Some of us are born heartbroken from the initial
To final push .
We are the ones that don’t cry until we get a pat on the back
We are the ones that know the doctors’ have a hypocratic oath to enforce .
Life is forced upon those who don’t ask…
The ties must be cut with or without a puppet curtsey or kneel in prayer.
The law states we have a duty to care for ourselves
for others ..
The laws – they diminish a heart beaten with a wooden spoon .
Zero tolerance.. humanity is a price we have come to despair.
Punitive the fare we must pay. The care sector,our families who wish no t pretence
to smile on arrival at a wake.
We live for our reasons . We betray our feelings .
Perhaps it’s when the sun denies we are in treason
we dare shed a tear for our shadow
Some of us born heartbroken ’til we die.. we become the life savers or the enablers of the lie.
Beautiful & befuzzling- Especially for foreigners.
My answers are long because the list of pre fixes – to shit – are long …
Horse manure! 🐎 – any tory response especially during ascot season ( the gentrification version ?
Please see pic below
✋️… I’ll try out my wit again..
This looks vaguely like a timeline of the gentrification of the word / class system: * shit*
Have you seen the price of rentals these days ? !
. EPIC FAIL – again.
I’m just not funny 😐 😒.
Waving the red flag..
Gone gorillas in the mist with the word rambunctious ( Stop. Is Google time .)
Am I F***! Waving the red flag !
It’s a doggy 🐕 dog world if you don’t live in China..
Dare I say how it goes if you do live in China 🇨🇳- oops is that a red herring.
( that’s me all over – a false leader )
I’ll stick with my morbid side
Fact : Paris has the highest percentage of irresponsible dog shit picker uppers..
Must be on uppers if they haven’t got the time to pick up dog shit from their little beathoven mutt.
so, basically Paris has the largest amount of doggy doo in the major cities of the world 🌎 to step in.
Oh, I forgot ( I wanted to see if I could try and define rambunctious before I cooled it).
A bit over the top, firstly, too much , horny even ?
And proper definition 👌
Mmh that’s what they say in most
Rape depositions/ statements .
I don’t think rape is something to be laughed at .
Trust me I’ve been there .
Unless they have a small willy.
I can’t use hashtag metoo in this case.
Truth is I don’t have a willy.
Not Bullshit . Potentially batshit
I poured a rather long gin.
Snoop dog influenced me .
#laidback ####’d the crack out of that ..
. Well , on a final note atleast the English language has moved on from human excrement although excrement feels more like an achievement 👏 or an accomplishment than a shit.
I’M MAD SHIZZLE CRAZY .
Walked out my front door
First time in 5 days, I turned right for a change of scenery chucking out the rubbish – the highlight of this today
Beneath my feet the concrete was still grey
My demeanour resembled the bland council houses’ unimaginative choice of decorating on the cheap -resembling a prison … whatever . No , I’m done rhyming today.
What prompts these feathered words typed and on display – a bird not in flight
Wings tinged with blue a sorrowful sight to see no fight
Eyes bright with dewy deadpan light.
Eyes screeching victoriously: I found the worm special of the day!
How do I say , justify , describe the way my heart swooned the wrong way. I looked up at the sky thankful for the first time in many years for its consistent rays.
A distraction , a ruse – I knew it was dead . I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t move him onto a more dignified path. I was afraid he’d come back to life.
Circled around him in a hesitantly callous way
How dare he interrupt a quiet walk-the first in almost a week from sunday?
Did I imagine it semi fluttering whilst I walked past him with my bin liner full of litter ?
I profess to love watching those with wings -airborne soaring . I’m envious. A speculative visual adorned with glittered hues , proof that life moves in every way.
I confess I have a phobia of dead birds. Past memories of one I wasn’t able to save in my childhood
Direction moved me to walk the other way from a lifeless soul left to rot on a staircase.
Is mortal love the true sin of the man opposed to the laudable man blinded by a paradise of perfection?
With blood on our hands
With bare footed callousness
We walk over the corpses of our ancestors.
The biblical story of Noah is the parable of the modern day humanitarian plight.
We will return to the second day of creation fighting with sticks and stones
As prophesied by another mere mortal
As prophesied by another mere mortal sapian in well versed archaic rhetoric…
Musings of today
with my husband’s permission. I will let his words dominate this post. Not easy being Mr. Willows – just kidding. Slightly…..
