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Thoughts about my daddy issues
If this is hanging my “dirty ” laundry’ out then I will say that this a fresh lot of laundry, just out the machine. It smells of. Jasmine & posies. It’s clean.
And me? I’m only a rag n bone hope sapien like the rest of us. I do what I do to get by. Enjoy your day & if it isn’t Father’s day in South Africa (it is here in your Yorkshire).
I can still see the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh & I can hear your laugh in my inner ear (or mind).
HAPPY FATHERS DAY!
I wish I could give you a hug cos I know how close you were to your Dad. And the loss is hard. You have support ( and I will be thinking of you). I still remember how you broke down great Grandad fell ill when I was 12 or summit. I hugged you. And you let me hug you. It made me cry. These are my words.
Be careful what you wish for.
Days go by and merge into one long never-ending Groundhog day at times. Well, it does for me -every now and then.
I create excitement in my life by signing up to do things that I think are going to get me out of the slump. Give my life a wardrobe of scenery changes and with that hopefully comes new feelings.
These feelings are my drug- the euphoria I crave. The rush of blood to the head. Anything to make me feel worthy.
Be careful what you wish for.
In all the time I have wished for things to change and things to not stay the same. It has had good outcomes and bad.
I guess the crucial question is what is it I have been wishing for that I have created to become my reality.
What about relationships?
We can all get into “are we doing enough” in our relationships?
Are we living life together and truly going for it?
Be Careful what you wish for.
Sometimes it is okay for things to stay the same.
What am I going on about?
Say someone you care about has an appointment for an eye test or a medical review.
You then get a phone call saying that person has to go to hospital to get another opinion on their health status.
Why didn’t this person tell me things could get so serious?
I’m in shock. I don’t react.
This second opinion then turns into a third opinion.
No more mundane sameness. I have got my wish.
Am I prepared?
To do surgery or not? This is two people I know and love now, one is definitely having invasive surgery on Thursday and the other person is to find out if they should have surgery.
You can’t buy health.
You can try…..
When your health is steady and away -this is a good time to not wish that there was more going on in your life.
I would rather live the rest of my days partying hardly if it meant the health of the ones I adore didn’t go from not something to worry about, to
fuck what am I going to do if I lose you mode.
Accept that whatever/whomever you have in life is a blessing.
So what if you don’t have a model’s clothing wardrobe , a TV. the size of an over-inflated sponge bob character?
So what if you don’t get loads of likes on your posts, status updates and profile pictures?
Yes, all of these things can give you that high we crave. The one that gets our heart beating like a wooden drum.
Success after hard work or not is an exhilarating feeling.
Personally, I just don’t think it would keep my happiness momentum going, for as long as I had the people around me- well and in my life.
I too want to better myself and have everything better .Sometimes it’s alright if something is serving its purpose and is good enough.
I don’t believe we are put into the world to seek validation from others.
Though I can’t tell you how many times and years I have wasted seeking it.
There is so much that is superficial – nobody knows what is real.
I watched a documentary on the fashion industry last week. Watch the TRAILER if you can. Us ladies and now men strive to fit into clothes made to look good on a 13/14 or 15 year old child.
POTENTIAL NEXT BIG SUPER-MODEL !
nadya_vall
NADJA -SAME GIRL AS ABOVE. WE STRIVE TO LOOK LIKE THIS
The targets are the coy lolita looking ones that , say a girl out of Siberia -living in a world of poverty at the back end of a communist regime era , with the promise of earning loads of money and travelling the world off the back of their one playing card- their looks.
There are children going over to Asia or the West and can’t speak English and are children and get exploited. There is no glossing over it.
These girls start going to modelling schools as young as 5 years old learning to manipulate the camera –
Make love to it !
Isn’t it crazy that most of us humans in this world are brainwashed into having sick minds?
Isn’t there enough disease and suffering for the taking?
We get older and still strive to dress in provocative clothes that can only look good on a 13/14-year-old model!
That whole sentence is just incongruous.
This is the extent to how ill our society is.
How ill we all are.
We get older – fashion can’t survive on yesterdays’ image!
We don’t even have time to get the ‘today’ look off the hanger.
