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 …….
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.
Enough to keep all the rattling bones and bolts inside me cast a glow over my demeanour.
Look around. You see a flower wilt or bloom inspite of his brethren humming out sad tunes.
That’s Life continuing in spite of all that strife.
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.
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.
Swinging beneath the oak tree
I hear the tinkle of her laughter
I feel the breeze light
Peek through the tops of branches, undiluted sunshine ☀️flashes
it’s eyes looks down upon me.
The sight of the flowers so striking
I remember them so vividly.
My gaze momentarily suspended
beats blessed to be in this moment.
Mother and child together preserved in this portrait
My memory states nature is immortal for eternity.
I may not be anonymous
I’m predisposed to mostly white.
Paled by charming powder puffs
Under any paltry day or night.
I may not be anonymous
I may appear big, small heavy and then light.
one little line of chronic
then it’s down & up 1000s hillside slopes to cut the gluttonous lust.
It grows in fervour
Diminishes all care.
If time is money (Wutang)
then it’s wasted to card dealing chancers
who think it is fair in the twilight
to fight this addiction to an eating disorder.
Sizes me up
Rounds me in
Not time to feed but blanch Guts away to her final slaughter.
Why do I want to change my hues?
Or maybe these words are a whitewash of denial or a statement covering up a fat lie.
In this first episode, I was entertained and surprised at the talent of Rael. He won me over even more with his candid answers to his own mental health issues and his life. He inspired me to remember why I started wanting to interview creativists and explore the link between promoting positive Mental Health by explaining in his own words how music and turntablism and creating new content helped him to express himself & be heard in a way that he wouldn’t have been if he didn’t find a creative /alternative outlet to make sense of his world.
The second link we chatted about ghost towns latest album ‘Fringehead’ ( there is an actual fish called a sarcastic Fringehead. I googled it!
you can catch up with the full unedited interview here or read it over over my website.
I definitely recommend checking out his latest tracks
Talking Turkey from his forthcoming album due to be released in Sept/Oct.
Head to the feature below for more links
I’ve finally received my results for my 1st year, doing my Masters, in Creative writing.
PASS-with merit. I officially can use more random letters after my name — ha ha!
I am now in possession of a post-graduate certificate in the Arts and Humanities!
How’s this going to help me with what I won’t do?
I have a dream.
I do. 😀
One of my goals is to move back to France. They love people with diplomas. I hope to get a well paid job there. I need to book a trip to The French embassy later on this year. My husband has decided he is going to take on my surname and become a French national. He’s English!
He’s not only English, he is Northern, from West Yorkshire.
I feel so uneasy about my family not having a passport. My entire life, It was drummed into me to always have my passport (in date)in case, we moved countries.
Which we did- a lot!
Moving on . ( pun unintentionally intended :D)
What’s happening in my life?
Loads of shit- ha ha! as usual.
I’m doing better – I keep making a come back. Oh, life – you little tease!
Dare me to live.
Dare me to succeed!
MENTAL HEALTH UPDATE
Yeah, it’s been.
up and down,
up again ,
very up –
not quite sure
aargh why did that and that and that and ..
did I do that?
Those kind of moments, really.
Surely someone can relate?
Not happy about a medication increase in my anti depressant.
I don’t of any person who is on (high/ highest legal doses) of
Two anti psychotics
Two anti anxiety tablets,
and sleeping medication.
I know my health posse want the best for me.
I don’t bullshit them.
I tell if I’ve been using shit coping mechanisms, good ones. Thoughts ,feelings…
I made my psychiatrist laugh.
He offered me psychology therapy — again .
I was like:
‘Look Dr J, seriously every time I sign up to a pyschologist , they leave!’
All my psychologists have left me half way through doing whatever new pycho babble, current trend treatment , is used, to deal with folk such as myself.
One dude, fell asleep in a couple of our sessions.