No one said that life is easy, no one said that marriage or relationships are easy or perfect.
It’s been hard for me to write about my feelings on my blog lately,because of all the shenanigans going on in my life. It never stops, does it?
There is a lot I want to say before I pass over my blog to my other half. I talk and type way too much for my liking.
We are all struggling and we are all working on our dreams. It’s easy to give up and I don’t know many people
-anyone -who has ever done this to show how much he respects and wants to know me and understand me .
I will not hide that we have problems and we both fuck up. I’m not proud of some of my actions or my behaviour.
I do know that the man who is so different from me brings out the best in me and the worst. Mostly their best.
Usually, the men I’ve chosen have brought out the worst in me. ( they have issues just like me.)
For the first time I can say I chose a good man and some guys have been proper knobheads to me.
I’m not making excuses for those men.
“You are wankers, no more making excuses for you. I hope you get what you deserve. I don’t know what you deserve. Karma is not something I have power over, or even wish to have. ” Daisy aka Natasha Bodley
I have a man who has shown me what it feels like to be loved,respected, cherished and who wants our happiness.
Here is a man, who I get to call my husband.
I’m uber emotional.
I didn’t know he was doing this. Our marriage has been crumbling from the start tbh… (laughing, nervous laughter)
I’m at a loss for words.
So this Mr Willows
This is a rather difficult situation to talk about; my wife and I are at odds with each other, she suffers from a horrible illness called Anorexia, it is a controlling and manipulative entity. Anorexia has taken a lot from my wife and maybe even our marriage. Through researching this illness I have realised I will never know truly what my wife has to go through on a daily even hourly basis, So to truly understand what she suffers through I have decided to walk a mile in her shoes. I know that Anorexia is more than just restricting foods and liquids, but I aim to try to discover more. The last time I had anything to eat was two days ago (12th May 2017) and I will try to document both my physical and mental states through this journey of discovery. This may not be enough to save my marriage, but at least I will have a greater understanding.
15th May 2017
10:15: It has been a struggle this morning. It is very hard not to eat when things are very automatic, the struggle with suppressing hunger takes a lot of energy and mental fortitude. My physical state is that my hands are shaking, and I used caffeine as an appetite suppressant. This is my second day doing this and will try and document often when things change.
10:30: I have been aware that this illness is also about body fixation, I have been aware for some months that my inner legs chafe when I am warm; I am going to use this as a point of fixation because it genuinely makes me unhappy and uncomfortable.
11:00: Housework is both a blessing and a curse. The blessings are it takes up time so you get to switch off the brain for a while and you are doing something so it takes up part of your day. On the flip side I know it is taking up valuable energy and that is going to leave me very weak in the days to come. I know it is going to be hard to hide my non eating but Anorexia is a selfish and manipulative illness. The coffee I had over an hour ago has hit me like a truck, I feel jittery and my heart is racing. I will be doing a small shop for some bits, this is going to be very different because I am no longer free to just pick up an impulse buy, I feel a little anxious about going to be far but I feel I can handle it.
20:07: The household shopping was hard when it came to doing the food part, my stomach aches so bad. I managed to force myself through it. I guess this is something my wife has to often, it takes so much energy to get through all you want to do is hide away and sleep off the hunger. It fails in comparison to having to cook for my daughter, it was hard not to pick at the food or fall in to what I have always done (cook a little extra for myself. I just want to see this through because I need to understand what my wife goes through on a daily basis. The fuzziness in my head feels very strange; I will stop if I see it going too far.
22:28: I understand why she chooses to binge on bread and cheese, right now, it is looking very tempting just to grab some bread and cheese and just go mad. I hope that I get a better night’s sleep tonight
11:34: I feel very shaky today, almost hyperactive. Finding it very difficult to focus on one task when you have so much running through your head. I can see why this feeling is attractive because you get a big buzz when you complete a task, even if it is something you do regularly. I can see in my face that bags have started to form under my eyes and have a yellow tinge. I look a bit more washed out and drawn. I dare not weigh myself because of both fear of seeing the numbers change. I can’t believe how hard it is to battle with something so simple as standing on something, what I can understand even more now than ever what those numbers represent. I promise myself that this cant continue for too long.