The fashion world and society won’t let us enjoy a moment that extends further than a sales transaction and a bag of goodies ,that mainly ends up as close to your body as that sinister lampshade you inherited from some distant relative.
It makes you shudder every time you pass it or look at it. Epic impulse buy. I buy into it -a lot of us do
So, we are always chasing the ‘look of tomorrow’, usually a younger version of some ‘ideal image’ that could easily have found its way into the Deity section in the Roman world.
77278716
It is an illusion.
Our bodies and minds change in our lifetime. Nature dictates and so does society.
Often both are in conflict.
We are not meant to be trapped in a peter pan -esque body for the rest of our lives.
I’ve kind of digressed.
Well, I have made it less personal.
This is how the post started- health and my loved ones as being something personal to me .
I guess I have taken the model industry and society as an example of our idea of what healthy and successful is.
It then becomes something that is hopefully a post we can all relate too.
If it is personal to all of us, maybe we can understand or start to question what is the picture of true health and success.
What is true happiness?
What is true?
There is no need to go chasing dreams and filling other’s pockets if it is going to make you ill.
Instead of being a small dot in someone else’s story, go and make your own. I’m sure you will get to the end of your story in a better mental and physical state . HAPPY EVEN!
Be Careful what you wish for.
Will dance for Life.
“To become a spectator of one’s own life is too escape the suffering of life” OSCAR WILDE
WILL DANCE FOR LIFE
“To become a spectator of one’s own life is to escape the suffering of life” OSCAR WILDE
Last night, I came across this quote and I began to ponder on it. I went to bed with it in my head. It is obvious to me that I have been a spectator when I was taking drugs or drinking too much. Yet, I was still suffering.
I think the way I dealt with social services when I was proving myself as a worthy mother was a time when I should have suffered the most.
I didn’t cry every night. Hardly ever.
I didn’t go drinking and getting high and over-dosing every night or even every 6 months.
I began to watch my life unfold.
I was actively participating in it but for a while my mind needed breaks- binge watching horror movies, stand up comedy and other series .Learning to eat properly again and not party.Take my medication even though it makes me put on weight. I couldn’t be a Brecht- like spectator 24/07
I learned to live an almost hermetic existence. I DID become closer to my Mom and my hubby and I found out a lot about who I really am.
I couldn’t throw myself in the whole emotional vortex that was my life 24/7 because I think I would still be in it.
I had to take it day by day.
Moment by moment.
I had to become an active spectator because I had a choice to make. We always have a choice to make.
Of course on some level I must have suffered not being able to see my daughter for more than 10 hours a week for 16 months.
But the more I stopped looking at social services’ presence in my life as an invasion. I began to observe them as they did with me and the relationship dynamics began to change.
It’s a most surreal idea to say I never suffered when I was fighting for my daughter.
When the control of how I governed my life needed a full 360 degree turn. The control became about governing myself.
I did have moments where like a spectator I cringed and was brought to tears and “oohed” and “aahed” .
It was like listening to a song that disarms you for however many moments.
All songs end eventually.
Then, I was free to spectate again.
Sometimes not knowing what to do and just doing what I felt was right is what I think saved me.
I called social services – MY UNWANTED ENTOURAGE.
It was our very public joke .
Because let’s face it -if I am ever going to need an entourage -I am going to pick a P.A., a hairdresser, makeup artist, editor, childminder,accountant etc…
But on the other side of the coin if you remain a mere spectator in your own life –
yeah sure you won’t suffer,but
you might just forget to feel.
If I can’t feel then what is the point of getting married?
Having children?
Having friends?
If I can’t participate in life because I am scared I am going to be let down then that is just a cop out.
When I risk the chance of suffering or potentially being let down or hurt…
If I participate, I have half a good chance to make things right.
I get to fight for who and what I want in my life.
So we must suffer but the rewards, on the upside ,are the people we have around us and the experiences we get to feel that makes suffering worthwhile.
There is a saying – it goes something like this:
“How can we be so sure to ever know and appreciate true happiness if we have never experienced disappointment and unhappiness?”
I have learnt to take more risks with my heart and I have become a more open and aware person.
Yes, when we love others – friends,family – our partners…
There are going to be rough times.
