Instinct them there eyes that sit on the side of your face
where your ears shoot up from the top of your head.
Primitive- does it have a capacity to learn?
What is instinct?
the ability to know if something is a good idea or bad?
Is it just leftovers from another former homo sapien – who didn’t get the Darwinian letter notifying us to change?
Second guess it –
Third time make a mess of it.
What about those who have been conditioned by torture?
How do they know if their instincts can guide them to shores of safety?
Mothers instincts – is it the same as caring?
The instinct to repeat the same mistake – short circuit -rewiring alert .
Instinct tells me I am fucking it up.
I lie typing furiously trying to have my way.
I paid to be happy and don’t tell me I’m wrong,
instinct tells me this already.
Inside there is a stubborn overgrown tree – happily rooted-
Oh what a character!
It takes over me. Seen those shows when a person is hypnotised?
Never been hypnotised but…. I can imagine that worst case scenario is wanting to do something or not wanting to do something but having this entertainer conjure me to do the opposite of what I want.
What I say I will make me happy.
The rules is I am in a theatre of sorts – being watched, performed on .
I’m paralyse, can’t move -yet still I get to see all my actions performed for all to see.
I’m compelled to just let it be.
I was born with an inherent instinct to destroy every opportunity to feel a laugh leave my throat or a smile find it’s way curving upwards.
what is in me?
Who put it inside me?
I was pulled out with forceps and a low tolerance for people –
Did I get put on the wrong planet?
was I a botched experiment from a distant galaxy that needed terminating?
Who in their right mind throws away happiness like a blossom tree losing her flowers in autumn?
I don’t have that much to give. I did at some point but…. now that seems like a far away – old shedded skin
Creativity comes from within.
Instinct compels me to sin and win
LittleBee I failed you…
Can’t finish this… it is glib.
I can’t forgive me.
I’m a monstrosity.
DOn’t say those words daisy or you will become what you think you are.
True but I’ve forgotten how to be I am , I are, I will ,I think…
Don’t know how to …….
Bahtuhkid · my thoughts about the past
When I think I’ve escaped the past
I know my Ma doesn’t drink alcohol and she Sort of kicked me out without kicking my ass.
My daughter cried
Tatiana didn’t meow
I came back to the place where I thought I would relapse
I went to buy cat food
shop was closed
memories of that drug dealer who shine bright with implanted teeth
£4000 inclusive holiday
I could have gnashed
Instead, I congratulated him for his holly wood smile with panache.
Using my money to fulfill another dream — one more ticked off his bucket list
It’s so sad
I’m back in the house
haunted by ghosts of the past.
Mother wouldn’t let me in
steam off on a legal poison
Get Sleep with Prosecco & a gin with a 60 pence glass.
Daughter cried I packed my bags
I saw her cry for our cat
I packed up all my bags
And walked out like an immature twocker
with a dirty rash.
DIDI WANT TO SCORE THE GREATEST OF THE GREATEST OF SNIFF?
Nah, all I wanted was freedom & to sleep without alcohol and illegal grass or bash.
Here I sit in darkness not happy to be back.
I have a packet of lamberts and Prosecco I’m NOT interested in drinking until I’m befokkered.
I won’t sleep
Forever forgotten all thoughts that made me high
Making drug dealers run for corruption, greed, and bite so compared to ash Wednesday like sinners driving by.
My bee she cried for my Tatiana
Guilt came flooding for sleep in a bed
where my inner whore rode the men who treat me like trash
Except for my soul mate …
He told me to fuck off and I gladly said
Went to the shop
Found spring water tuna-I
Felt Less guilty
felt less crass.
Went against the momma bears rule.
I’m a wildflower with an instinct to rebel from life rules.
THE FALLEN ANGEL WITH INVISIBLE WINGS
If chickens could fly higher I’d fly higher than the dragon from the land of sniff ready to rape
fOr an extra taste.
In coma 5 days x another 5
In a coma, I remembered the alien abduction
Their torture made me atone to live life differently
I’d even believe in mom’s anointment of Jesus Christ.
Thorns of roses
Thorns of self-destruction.
Alone with my cat — my husband won’t come back-
My child is probably still crying.
I’m alone again
I can’t complain
This was my choice.