9:30: Yesterday afternoon I had a large hyperactive spurt, I was walking round the house very giddy and wanting to spin people around, this lasted for about a half hour, during this I was running up lists of all the things I can do with the business, being a success at finding work, been a good partner and farther.
So to conclude what I have discovered doing this is this, Anorexia has a lot to do with control and hating parts of yourself both physically and mentally. It takes a lot of energy to get through the day and do simple things. Managing moods has been very difficult, riding high can be very addictive and the slumps take so much away from you. The stress on the body is frightening and I have led a very active life. Sleeping is valuable if your body and mind can rest, this is because I have found when you are asleep you are not thinking, it breaks up the day and it conserves energy, plus I suspect that when someone is in full anorexic mode they don’t have to worry about eating. To think about food is a pain, caffeine helps suppress appetite, gives your mind and body something to do and the caffeine and sugar gives you something to get through the day. Being around food can kick off a lot of anxiety because all you want to do is eat, and you feel disgusted and ashamed of these feelings. It feels like you are in a constant battle with parts of mind and body. I am unhappy with the way my legs chafe when I get warm, when you become uncomfortable with how you feel, you become very fixated on that area, you notice every time you move, get dressed and when you look at yourself. Weight gain and weight loss play a key feature because upon weighing myself for the last time I had lost 0.02kgs, with how much effort it has taken, I can see this been very devastating to sufferers because the results do not match the effort that is put in, this will lead to a big drop in confidence and mood. In a final note, I have a newfound respect for people who suffer from this illness because it is a minute by minute, second by second battle with what can only be described as fighting an intruder in your own mind. I know I will never know the true extent of the illness but I have a better understanding of how I can better support, listen and what actions I can take.
MASSIVE RESPECT FOR YOU, WE DO HAVE A STRONG CONNECTION ,AND SOMETIMES WE NEED TO REMIND EACH OTHER.
Dealing with life 😀
The ultimate party girl. I was that girl who could drink bourbon all night and into the morning – all-day-long. Got any E’s or some Bolivian marching powder? you were speaking my language. I never knew when to stop. It all started at the ripe old age of 12 years old. The rave scene was at its peak. Drugs were strong (not cut with loads of rat poisoning or other shit) and people hardly drank alcohol. We all loved one another and each other. You always found a friend at every underground Rave and every club you went to.
In my home town in South Africa, Saturday night was a party on the rooftops till 7 am, then it was time to hit ‘Church’ with more drugs and new best friends and do the blitz until you literally dropped or the drugs ran out.Then it was time to for a gentle come down, usually at the top of a hill,in a cemetery, with jaw-dropping views. The Ganja would come out and the silence of being in nature would occasionally be interrupted by easy-going laughter and ‘campfire-like’ stories buzzing about.
Sounds awesome, right? Well, it was for a bit…
Being an extremist -no grey areas sort of ‘gal, it led me down a different path altogether. You see, I didn’t know it then but I wanted to get mashed up properly because I hated myself . I had no self -respect, no hope, no vision nor ambition. From a young age, I self-harmed. At 5 years old I already had eating issues. Most people I have encountered in my life- bar the bastards and bitches (mind you even them at one point said something similar) told me I was an all-rounder: smart, privileged, loved, beautiful, charismatic, vulnerable yet wilful.
Did I stop to take in all these compliments that my older self now craves for?
I kind of distanced myself away from my true friends. The ones I had known since I was 7 years old. I decided to take on other people’s judgements of what I thought they believed about me, and internalised that and began self-harming at a ferocious speed, I began to feel like the scapegoat and target for my supposed best friends jokes.
Someone has to become the target, None of them was going to come forward willingly. I went through a stage of overeating and when I started going the other way and stopped eating I obviously lost a lot of weight. Suddenly, guy friends were flirting with me and my girl-friends started berating me. Eventually, I got pushed out of the clique for good -part self -blame and part snotty insecure teenage friends to blame. I didn’t need their petty shit.