Just be there.
You don’t have to give advice.
Just listen and check in every now and then.
If you want someone in your life.
Ask that person to be there.
They can only say Yes or No.
More to gain than lose if your heart’s intentions are good.
The unsensational one dimensionals
The pain inside me remains the real deal
It’s a tragedy how I only cruise on wordpress when I have tears dripping onto the steering wheel.
The journey that promotes me to tap away is always inspired by an ill gotten day.
Deal with the past. It’s too easy to blame.
I swear, I look forward.
Stand up for where I go wrong and who I maim.
Revolving doors of asylum, inpatient wannabe beauticians.
Incredulous that my own mother
bipolar, institionalised,
beaten by her lovers and suffered her own ills.
Thinks its better to throw me behind the institution with E.C.T. waves and the barbed wire.
Jesus had a crown of thorns – aesthetically cruel in their Romanic decisions.
It’s a loop on a loop.
more drama –
Every.
Week.
It’s.
Something.
New.
No.
every week its the same song coming out in different shade of blue.
This won’t disappear by erasing my face from your mind.
My child is my glory.
You wonder why i can’t take this lying down?
instead I give you the flamboyant, cussation sign
Call the crisis team.
We live in a Theresa May ,Tory sperm infested government.
I’m not suicidal.
I’m not drinking
I’m not overdosing
Not taking drugs.
Merely holding myself at a metaphorical gunpoint.
I want to protect my family from the inner Iago in me.
Deceives and twists all the good my heart seeks to see.
A mighty herculean -blinded by rage.
Numbers are his torment – he looks to them like riches dripped in gold.
an obssesive compulsive disorder compells him to have less –
It must be all light and sage.
Alone , i wake up to the sound of silence.
No daughter to say good bye to ,
no husband plodding about drinking coffee and watching QI on rinse.
In Africa I would be welcomed for my rise in weight.
I’m not in Africa.
I’m in a mind fed on media, with distorted ideas about what to look like.
Social media , I hate.
Insight is a curse -Ignorance is bliss.
Two weeks away from my deadline.
Post graduate, Daisy willows , in the Humanities
I should be riding out to the ocean to collect my sun’s kiss.
I feel like I’m there for everyone- I listen to their woes.
I jump up and celebrate every time they make a success of their lives.
They shine so bright – I call them my ‘little twinkle toes’.
I know I shouldn’t expect,
then I wouldn’t ‘t get disappointed.
I do,
i do…
I do..
life.
I keep up appearances until the night terrors pull me out of my bed, torture me under veiled sight.
Days
filled with infected cuts and perceptions line up disjointed.
I’m not the only one who doesn’t have a family!
So, why do you get the hump when i have no other alternative but to call up the family intervention team?
I want my daughter to grow up without these bouts of fits & confusion.
the cycle of poorly managed mental health to skip a generation .
Enough with another ‘daughter following in her mother’s steps’ delusion.
There is more to the back lash of her tounge and callous remarks than plain old wickedness.
We are a narrative of complex emotions bound up, in a body of flesh and bones.
look beyond your eye line fall.
Seek and you will find a person who is not transparent -less.
Sick of seeking approval from social media one dimensional folk.
Cull the people who can’t see it for what it is.
Fakery
it’s beyond a joke.
Cutting down on so called friends.
re catagorise my means to justify making ethical ends.
People see right through you
Unless your name is printed in black and white.
The best stars shine and go about unseen,
making wishes of hope seem bright.
Her rage tips over the sides – the current for those who get credit for being generico stereotype.
It’s all hype.
they barely even look alive.
I want justice.
I want the people who make a difference
to get credit where its due.
I’ve had enough of this fake bakery .
Diabetic shots brings out the bad assery in me.
I’m done with pretentious folk .
Emotional vampires who expect.
Because they think they precribe the ideal look.
Its sad, a shame.
Don’t get caught up in the superficial.
Remember, reality goes way past the fantasy of this screen.
Cos we naturally wired to be a human being.
We need to communicate
reciprocate.
Technology has purpose – it’s not for living life in a kumbaya state.
So many lies,
people all have ties
Issues-
That keep them reaching out for 39p tissues.
I’m here for authenticity.
