Blog Archives

Ghosts floating through the mansion of my mind. It may sound like a great thing to own a mansion as a mind.I can tell you. It is a place that never sees sunshine, there is dust everywhere, the piano remains out of tune. Every room has something magnificent to find.

Dresses in one, jewels in the other, mothers little helpers pills scattered everywhere.There is always a ghost on standby ready to haunt me.

It’s like an old familiar melody.

I find no pleasure in any of these rooms.

There are too many rooms, not enough signs and I am always losing myself in it.Instead of running from my mind. I sit in the creaking rocking chair.

Legs splayed,opening myself up to become possessed by anything .They sit down on my favourite grey chaise longue and puff cigars that smell of lavender and twirl full bodied wine glasses filled with a deep maroon Beaujolais or a chateux neuf de pap.I seem unable to move

. I can’t move. If I could just ask them to leave .One places a daisy chain on my head and tops up my glass of southern comfort. I’m sure I have stopped drinking.

They know this as well as I do.The irony is they are trying to make me live again. Drink if you must- anything to live, they urge….This is their home. How can I cast them out?They drain me, yes it is true, but they have been a part of my life, guarding me when I was still growing in my mothers womb.I let them stay,”SIT DOWN”., I say.

Foreplay remnants stain the sheets on the various four poster beds. There is a new guy in town.Has a bit of a opium habit. He hides away from everyone ,including me.I have become desperate in my misery,I seek him out .He won’t show himself.I beg him to show me how. He can write the directions on a paper……I think he cares. He doesn’t want me to go that far down. I think if I am so far down the dragon’s pit;chasing ,what is a few more inches to the bottom?

Isn’t the bottom or top better than half way neither up or down?I think he hid the ouija board too. He doesn’t want to be summoned because my will will break his……In all honesty I think they all want the best for me.

Oh of course they have their own agenda’s too.They know how down I am but they need to go on outings too. They get bored so I get to be their cruise liner- my eyes are their oval windows ,to peer outof, their mode of transport, that shows them life still carries on even if they can’t be an active part of it.. ..They called me a party pooper today.

Sounds a bit lame.They held a special party pooper party for me.My least favourite party of all times- they all congregated in my drawing room whistling and pulling crackers and the incessant chatter nearly drove me out of the house.Usually, the louder they are the quicker I try to escape – This time they lucked out. They will not help me find Opium boy.I only want to escape with him.I will continue to follow his musky scent until another scent sends my pulse quickening.Another ghost starts to ask:”Why do you want to be dead when your heart still beats?”

“Oh fuck off and cross over – you can live in my mansion of a mind but I will not be questioned – my mind my rules.” I replyIf I had gone would I have lost the scent of Opium boy?Would I have cared?Usually when I chase a boy that needs saving , I get into trouble….

Ghosts

Ghosts floating through the mansion of my mind. It may sound like a great thing to own a mansion as a mind.

I can tell you. It is a place that never sees sunshine, there is dust everywhere, the piano remains out of tune. Every room has something magnificent  to find

Dresses in one, jewels in the other, mothers little helpers pills scattered everywhere.

There is  always a ghost on standby ready to haunt me.. It’s like an old familiar melody.

I find no pleasure in any of these rooms. There are too many rooms, not enough signs and I am always losing myself in it.

Instead of running from my mind. I sit in the creaking rocking chair. Legs splayed,opening myself up to become possessed by anything .

They sit down on my favourite grey chaise longue and puff cigars that smell of lavender and twirl full bodied wine glasses filled  with  a deep maroon Beaujolais or a  chateux  neuf de pap.

I seem unable to move. I can’t move. If I could just ask them to leave .

One places a daisy chain on my head and tops up my glass of southern comfort. I’m sure I have stopped drinking. They know this as well as I do.

The irony is they are trying to make me live again. Drink if you must- anything to live, they urge….

This is their home. How can I cast them out?

They drain me, yes it is true, but they have been a part of my life, guarding me  when I was still  growing in my mothers womb.

I let them stay,

“SIT DOWN”., I say

Foreplay remnants stain the sheets on the various four poster beds. There is a new guy in town.

Has a bit of a opium habit. He hides away from everyone ,including me.

I have become desperate in my misery,

I seek him out .He won’t show himself.

I beg him to show me how. He can write the directions on a paper……

I think he cares. He doesn’t want me to go that far down.