I became a shaker and a roller. I did an impressive gamble with my life right up until my 30’s. I got hooked on Crack, Mandrax, Coke, and Pills. being skinny, overdosing and cutting myself. You name it. My friend circle became drug dealers, hardcore- addicts and people I met whilst hitchhiking to go buy my drugs. Oh yeah, an asylum of perverted old men who tried to abuse me or wanted to turn me into dollar/ pound signs, for their own gain of course.
At the ‘mature’ age of 17 years old I didn’t exactly go willingly to live in France or the U.K.
Nobody and no-one could handle me. I was etching closer and closer into the dark tunnel- sans- bright white light and a myriad of angels. I couldn’t keep the food down. My bones ached from all the crap in the drugs that I smoked and took. I couldn’t face anyone except my drug dealers. I wouldn’t leave the house at all. My mood went up and down, I was put on prescription pills. Doctors decided I was a head case and I gained a bunch of labels -brand genes that I didn’t particularly want to wear.
When my Grandpa passed away from cancer, I moved from France back to the U.K. and I calmed down a bit. I started working but people with ‘issues’ were drawn to me. I guess I aimlessly found what I was looking for. Was it a friend? a boyfriend? crazy and magical life experiences? Oh, I had all those in the palm of my hand but the drugs and the self- starvation always gripped me first.
I don’t think anyone ever thought I would not be a party girl until I had to rip the crown off my head and begrudgingly let some other younger, prettier and more popular girls pick up from where I haggardly turned off and tuned out from that world completely.
Some say that life is a destination but I see my life as being more of a journey and I can’t say I would change anything. These days the road more travelled: is with my true self. I love myself, respect myself and I have learnt a lot about people, the world and myself. I am still learning and never want to stop.
I love what I do with my life now!
A daughter to look after? Never in a million years was I going to catch out until I did of course. I don’t regret my daughter.
Get married? oh please. I’m far too contrary and I have to do the opposite of what society expected of me. Some say I have ‘grown-up’. I hate this term. I prefer to say, I have released my true inner soul into the world and everything I now believe in and want is coming to me. I don’t have the same people drawn to me as when I was ‘the party girl of many seasons’. I’m calmer. I sometimes think I’m bloody boring to be honest but it’s cool.
I still get to dance to Rave music in my living room – it’s great music to exercise to. I still have my passion for a variety of music and although I missed my chance to become a professional street dancer. I have found another way to help fill the dream chalice. I want to travel more and make friends with people who want to be around me because of me, and not for what I can give them i.e. money when I have/had it or other superficial bullshit.
I have ‘broken through’ to the other side( maybe not in the way old Jim Morrison meant) but I have.
– bit of a tune I just couldn’t resist putting in.
How did I do this? I hung up my glad rags and got ‘comfortable with being uncomfortable’ ( thanks Jillian Michaels for that quote) and I became the person I was probably born to be. I do different things these days. I now get to read more, I have money to save up for my wedding and holidays. I like to do things like go to the cinema and ice skating and roller skating. Pubs bore me and so do drunk people especially if I’m not. Except of course me, I am never bored of a drunk me. These days I’m more of a punch-drunk character. I choose where I roam and I find myself in much more worthy and rewarding places. Don’t get me wrong, I won’t turn Dionysus away from my door all the time. I love a few cheeky cocktails! So he will need to leave his vino back at the grape vineyard. I do have an addictive nature and I am on heavy medication, so I drink – as safely as possible. The initial euphoria is all I ever wanted from drink or drugs and that is all I want and need now. I know all about the chase and the chase ain’t for me any longer. I am thankful that I’m not even 34 years old yet and I’ve learned huge lessons. Now, I have more ambition, respect, love and rather grand shit happening in my life.
I love the people who are in my life now. I love the people I connect with now. I also know they love me for me. Quirks and all.
I know we all go through shit and I am in no position to judge. Hell, if someone popped round to my house with some seriously good drugs I may be tempted to say -why not? I might not. I’m only fucking human… haha. The point being: I would think about if I really wanted to take it or not. Weigh up the pros and cons and not become a con so quickly. Such a bad pun -I’m taking it- it is mine.