Denounce those who I see,
in all their duplicity.
I can’t be good and kind to all that seek attention.
selfish,
marred
How tragic is this situation?
Goodbye to many of you.
who will never wake from your boggled eyed fallacy.
I don’t do this out of spite or even maliciously .
I see clearly what and who holds me back.
My sole purpose is to stay on track.
So good bye to some of those
I’ve met on my path
Good luck with your life and everything that comes with decisions aftermath.
I aint got no more energy for you.
My people, my life needs my attention. Arrears paid up –
Well overdue.
Mini life update 14 days until I hand in my End Of Module assessment for year one of my Masters. 😛
I will have a post graduate certificate in the Humanities 😛🤓🤓
I have news….
A director (not name dropping) wants me to send him my script about the homeless couple.
I don’t think Im going to……..
Or maybe I should …..
I don’t know.
I’ve never thought I was a good enough writer to see my work brought to life.
It”s scary to think that success is possible.
Rejection is normal, but the more I distance myself from the people in my life who made/make me feel shit about myself, and my abilities, and my sense of belonging; the more I meet people who see the good in me .
I don’t want to feel like shit around people.
So, I would rather be surrounded by a small number of those who are true and think I’m cool ish 😎😉.
Let the rest of world get their claws out in their need for attention, and to be heard.
Be humble.
Life is a blessing already
One thing is for sure. I will never work for fame. I will always work for justice and what is right.
I’m struggling, but never will I give up or give in.
This heart beats.
These eyes have fire behind them
DAISY
Xxx
Old soul
OTHER WORDLY .
Unfathomable to relate how a portrait of an unaffected cherub
mirrors
a forgotten dimension to
the paradigm LONER.
PENSIVE – angelic eyes
unfreeze momentarily — expressions animate the oil painted canvas.
Voice barely audible -mouths out to me
Who is this new persona?
Blood of my labour sworn to tell the gospel TRUTH.
Astonished -wrinkles crease — at time ‘s wildfulness to penetrate her innocence—
She’s not looking back at her youth.
BULLIED
The cycle continues-
Elders blame the outsider for a lack of faith in conventional —Spirituality.
ELDER peers down through an intoxicating incensed haze.
Measure me up.
Squares me up.
On humble grounds
I stand a full head above her broad shoulders.
Closer to her divine maker
pious prayers hail down
the blame game
the name game.
Tortured soul seeker
Scarpers for the licks of hell’s flames.
trips over underwood
poltergeists log a strategic placed guilt ambush
rotting the core of this circle of life’s CONTINUITY.
AUTHORITY ISSUES.
Time will decide whether we are cosmic twins born 3 decades APART.
This is her descent to destiny .
roughly sketched into this world-
pallid , charcoal smudged into silence.
An artist confronted with his frailty to conceive life.
Mourns the leftover clots of a being.
Miscariage – remnants of nurture -a mere puddle of blood outlining his corrosive flaw.
A splattering of colours, tears stained by remorse.
a howl of def toned melancholy
The artist sips a cup of penny total tea.
recomposed.
A sighed relief-
she has -AWAKENED.
ALONE – – is she fated too?
-The rebels never conforms
Transience
Stricken by the awareness of my own
MORTALITY.
INQUISITIVE betrayed by her translucence
frown rouges her cheeks in introspection.
familiar strange words
Alienation effect prompts a impulsive turn around
the past
curses
damning this loner to truly see.
An epiphany of divine INSIGHT
UNDER or OVER ACHIEVER perfection adorned with feathers of liberty –
don’t try to please anyone!
A storm intervenes obscuring the BIGGER PICTURE-
Save that energy
for life
is a gift and
It’s your greatest fight.
RESPONSIBLE for so much — tempted by earth’s seasonal affective disorder
Why does she have to be mortal?
Wings hook into shoulder blades
Reduced to a puppet attached by silver linings.
aerial view-
panoramic
circular murmuration
obsessive.
Eyes strain ,blood shot.
Wind exhales mustard peppered vapours
orchestrating sight to follow a new PERSPECTIVE.
WISDOM revealed by the crooked halo’d questions
glitterer
shimmers her every inflection.
the yearn of experience — to keep heavens babe toothless , unaware of the survival evolution taking place
Within.