I want to sleep
Dream of our family home
help those who shouldn’t live a history worse than orphans blurred vision live on the African continent
Not their decision.
*written on 13 June at 11 pm. 2020 ( today is 29th June and still wanting to Live)
I didn’t relapse. I didn’t want to get high. I had a drink because I needed to sleep and I’m on sleeping medication 5 days a week out of 7. I’ve asked my doctor to take me off 15 mg of Nitrazepam that I had been since 2007.
It three weeks since I tried to take my life and nearly succeeded, maybe Life is not finished with me yet because my family were told to prepare for my death, brain damage or me being paralyzed*
In the twilight of that mind,
Turntables blast out despair
Unable to fathom out her own kind.
Two open-ended books splay their outward innards.
Hesitant to accept the possibility of another perspective.
Suppose there is alien life out there…
That we can conceive of.
An outcome for her resolve to never give in to her woes?
Roses feel pain when cut down by brutal shears.
Where are the moderators in this game of Divine consequences?
Have they too been bribed to ostracise the rest?
A product rebranded a Rose.
Children toy with her parts, cut her hair, drown her until her lungs, over-bloated
Spew out flotsam froth.
A final rattle forming a bubble of foam.
Youth is fleeting
as a pirate’s final orgasm freeing his seamen to rest.
This flight became her ghost – it tormented her in a walking state of slumber.
When Rose was of a venerable age she sat upon her own Fate.
Ignorant to all counsel,
She lacked common sense for a daredevil debate.
‘Mere islands’, she would bluster.
An ancient mariner couldn’t deny that she was born to a concubine.
Made from unusual voodoo cut cloth.
She mixed rarely with other groups
Outside of Fear
For impending wrath.
Her weeping congealed by third-degree burns.
Shuffling her feet- rarely led to any sudden about upturn.
What prompted Rose to behave in such a manner?
Emotional intelligence IQ lower than an abyss in Alabama?
Regret staggers not long after
Rose’s final walk down the marching plank.
Swords of sleeted ice pierce into her back.
She ignores all those gallant enough to help her find her to her new abode.
She has the the secret code to,the Outlaw, of the conquered seas.
Why put the world on pause when time is has its own entity?
Reality is indendant of thought.
She thrashes about with the sense of an insecure perception of identity.
The FATAL FLAW for love on the grandest vessel
She sunk to her final resting place –
the bottom of the plastic strewn, infested seabed.
The day she allowed this rogue to assault her
Though she did plea;
Her screams were ignored-complicit to acquiesce.
Love is partly veiled.
One can’t see through the composition of the waves.
She casts one final look around,
She sees the world in all its chaos- divided into self destruct.
We don’t have love!
How can we summon humanity?
It’s merely a spectacle!
A damning show.
She turns around and winks at the one who took her to his chambers.
wonders if this Outlaw knew that he was taking her soul’s ability to speak.
There is no ending to pain.
Only true bedlam can express her reality.
She is the thorn.
She is the rose.
-the one frozen in hell with her never-ending guilt.
Caught out -overindulging on sexual delicacies.
Orgasming, glow in the dark visuals projected onto her Fantasia cranium mental ceiling.
Walls cave in – was it just lust that caused her to make up all this fuss?
Why did she do it?
once. twice. three times?
Her heart was consumed. ‘Rose-tinted glasses’ a voice shouts out and presumes.
She thinks there was real depth to some of her proclaimed emotions. How can she even look at another confectionary when she already has the sweetest deal?
Her dowry is her very own Wonka factory.
There was no excuse for her to set foot out of her mind and demand to feel more satisfied.
Does momma know her better than she does?
Always want what you can’t have! 5-year-old drops to the floor.
Toys R Us.
Not leaving till she comes outs with a red, tanked up, M&M replica bus.
Ready to dice herself up and fling herself into a blender – sexting, texting -somewhat fulfilling,
but not having anyone else to indulge with afterwards, leaves her with a rebellious sense that can only be satisfied by means of tangible bondage-style correcting.
Honest to a breaking point.
Target those she wants to anoint.
Commitment. Did she truly know what she was taking on?
She realized her demise when she demanded the same form of commitment from some other, partly innocent feckless person in an ‘ I’m- doing -alright‘ disguise.
Bonfire night explosions went off in their usually tranquil home.