These days I’m a rebel in other ways -I still manage to piss people off with my liberal views and non-conformist attitude to life. I realise that part of me was really me all the time. I didn’t need drugs and booze to be different or alternative. I already am. I have walked away from that life with multiple labels(inherited or not) and I’ve been through the bullshit. I still have to put up with bullshit. These days I tend to party in the light, in a world of sunshine and with the wind blowing. It’s a fresh kind of life, a pure ongoing festival kind of life. Easy and breezy and I’m content with it.
My mind has been focused on simple acts.
I got lost in the tiniest of fish bowls,
now I have got what I want, my mind is on detonate mode.
123 – it feels like I’ve sold almost all of my souls.
Bolivian marching powder?
No, not that kind of blow
I need a fix to settle these nerves.I have to take it and there are no more chances to ignore.
My very core.
Paddling with or without an oar.
What do I know about writing?
I signed up for this,now it feels like I have sucked myself into my own suicide pact, by leaking out the gas-
Riding on a high:I think I can fly.
I hit the floor -head first.
Brain cells die.
The illusion is no more.
Fish have evolved and learned to grow wings!
I’m a fallen angel, feathers already in place.
I shouldn’t have a problem claiming my precious, idolised rings.
It ain’t hard to fill out my own sin award credit tax.
Therefore, I are pilgrim -like innit mega -sir!
fetch me my gown.
My mind is running on crazy adrenaline,
panic sets in and I am fucked if I can remember whose bed I am meant to be in.
Perspective just got that bit closer
It punched me in the face-
Invisible fists just came at me like a ghost –
Can I do this?
I seem to always get what I want.
Except with emotional IQ situations – I kind of let that one slip into the abyss.
So, I continue to create my own destiny…
Fate is for people living in a book of dizzy ,fairy tale necessity.
I feel the fear.
I’m not gonna lie.
All this sudden knowledge makes me want jump ship and say,
‘fuck! Au revoir, matie. Here, you have a go and steer.’
Fear is good.
It means I care.
Passion is good
It means I will probably fare.
So cool how I fooled my way into school.
This shit could still just backfire- now who’s the cool fool?
Past is a bit tense.
Future has been signed by my consent.
Got to the end – we all want a happy ending.
I made this shit up.
Why do I justify myself to others if I’m not working in a full paid life capacity?
Why do I justify myself to others if I’m not working in a full paid life capacity?
It’s not like we’re still living in a Victorian era where I need to prove I’ve achieved my full belt in chastity.
I’m not kept nor groomed.
I’m a woman of the age of independence. When I hold my breath I think of the oceans of ambition, filling me to a combustion ends- infallibility.
Words to sell the people who haven’t walked a second in my shoes.
Self justification who’s never seen a man who sold ice creams on a beach with his bare arms.
He wouldn’t allow the cha cha dance of life to let him be the one who gave in to defeat.
Even when the sun, it melted into his ebony skin-a parched man not bitter .
Even when children mocked him with no adult to inform them they were creating a culture where we judge people by being born in breach.
These words are going nowhere unless I tell people I’m a winner regardless of the mind state – an alternative view they may one day wish to seek.
Their unbeknownst ignorance of those mountains I’ve so far climbed to be deemed fit in a society increasingly lacking in human empathy just to stay in view
To remain an arm within terre ferme reach
These are my words. This is what I wish to impart. I refuse to give up until my soul recoils from my body,
Honours it’s vow –till death do us part.
If you taunt me I’ve learned
Not to teach nor preach.
Life’s a beach.
I’m a woman of the world with nothing but reach.
Does this sound preachy ?
Shun not what you fear to understand
Don’t stigmatize the most inherent part in you; what makes you human!
Embrace each emotion &feelings.
My belief is if we hide our so called darker sides makes that part of our character stronger and unbalanced
Lessen that burden, become whole:
Be the full rainbow spectrum despite what your favourite colour is…
There is more to us than nuances of shady blacks & untouched white.
We have a choice to give in to or resist emotions that merely reflect we we are in our journey in life.
No journey is stagnant
No feeling is permanent.
Why are some emotions or feelings seen as bad or good? Aren’t they all important and deserve to be felt.
Nothing is stagnant.
It’s our fundamental nature to feel.
What do we do with our emotions ?
Our feelings and thoughts , what do we do with them?
Extract what you need in moderation?
This is not a comforting answer is it?
What is your answer ?
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 à châteauneuf 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 an 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 out of, 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 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….