TENACIOUS – I overlook her every smile
from above
stitched up my heart
remains
the scapegoat
the seeker.
until a moment forces me to find a burial ground
Unwillingly close my eyes –
the universe screeches –velocity erases all time.
Formless parts full up spaces amongst the dirt.
await for these settlers to wipe all memory from this life.
Old souls are never alone for eternity.
We have one another to rise above our hurt.
knowledge is power, wisdom is happiness and truth is freedom
Not a rant
known for ranting about the men who do me wrong.
Today
I don’t care enough to write about men who clearly hear beats from some other song.
Usually my posts carry at least 900 words.
Today –
Daisy , me – 37 year old, divorced and a mum with heart and
played,riffes strummed ,
duh dum!
Okay.. throw in a hum.
Thank you men who are wonderfully crazy
I’ve been their hazy daisy
Now is my time to pull back the sheets
and embrace my beauty ,my flaws without hearing insults thrown at me.
Not an easy caveat
I’m a lover ,Im’ a fighter ,I’m passionate,
I’m not a pliable little girl.
I cry
I pick myself
I’m fierce.
A mama bear has fire
baby bear follows
in hesitant paws.
A Shrug.
My love.
My love.
My loves
are bigger than the swell of the Titanic
Meet the match you’ve stroked.
Daisy grew up.
Forever wild and passionate.
I know my worth.
I let men talk.
I let men walk.
Some men just want a woman to be who they need them to be.
Hey, I see the good –
I love the good in the men I’ve opened my heart to.
I would give my last penny or hug to someone even when I know it’s not going to work out.
Call me whatever you want .
Yes, I have a cunt.
I can bitch at times.
I’m possibly possessed ,fiery
even a witch.
No more interest in the chase – stop caring to write words about men who make less sense than my stream of consciousness works.
I’ll settle for a man who knows how to deal with grown ass women.
Flawed, beautiful , funny,weird ,crazy, dazed, Drugged ,sober , quiet , over talkative, skinny ,curvy, ill behaved, lovable, ditzy, smart -a conundrum of premium star dust.
If Men are afraid it’s because she- me knows what she wants.
run away and give way to a man I can adore.
This isn’t poetry, it ‘s me – never hide behind a front.
Daisy speaks her c’est la vie.
Sheep on suicide
Where is my mind?
The weed who has every right to declaim — life’s not fair.
I’m back , I’m here . And a round of applause for me.
I’m reclaiming my life!
Life is like tax credits. We have to keep on reclaiming it to make sure we get it.
For one reason only:
This is my life and I care.
separated from the one I thought I loved needed.
woke up
saw my life for what it really is
If that makes me a hard bitch, emotionless or selfish.
I’ll take every adjective and I’ll mix it in with my next meal.
Add an extra portion of muscles and plenty of shellfish.
One life to choose.
Mine or another?
I choose me and my daughter.
Every. Single. Time.
I’m a cheater, I’m a druggie. I’m crazy. I’m a …what?
I ain’t got time for your nonsense,
Pack your shit up and get out;
so I can raise my family
to understand
people are human.
Some people keep on building the same rickety, useless fence over and over and over.
And then die.
If my vices-when activated
render me a misfit of society?
Bah j’en fiche!
Translation –
Whatever! I don’t value your opinion.
I’m not suicidal.
I’m not a sheep.
I’ve been swimming since I was living in an amniotic sac.
Water baby.
Born and bred.
The water life chose me.
Life is not fair — don’t be patronizing.
Boy ( you’ll be a man soon)
Listen. I don’t need you or you type.
I sure as hell, don’t want you.
What about all I’ve done for you.
I literally picked you off the street.
Must I go into detail ….
Nah! Bro.
My issues.
My mind.
I’m dealing with it.
I can’t hit a button and go on the rewind.
My daughter.
My daughter.
Her bond to me- is first and foremost.
She’s already living a lie.
I have to explain to her who her biological father is.
Parents walk away every day from their children.
Others do step up
and do good by them.
Until… abuse and disrespect start again.
Back off deal with your emotions.
Cut the strings. Grow a ..ahem
Pair of wings.