 I think if I am so far down  the dragon’s pit;chasing ,what is a few more inches to the bottom?

Isn’t the bottom or top better than half way neither up or down?

I think he hid the ouija board too. He doesn’t want to be summoned because my will will break his……

In all honesty I think they all  want the best for me. Oh of course they have their own agenda’s too.

They know how down I am but they need to go on outings too. They get bored so I  get to be their cruise liner- my eyes are  their oval windows ,to peer outof, their   mode of transport, that shows them life still carries on  even if they can’t be an active  part of it.. ..

They called me a party pooper today. Sounds a bit lame.

They held a special party pooper party for me.

My least favourite party of all times- they all congregated in my drawing  room whistling and pulling crackers and the incessant chatter nearly drove me out of the house.

Usually, the louder they are the quicker I try to escape – This time they lucked out. They will not help me find Opium boy.

I only want to escape with him.

I will continue to follow his musky scent until another scent sends my pulse quickening.

Another ghost starts to ask:

“Why do you want to be dead when your heart still beats?”

“Oh fuck off and cross over – you can live in my mansion of a mind but I will not be questioned – my mind my rules.”  I reply

If I  had gone would I have lost the scent of Opium boy?

Would I have cared?

Usually when I chase a boy that needs saving , I get into trouble….

Master of my fate?

What makes you anxious? – the cocoon asked .

Immediate response ?
I want to run away .

The cotton wool opportunity of turning into some thing I’ve never been fills me a desire to run.

I’ve always wanted to fly!
Darwinite if it means i can feel fire
In my belly
Leave behind the sycophants of past.

Presented with the discomfort before the freedom installs a stony face

A medusa

Unjustified punishment.

I finally replied: I want to run from your question because the master of my own fate made me question why I didn’t say I’m the master of my destiny

I sat on the toilet waiting for an answer

A tinkle

A brainwave to collide with my why.

God loves goofy

God loves goofy syndrome

I Loved you before I loved me.
It should have been a mistake.

It should have been my undoing…
The truth is…
I found the belief in myself that I was terrified to confront because…
Fear got the best of me.

You

let this bird of prey free
The uncaged song as distorted as it seemly ( at the time) found it’s way to re imbibe my soul.

Without realising it you helped me to know how to summon up the courage to self define my destiny.

( no #tag needed)

I earned my place in society.
Sincerely,

Regardless I still found myself.

Falling books never lie

Falling ( not fallin) books never lie).
It’s a metaphor not smut.

We did it in the kitchen

We did it on the sofa.

We stood like telescopes looking at opposite ends.

Me at the top He at the bottom of the stairs.

We did it to ‘its a wonderful world ’.

Dancing with our opinions Emotions diluted For we couldn’t stay away , solve our woes… Understand!

11 years..

The geek and the 40 year old welded together by the elements who will die – another day

We did it on the bed. I made the first move
We went to bed intoxicated off lavender Back to back … Is this how intimacy flies ?
Book
ends
divided .
No discussion Diss the content Broken up by genres.
Falling books never Li

e A middle Age Crisis
Buy a car

Leave me alone
Good evening heartache

Alexis knew me well. Might as well get used to MisCommunication banging our sound.

Wings
snared by tension Bare trap
array causing a future wrinkled frown
. Tangled in an intricate web of love; An angel brightens up these gloomy days
Sit

down , heartache. Walking

the green mile

We’ve invested in this framework
Solid

It’s Impossible

To predict we’ll be an over halved statistic

One done day.. Heart ache A roof , Free fall.

Not to diss his holy heart but Wishing I’ll bypass Gods will.

His will Ignores my words anyway…

Confessional poetry

Loss of control
Increased numerical equation
Detract from the value of self-worth.

Mind full
Mindful

bloated

Aspirations snipped loose by an unearthly, scale driven puppet master
Reduces an entire psyche to a chemical embarrassment.

Good mood desires nourishment
the live to eat philosophy
A heavy burden the beast bears herded in.

restricted to forage on cashing out a societal life policy.

A one manned island
ravaged
to its hunger

Tatiana – an ode

Today ,I wasn’t prepared though my gut knew better than to be not blase but scared.

A fleeting hope that the healers could give you a boost

The hardest decision was to accept that your time was up & I had to cut you loose.

I’m numb, guilty, wished I had you for a few more nights.