He sat back too long, let her spirit roam and defend its right to move within another astral zone.
Kitchen sink drama screams, sweeping up the spindly staircase.
Mother clocks eyes with her child, rubbing her slumbered eyes – run to pick her up and wipe away salty tears from her face.
Heart beating wildly. What has she done?
The sickly cost of seeking out more affection afflicting her startled young.
Time to move forward.
She has respect, love, honesty, faithfulness, a family, laughter and more than she ever thought she deserved. This place under the shady protective arms rooted to the spot – she truly earned
Time to act like a true woman, tend to her man and family-like one would a tree – keep those roses -tidy, pruned – this time the tree still stands.
May lightning strike her heart and torment the rest of her living days if this time she hasn’t learned.
SECRET TO HAPPINESS: Shout out to those mental endorphins friends of yours -tell them there is a VIP party – they are on the guest list and give yourself a head to toe workout.
TRADITION: T’ai Chi I (not my thing – but an example)
CELEBRATED: Shang-gai China
“AAAAAAARGHGHh ( I have released your inner Godzilla) , why are you torturing me with this talk of exercise so early in the morning /evening – ever,Daisy?”
Lose the guilt over those extra cookies, ice cream you ate. There is nothing you can do about it now. You can keep the T.V. on – you might need it- like I do. I am going to ask you to get up…
Here is the patronising part of the post, ready?
When your body is on ‘do not disturb’ mode, your mind has jumped some poor hotel room cleaner, dressed in her clothes and is heading straight for that room with the ‘Do not disturb sign’. You all just going to fester away.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH ( Godzilla mode), I have no energy, I’m tired. I’ve travelled to Spain and back , help choose, buy and re decorate a house -in one hour.Okay well, I mentally worked and help that lovely couple on T.V. choose a house. Shouting at a T.V. can be exhausting ,you know?”
One of my biggest coping mechanisms apart from taking my meds. Is exercise . I don’t feel like doing it everyday. I got myself into a bit of a lull a while back and I was going through the motions but not really OWNING my work out. I’m an old school raver and I can’t afford to pay for fancy gym memberships. So most of the furniture is rearranged in my living room ,so I can pump it up to club house anthems/tunes. I have a full on rave in my living room everyday. VIP for me and my E’s, baby! Pure Evian water and one ‘sexy’ mama shaking my booty like some 20 year old dang fine thing. Can, you picture it?
No. I can’t . I struggle with the body rolls. The one move I like most and looks rather sexy. I roll about as smoothly as a person who has just got punched in the stomach. Not the rhythm and look I am really going for.
Thing is I had a bit of a chat with the exercise part of me a few weeks back. I was like,
“Dudette, listen.( I like to think my inner mind harbours green female Ninja turtles) What is the point of the doing all this dancing if you are not in the moment?. There is no body watching you. Turn down the paranoia volume. Turn the music volume up. You don’t need to look like these girls just shake what your mama gave you and feel the music.
It worked! It is working. Never doubt the power of a good talk with thy lovely selves. I’ve got that buzz that I lost for a bit. Not everyone wants to do Rave work out D.V.D.s’ and that is cool.
Over the hills and far away, there is a mile long esplanade that hugs the Huanpu River. There you can see the mind and body revitalise in slow- mo matrix mode.
Everyday as Apollo rides his chariot pulling back the moons blanket shaking out last nights grit of slumber from the eyes. There are people. All sorts of people making their way to the edge of the ocean, in chinos or whatever feels comfortable, they all get together and do a mass mind and body YAWN repertoire. Easy does it. A few gentle stretches does it.
There is no judgement, no one scoring you out of 10. Some people exert themselves more and do a ballet style of sword waving . Others just mill about in a state of tranquil activity.If that makes sense?
MESSAGE : I know not everyone has has the time nor the energy to do a massive gym workout but T’ai chi is a great example of a type of meditative exercise that isn’t ageist, sexist` or any other -ists- you can think of. It’s subtle. If you are not feeling the T’a chi vibe. Personally I don’t find it does enough for me. I used to do it when I was an inpatient in hospitals for my Eating disorder.It may be the same with you, then look at learning some other martial art or something else. Something that get the blood pumping, the body toning and the result -is an epic High- no drug beats it. Trust me, I have tried a load of drugs in my time.