Fly – be ambitious — live your life.
You want to be role model?
Live your life.
Make something.
Anything.
That is the greatest show of love you can bestow on a child.
Show them –
yes, life is unfair.
No one ever said it was easy.
Nobody wins a prize for it.
Depending on your religion.
If you want a prize
go pick one and go with it.
We just gotta keep going on,
Don’t lose sight of that lighthouse.
It will bring us back to shore.
I can’t carry another dead weight.
I need to save myself and my child.
I was drowning in all of your shit.
BLAH!
BLAH!
BLAH!
The ones I chose to sleep with, and play a game of common whores.
We can all do chores
We can all be whores.
We can all be bores.
Genderize it. Put it into context.
I look around me and everyone with ‘a stick to throw’ has disappeared.
I’m on my knees.
A new dawn, a new day.
New gossip to come — Lodi Dodi -there’s some tussle or gossip to come from some other party.
(Slick Rick reference)
Fodder for the foraging masses.
Self brainwashing
I don’t owe you an explanation
time,
money,
me!
If being busy is a sign of vindictiveness
If saying no- is a sign of vindictiveness-
Throw that hoop on me.
And I’ll hula hoop my way into ‘the vindictive dance award’s category.
What else can you/people throw at me?
It hurts more when I’m unstable, high – not using my resources.
When I’m me. I can take it.
It doesn’t hurt.
big heart
Increasingly
Selective.
my journey,
my life —its where I’m at
Live for yourself.
miserable human lives for someone else’s approval.
Trust me, I’ve tried, never lied, nothing to hide.
Everything to gain
lose my sanity, possibly my child?
My Biggest gamble.
willing to take my own life.
You’re stood there crying like you are’ the shook one.’
I’ve stepped into reality.
Scraping dog shit off my shoes every day.
willingly believe dog shit is a sign I’m going to receive good news.
willingly believe that I have what it takes to make it — Again.
gasped my first breath in years.
lookup,
see beauty,
the stars,
see promise.
Not willing to let you cripple me
see another way-
see another route never said I cared about you or him or that.
probably did.
probably did
probably do. This is where I am at.
I do not answer to you.
Or you –
maybe you.
I know who I have to answer to.
Pass me more tissues
aware of my issues.
My life or yours?
I’d be certifiable insane if I allow me to take more attempts on my life.
On a final note
‘I am an artist and I’m sensitive about my shit ‘
TECH N9NE
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IKs5OsT4dIY
- Photo credit Francesca Woodman
Catch 22
Fall – leaves turn shades of browns and greens.
my heart dips and I don’t feel that same sense of summer’s beams.
Alone. I look to my left. Creativity shines- glitter, stilettos- latex, white faux fur coats. All legs.
Like a string of pearls flung across a room, a musky scent wafts across my midst.
Temptations persist. Glamour. Warmth is all I seek. Summer, why do you have to be so cruel?
I know if I cross over to the other side – I’ll be feeling the warmth – it will be pimped out inbox ring styles – I won’t have time to dodge the fists.
My body will burn up an exotic shade of hues. I will have no rest.
Hell is the other side of Summers gluttonous jazz bassline.
One hit. One vein. Blood – artificial nirvana could infiltrate my being.
I won’t have to think of the biting cold that is ringing in my ears. Muffled will be the ice cone, frozen on the edge of my nose. It doesn’t matter who sees that I have been seen.
Bus shelters full, spikes erect from the corporate underground – I can’t sit down. I know it takes fewer muscles to smile than frown.
Energy is all I have to see me through this cycle of undomesticated abuse. October may be Domestic abuse awareness month.
If I hadn’t left my keeper, I would still have a roof over my head.
A blanket.
I would still be touched.
Roughed up.
Better the devil you know – I know every one of his moves. I know when to dissociate –
detach my mind
from my body.
Floating above the marital, martial art stylised bed – I see myself and that devil I married, grabbing folds of my skin. He doesn’t notice the smell of the new conditioner I bought at Asda or how soft the sheets feel now they have been newly spun.
Dryer. I’m dry. He doesn’t notice the lack of moisture. He doesn’t notice that all of that fluid has shot up to my eyeballs. I refuse to let them free flow – I am not her. I’m floating.