Allowing your sorrowful suffocating soul seconds more would add to this punishing plight & dreams of death – faeces, dead babies, deer, filthy flies and discarded driftwood souls drunk on flotsam

Waivered inner stengh; sight to ignite a courageous carcass of hope

Never mind , my Tatiana. You breathe free , unleashed from the God’s who wouldn’t let you rest.

You were too remarkable to ignore.

Your status has soared

A wing span of your choice.

These words don’t do justice

I love you

This is your eulogy

An ode to your life with no apology.

So cold,

so sweet ,

so fair…

Life and death
The mortal twins

The janus of the past , the future
You the triplet was my greatest present.

Hangman’s noose -Don’t give in

Never give up!

Nina sang it well: it’s a new dawn, a new day….
When you look at yourself straight on in the mirror – chant his name three times.

The Grim Reaper is more likely to pay a visit and say ‘wassup?

Thinking about all those folk who want to live. Don’t have a cat’s chance or a lucky clover to pray over.

Last night, life became mission impossible. If you read it – I’m free flowing this to say:

Don’t give up.
Don’t give in.
When it feels like you are at the end of Hangman’s noose about to kick the bucket from under your feet

that’s the moment we’ve the opportunity to reveal our true soul’s pathos.

Don’t you think the cloaked hooded figure has a lot of soul collecting to get on with?

I’m not saying that what we feel at the time is an illusion.
I pointing out -change is the only constant
That can lead to desperate ,devastating confusion.

Inside – I’m trembling worrying , wondering. What am I gonna do? Can I do this?

Question after question more questions fogging up my third eye- it’s enough to make any mind spin.
Stop. Hammer time.

Warped sense of humour.
Effective
Enough to keep all the rattling bones and bolts inside me cast a  glow over my demeanour.

Hope.
Look around. You see a flower wilt or bloom inspite of his brethren humming out sad tunes.

Hope.
That’s Life continuing in spite of all that strife.

Hope .
One.
Seed.
Of.
Hope.

Get through this second,hour, this evening

Take the seed, germinate it, nurture it, feed it, love it , talk  to it.

Take the time – make it thine.

Watch it grow into a mighty oak – proud and on display.

Seems impossible to define.
Plant it. Don’t throw it away.
Keep a hold of it. It may be the one thing that  carries you over the struggle D-day line.

On the surface – flowers, trees, icebergs – all look fantastical – magical even.
Look below the surface.

There is a formula – you can build on that too –
No magic. No miracles.

Approach thyself with an examining eye.

Make it  your number one priority to get to know what makes you  tick.

If heart’s Hope stops make it your priority to know where to go to get a battery replacement. Get it resuscitated.

Know what makes you well
Reach out to that alien.
Get out of that comfort zone.
Scream ,yell, type, don’t bottle it  up .

We have the technology – make a call -pick the phone up.
We have a voice – use it. Listen..
Sweet melodic freedom – we’re the only ones with the unlock and escape from our own self made prison key.
Hope.
Never give up.
Life gets difficult
Life gets complicated.
There is more to this space than a  one-dimensional prism.
I know it’s scary – to feel caught up in that schism.

Pieces of the mind caving in -thoughts toppling over like being a Chilean miner being held hostage underground.
Two months of no light . A sorrowful plight.

It’s dark but you are still breathing. You may be the only one but time is not about to start giving in.

Chin up. Keep looking for a strategy.
An exit route.
Use that sombre time to recollect . Hell, soak up the dramaturgy.

We come into this world kicking, screaming, wondering, possibly even believing. We mustn’t give up unless time says  ‘okay enough’.
So, I say go the way you came in . If it is not  our time – fight with every muscle. All the nerve you can summon up.
Truth  or  dare?

I  have truth spilling out of my aura like pennies falling into the slot machine- the one in  working  order.
Dare to have. 
Slip on your shades if you have to – things might just get a little brighter.

You might levitate – feel lithe even a little lighter.

Don’t be afraid to succeed.
Don’t afraid to be happy.

You don’t need to go to the dentist to get your two front teeth divided so you can look like some Go  Lucky Gappy.