So, I was like
‘ Listen, I know how to use CBT/DBT, I know how to communicate and talk. I know what keeps me well . I just want a cure’
Another laugh escapes from Dr J.
He is a legend.
A legend ? yes, but not a wizard 😦
He totally gets me and I feel I have a choice in medication changes etc..
I’ve asked to come off one of my meds because I don’t see the point of being on it. It hasn’t helped me.
These meds have affected my memory. I’m terrified of getting Dementia. I’ve been on (legal) tablets since I was 13/14 and I’ve never been off medication.
Talking about memory.
I’m using my creative outlets to start getting into the open mic poetry scene .
I love performing but my memory is really rubbish. I’m going to brave it by doing more live poetry next week. I’m excited. Nervous. It’s all good.
I have my final year of my MA to keep me — super occupied. There is a lot of work to do. For part of my thesis ( check me out)
I’m thinking of using my blog to interview creative folk who live in my community to talk about, their work, (durr!) Creativity and their mental health. My photographer mate is on board to take pictures. Some people have shown interest — yeah!
My heads occupied which is good.
How will doing this help me with my thesis and final work?
Well, I am going to use this year of discovery and research on the link between mental health and creativity as an alternative form of therapy to cope with life’s unpredictable moments.
Then I will have loads of inspiration to write a film script (120 minutes) on a character ,who , is thrown back into society after a long stint in mental /prison institutions , and who is looking to find him/herself and another way of being and expressing him/herself positively, in society.
The opening scene will kind of look like this
I have an ending – (a bit abstract at the moment) – saying there words:
‘I look around for the first time with clarity. And see I’m exactly where I need to be. Around the misfits. The beautiful misfits just like me.’
DAISY’S UN NAMED CHARACTER
It’s all early days and I still have 4 scripts to write, a critique and a character analysis on a famous playwright to do before the final chapter.
All in all. I’m alive, optimistic-ish, full of emotion, drive, passion , a pain in the ass but just doing my thing.
All terribly boring really… 😀
So, I am back!
I can’t commit daily to blogging but I have joined a group on Facebook.
Shout out to Gary @ fiction is food for adding me.
It’s a website for us!
I’m a newbie, its good be around other bloggers again. I’m hoping it will keep me off Facebook and keep me connecting with people like yourself. People who use their time more productively. Doh, oh the irony.
One rant before I go : I wish people would stop leaving public posts about my appearance on my Facebook.
If you ever happen to read this
I know you are having a shit time dealing with your own weight issues. I’m well aware of mine. Please take a look at yourself. Look after yourself first. If you don’t – FUCK OFF!
That is a wrap. I know. Hilarious! ha ha!
Thank you so much for reading
Time to step out and live real life..
Catch up soon!
What’s everyone else doing with life? Blogging?
I’m genuinely curious to know.
And at the peak of my insanity
A moment to glance away from my apparent reflection gunning down with its eyes of La Mort
I know that if I am able to glance away
at that reflection
of utter fear and self-loathing
my child in her stark purity dancing in front of the mirror.
If I found myself standing over her
pick up the comb, attend to her dutifully then
This motion is fuelled by a fierce love.
A fierce refusal to allow her child to be abandoned
by her own mother
The same mother who flees from her Self every day.
If this is not a demonstration of love
then it is a moment of clarity
I see the reality I have created.
I’m ready to tipple
Tears or bourbon
I’m no longer sure
Does it matter?
Then it is a moment of clarity.
These are my words.
Inspired by reading a passage of ‘Memoirs of a daughter’, written by Simone Beauvoir and her relationship with her mother.
Bang Bang, I’m going to shoot you dead!
Electric convulsive shocks creating heightened velocity in her head.
Trigger words of mothers who have died, snowed, under morphine.
Malignant lungs charcoaled.
The death rattle – gargles and fills up the lungs ready to drown every last Mercedes Benz dream.
Bang Bang – a Prayer sent up to her envisioned maker with every bad lead thought that scatters across her mind.