Fly on the wall. Caught up in a spiders web. I have to watch. It doesn’t matter if I have a crick in my neck – oh hang on a minute is he choking me?
Leftover food languishing in the sink drain. He switched the waste disposal on to automatic.
Arrested, I am back in bed, under him. Time to vogue with my lips and give him a little pucker.
These white sheets have turned red in his need to let off steam. I come out in blisters hovering underneath his vapour.
Turn my neck – feels like I need a box of throat lozenges for having to get all deep throat.
5 am flashing in stimulant green.
I’m 5 months pregnant. I am going to be late.
Grab the nearest decent clothes. Pull-on my Adidas trainers. Scrape my hair up into a ponytail.
Finally the motivation to go on the run. I don’t have to time myself. I know his schedule well.
An Olympic torch passes into my hand. I’m running for freedom. Liberty is my destination.
I can start over.
Spring – blues, violets, colours in a perfect union – uncompressed. Naturally dressed.
For the first time in months, I feel like I belong. I too am a medley of colours. I blend in.
Natures milkshake collects in my breasts – 4 months to go until I give birth to a miracle of pure life.
Not branded a colour – just innocence – a chance to see a light – work on my soul and tackle it all. This is the only cure.
Vanilla.
I am no Killer.
Life goes in cycles. It passes by fast. There are no traffic jams when you have to pick up your feet and walk.
Eyes cast down, belly protruding.
Christian volunteers crouch down next to me- hand me a card.
Die and be reborn.
They can help me. I just have to give my old life to our saviour. I’ve never met him but he sounds
Forgiving, comforting, caressing- a handwash with extra Aloe vera – calming properties.
All I have to do is offer my unborn child to him and I can enter paradise with the rest of my weary comrades.
Eyes raise up to the bitter sky. I’ve always thought whatever is up there twinkling and winking down at me is having a far better time than me.
My unborn deserves a place in heaven. Earth only promises scars and wild jungle roots to keep it grounded to the spot.
The ultimate sacrifice.
Did I fold in with this cult out of cowardice?
I will drink my poison.
Maybe this winter I will be reunited with the one that let out a sudden cry.
Lead me not into temptation. I lie down, no need to be afraid, child. I close my eyes and sigh.
Hope is my last premise.
* Inspired by domestic violence awareness month*
OCTOBER 2016 (IMAGE SOURCED FROM GOOGLE)
HERE IS A LINK TO A POST I WROTE,ON 11TH MAY 2016 , ABOUT MY OWN PERSONAL EXPERIENCES IN A D.V. RELATIONSHIP , TO RAISE DOMESTIC ABUSE AWARENESS IN MY COMMUNITY AND SOCIETY.
CLICK ON THE PINK HIGHLIGHTED LINK BELOW
THE FREEDOM PROGRAMME
*photo credit Rhode Island Francesca Woodman, Benjamin Moore *
Can I have a sugar daddy?
You were the first real man I knew, not some boy but a real man.
I tell myself I have dealt with the indifference. Yet, as soon as I find a way to make contact again. I let all my pride go and open my heart and soul to you. I do it publicly on social media websites. I end up looking pathetic but I don’t care.
I post things like:
I hope you will forgive me one day so we can build up a better relationship
or I tag you hoping you will comment back.
I am looking after your queen. I won’t let you down.
I comment on those silly quizzes you do that pop up on Facebook, like
WHAT NATIONALITY SHOULD YOU BE? –
ME: You got you look like a Spaniard – haha! funny I got I should be American (silence)
New comment from a friend: I got Portuguese
You to friend : you look Portuguese
I don’t want anything from you . Okay that is a lie. I only want a bit of your time, a few words once a few years.
She warned me not to go there again. I wasn’t prepared to have my heart broken again.Well, not broken but pumping with less voracity than before.
I know I wasn’t the most affable of characters all those years back. I mean what did I know at 12, 15 years old? 24 years old ? Not much.
Yet, that was when you first turned your back on me.
I know I have mental health issues and to you it’s all just,
DRAMA. DRAMA. DRAMA.
A heads up? It’s not been a fucking picnic or tropical island holiday for me either.