Family matters

The globe is always spinning and today we stop off in India.
SECRET TO HAPPINESS:  Appreciate the gift of family
TRADITION: Raksha Bandhan 
DATE : Full moon day in the Hindu month of Shraven ( mid July- August)
CELEBRATED: in India
This might sound like a bit of a contradictory post  on how to find happiness but happiness is not  about throwing yourself onto a bed of roses,  as aesthetically pleasing an image that that conjures.
Family is a bit of a broad topic.
I should know! I have two large families on both sides. I have a half-sister and step sister who I don’t have a strong relationship with. They both lives in South Africa, I live in the U.K. and well so much time has gone by.
My Dad and his wife and, my two nieces whom I don’t know, live there too. My Dad turned his back on me a long time ago.
 No pity.
From the age of 7, I knew that I did not take  any priority in his life. It was the same for my step sister.  When my Dad remarried to my stepmother -30 odd years ago  – they made some pact that the past is the past and for their own happiness; they would forget about everyone and everything to start  afresh ,build a new family and be happy.
I get this.
 There is is that old saying : ‘we can’t choose our family’.
 My Nan on my Dad’s side promptly reminded me of this yesterday.
I’ve always thought no matter how much my Dad’s side of the family, in all their numbers, hate my Mom’s side,(now than I am an adult they  have stopped pretending to like me and actively shun me too) in all of this: I  learned that the bond I have with my Nan could never be broken.
She looked after me from the age of 8-15 years . My Mom was ill and in hospital for many years. My Dad and Nan (mainly when she drank) and my step mother always put my mother down. It has taken a long time but me and my Mom have dealt with the past and  have a remarkable relationship now.
Yes, we all have strong personalties in  our families that clash. That is a given. Who else knows us so well than the people from past? the people we grew up with?
The thing is that not all of us were our real selves when in our past. Drugs and illness may have hid our personalities.
Neglect -physical and emotional can also make a person very confused.
I don’t blame my upbringing for my decisions in the past but I do think it influenced my actions to a degree.
Ultimately, we choose our own path. There are laws that decide 18, 21 or 25 years is the time span long enough to learn and be accountable for our actions. Morally, this may not be something I agree with completely.
I do feel that the adults in our lives (usually family)are our teachers. I’ve been taught good and bad things (in a variety of contexts) from the role models in my life or lack of them. Their absence can also make an impact on how we decipher our way into the world.
Where we decide is our place in the world.
In India, an annual celebration takes place to honour the relationship of brothers and sister- I quite like the English translation of ‘Raksha Bandhan’- ‘ the bond of protection’.
On this day, brothers and sisters come together and celebrate their blood connection and take the time to appreciate one another. The tradition is: that each brother is made  what is called a ‘rhaki’- a bracelet made out of cotton or silk which is tied on the right wrist of every brother- a symbol -of ‘affection’, love’ and ‘protection of love’.
Sisters a given beautiful gifts and  brothers  bless their sisters and promise  to protect their sisters fro the up coming year ahead.
This tradition starts from childhood.
Not everyone has a brother or sister,so other family come from all four globes of the world to unite and keep the tradition up and honour it.
‘Friends come and go’ -we say, but family is always connected to us by blood.
Family
Here’s the the contradictory part of the post.
For most of my life I know that my Nan has always had my back. I know that she is the person who taught me to keep in contact with my own sister and family. I learnt by experience, if we fought, nothing would break the love and bond we have.
I had to make a tough decision yesterday.
A lesson I  possibly learnt from my own fathers absence.
I’m having struggles with my own illness. I am constantly having to fight to have time to be with my Nan
 Her family get jealous by  any time we spend together.  They don’t understand why or how my Mom and Nan  can still have a strong bond and relationship because my Mom is the the ex-wife.
They don’t understand.
In all truth, they may be called ignorant.
My Mom and I have been ill for many years and have been ostracised for this.
We are in a better place these days.
My Nan went on holiday to see my Dad and sister and my nieces in November for three months in 2015. In that time,my Mom,my partner and I have worked together in harmony to make sure our wedding day will be unforgettable.
My Nan has a strong personality. This usually reveals the trait of one who needs to control. Control, unfortunately,  brings out the worst in people.
 I know this from my own past experiences in trying to orchestrate everything and everybody in my life.
I was manipulative – I had to be to get what I wanted!
 My Nan is no different from others who seek to control – in her tactics- to get her way.