Do you ever think about me?
What do you feel when you look at a picture of me? Do you look at pictures of me?
Are you so distant with everyone? We’ve been drunk and stoned together and you are a legend at Karaoke . Over the years, I have seen how you make everyone laugh…
Why don’t you talk to me when I Skype? I know I fall way down the bottom of the hierarchy chain of the many girls in your life.
To have a slice of your heart…
Well, of what is left to give. Is that what it is? You haven’t got any more heart to give?
I don’t want much… a few words, a phone call – no maybe that is too much..
Okay ,what about a teeny tiny interest in my life on social media perhaps… You live so far away and it’s my only source of contact.
Why do you reply to other peoples comments on what you post but not mine?
Why don’t you reply to my emails?
I’m not bad. I’m actually a fucking awesome person. Why can’t the past stay where it is?
Don’t judge me.
I don’t judge you.
I thought I had closed the door on ever having a chance with you again. I opened it again three months ago, feeling we were in a more equal position. Me being older and you being older – wiser they say..
Never mind, I have googled the meaning for indifference again and read it out loud,to remind myself.
I can’t make you love me or want to contact me. I know you are going through hard times – if you must know-
we all do .
Maybe if you decided to chat properly with me I could make you laugh. We may find out we have more in common than you think.
Done with this post. Finally got it out of my head. I can move on again.
No blame.
Never blame.
I am an adult and I choose to be happy.
I don’t resent you.
I am curious to know you.
I am sure if you let me closer, you would find I actually like you and love you- unconditionally.
But it is cool.
You are over there and I am over here.
Living our lives.
Your blood runs through my veins.
Nothing has changed and that is cool too.
Indifference it is then, dad.
For the doubters..
FOR ALL THE DOUBTERS
If you could see what others do. You have always let doubt confuse your idea of who and what you are capable of.
I have always known you to be beautiful in all ways and I have learnt and felt your loyalty, pride and strength of character. We somehow picked one another and I drew a good hand.
You are the best kind of romantic and that quality needs to be nurtured and not be exploited by those who don’t understand your story and how you got to the person you are today. There are plenty of people who are not worth the bother, believe me, don’t believe me. I think you know that.
The past is way back over there. These are exciting times. Now,the future. Some of the best years of your life are waiting to be lived. You can afford to be picky. You deserve someone to ‘hug you so hard they will put all your pieces back together’.
Don’t let ass holes or wankers ruin today and the future for you. There is a lesson to be learned from everything we do and experience.
Yes, it is easy to pick out the negatives but on the plus side -you are free, you have been incarcerated, masks have dropped revealing the truth that cannot be covered up any-more, don’t take it personally. You were honest from the beginning. Take pride in that. Hold your head up high.
This is a new page, a fresh book even. You need as much light and love as possible to create the magic you want. You have not wasted time if you have taken some time to do a bit of searching within and decide what to take with you into this day and discard what has left you high and dry in the past. I read somewhere that the thoughts we think are mantras and a form of prayer.
Be aware of what your thoughts are saying; they may just turn into your reality. Take the time to find out what you are wanting from your life.
There is so much out there. There is something so rare about you. Life can be cruel but you have remained gentle and kind and it shows. You are one of the toughest people I know.
Please do not be mistaken that I think you are weak. Far from it. We are making good experiences and only the best people should be allowed to come on that journey, don’t you think?
Don’t shun all people thinking everyone is like the last person you shared your heart with. Don’t harden -don’t clam up. You are able to re-define your world on your terms.
Love as much as ever. To love is never a fault. To love the wrong person is easily done when someone is not upfront with you from the beginning or who breaks your trust.
BELIEVE!
Believe that there is magic and you are creating it. Shake off the doubts and smile, glow, be who you are.
There is no fault to be found in you. I have so much respect for you and admire you.
So many really do BELIEVE! do what must be done so that you can close this door and open to a new day.
Daisy in the willows 
4 responses to “For the doubters..”
Littered with gorgeous morsels of advice! Stunning work
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i see you listened to hold your fire as well the cut? turn the page!
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Turning it as we speak 😀
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from 1987. i good little cd from that canadian power trio.
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