My Nan is a good woman- with flaws. The biggest is making me feel guilty for everything.
Yes, she looked after my daughter for 16 months while social services were in my life. I got rid of the toxic people in my life, I bucked up my ideas and fought and I proved that I am a good a enough  mother (to social services, family, judges – and the whole unwanted entourage that came with socials services)
I have done my time.
I don’t know how many times I can say I am thankful to my Nan, how many gifts I can buy her.
I do know that I won’t make to feel indebted to her for the rest of my life.
She looked after me too. She has looked after many of her families children over the years.
Always feeling used, under-appreciated by every parent of whichever child she was caring for. Be it a few hours or a few years.
This doesn’t come across as a happy post but it is. I know it is a long post. Please try to bear with me.
 My Nan has been back from South Africa  for less than two weeks and harmony has gone out the window. I don’t think she can get her head around the fact that we have managed to sort our wedding with my ‘weak’ ‘fragile minded’ mothers help. It feels like, to me and my partner, that all we have received is little digs. Small, but enough to make an impact.
I  had to make the decision to leave her with her family.
I deserve happiness.
We all do.
I’m not willing to be drawn into parlour games:
Comparisons of how well off and how much better my Dad’s side of the family is.
Or,
how she has to go on another holiday to get over the time she had in South Africa.
A lot of negatives were said.
No positives.
 I love her. No buts.
I do also have to put my happiness and my daughters and my partner and my Mom’s happiness before hers.
She has a lot of support from her family. Well, she does until she has had a fight with them. Sound familiar?
 Thing is I’m fed up of it.
DRAMA!
 Last night I was so upset and drained, I couldn’t do anything I enjoy doing like  being with my family, reading, blogging, reading blogs
I want a peaceful life as possible.
I will not allow the past to repeat itself with certain ways in how certain family members made an impression on me. I will gladly take responsibility for anything good and bad that happens while I parent my child and any children we have.
There will be no playing one of the other.
“DAISY! (you cry) WHERE IS ALL THE HAPPINESS IN THIS POST?”
Good question.
Please bear with me, I have a message and a task – one I need to challenge myself to do too.
 Can you think of something special you used to do with someone in your family?
My Nan and I devour books and love literature and writing. She inspired me to write and pushed me to develop any hidden talent. This post wouldn’t be here- crystallised, if it weren’t for her rooting for me over the years.
Is there some kind of meaningful ritual you could create to celebrate and strengthen your unique bond?
I would love to make it a regular occasion to got to the theatre with my Nan or  join a book /writing club together with her.
“HOW ARE YOU GOING TO DO THIS DAISY? YOU HAVE REJECTED YOUR NAN IN FAVOUR OF YOUR OWN HAPPINESS?”
True, for the next 12 weeks I need peace and harmony.
Like I said before, friends may come and go, our family are always connected to us.
Time to put my big boots on.
MESSAGE: Never forget the safe haven your family members created – no matter how flimsy and dysfunctional. They were doing what they could with the best resources they had to navigate their own path.
Some of my happiest memories are those with my Nan.
Never forget that family can be the source of some of life’s happiest moments. Relationships do break down but I have a strong bond with my Nan and in time I hope we can reconnect.
I was going to attempt to make amends after the wedding.
No, today. I will make amends. She will take my daughter to ballet and tap as she does most weeks and we will all meet up afterwards  and go and sort out the wedding cake as planned,
 I need peace and harmony for the next 12 weeks. It doesn’t mean I love her any less.  Last nights decision was made because I only know what is best for that moment. I have not closed the door on any of my family for good.
Today I make amends. Life is too short.  Always try and keep a small space reserved in your heart for wiser times in your life and you will find peace and happiness.

Lady dancer part 2

I love you to the moon🌙 and back, you say.

Wonder how I can express the weight of my heart 💗

For all that you are

To me.

Each moment you’ve made me laugh

Each moment you’ve made me cry 🧚‍♂️

Smile 😀

I’ve learnt to reassess my own journey.

Your gracious frolic💃 with life

Your gaiety

Your gentle approach

Rhenders me dumb founded

Confounded to

Compare the gravity 🌎of all you are to me

I’d have to look up for an eternity

Of starry stars 🌟of memories you’ve shared are incalculable.

Remarkable

10 years of Bella- bee isms

10 years a double digit daughter.

Happy birthday 🎂 to the only star of clarity I’ve named as my own

Kind

of hope I can be that mother you recall as home.

I’ve always been a chancer

A blessed paid off risk to witness you take the lead as my little lady dancer 🕺

Each pinkie promise fulfilled

Is a glimpse into a paradise undistilled.

I love you 🐝