Know psalms off by heart. Guy Fawkes terrorism paid for this public bonfire – doesn’t make it right -doesn’t make it an act of kind.
Chug a glass of spirited potatoes – grapes squish out the thoughts that stain thy window.
Moderation is not what she seeks, she merely wants to come to terms with her grief.
Such a sudden blow.
Patriarchs invades her self-made sanctuary – no amount of sage can expel the plague he carries.
Itching, biting, scabbed. riddled with disease.
Blackened limbs fall off – ebony hearted-trickster – outlawed even the one he marries.
Therapy Cluedo in the south of France, – sewn up mouths and eyes , compassionless – flesh hanging – bubbled , leathered and well worn.
Every day he promises he will leave. He promises he will come visit his own mother – She can’t speak or talk – she is one of the frail old born.
Forlorn- A bus goes by – Sunshades hide the tears pouring out of her eyes.
Waving off a friend she once knew – she may be safe under lock and key – it doesn’t make her feel better when they embrace with such passion, it could stoke a field of fires.
Brazen- bewildered – lice infestation and puffed up Eskimo mess – Look at this fragmented shell , she is in need of just one caress.
Consumed with guilt – that is not hers to own. It is the cat’s fault your home is a shambles and smells of piss , whispers biased loose lips, fresh off a scandelous printing press.
Chased out of her very -own home – headphones firmly planted in her ears to make her life monotone .
A spectrum of color and vivaciousness she has lost- who can silence the screams pouring out of her mouth in tones of monochrome?
Safeguard her from inbred exploitation – cast back this tokoloshe to his own devised theater of purgatory.
If Jesus wept – he didn’t do enough- a lake full of holy water can never anoint his aimless trajectory.
Justice is who she sides with ,in every battle – Ready for an outbreak of war – she will evict Denial from her friend’s abode.
No more dossing about and ejaculating scandalous words – lies -that make justice’s head spin around so fast. Run Tyrant -she is about to explode.
Remember, what a scrupulous enemy she can make out of you.
Manipulation test- she scored well above average – The school of the gifted bestowed her with the largest milked cash cow taken from mother nature’s personal reservoir of dew.
She knows the rules, she knows the moves- instinct and empathy are her winning tools.
She cares not for his sexist Judgment increasing multiples of spore bacteria – frozen in barricaded transparent igloos .
All it takes is one breath of hers to melt him into a little boy blue. crying profusely until he is nothing but another muddled puddle in the tarmac.
A careless afterthought only remembered if one is quick enough to look at the sole of the innocent’s shoes.
* inspired by my own personal feelings towards something I have witnessed in silence for far too long. My fuse grows shorter*
I didn’t think I would want to write tonight. Then I started catching up on your blogs and once again you inspired me.
THANK YOU TO UNTANGLED -your post inspired this one.
Friendship is a theme I feel embarrassed to write about.
I could blame my lack of being a girl with loads of girlfriends on being an only child but I have to be honest and say I was unofficially “adopted “by a family of three brothers and a sister when I was 8 years old.
Life was good then. I know I have always been overly sensitive – blame that on insecurity perhaps.
Insecurity is a learned emotion. I’m learning to unlearn being insecure and vulnerable. I’m doing surprisingly well to be honest.
Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t friendless. I always had friends in some shape or form but I never could make that full sorority sister- hood connection.
It’s not me!
I was the reader. The one who loved to look at family pictures and laugh about silly shit.
I also moved around from place to place -country to country- a lot. I don’t think that helped.
I appreciate the travel and the different cultures now but then it wasn’t so cool.
I don’t know if this is a mental illness “thing”. I do think having mental health issues took a lot of my time.
A lot of my years, to be exact. This is a valid point I am making – it is MENTAL HEALTH AWARENESS WEEK FROM 16TH -22ND MAY2016– the theme this year is coincidently about friendship.
This post is kind of coming together.
I have had so many extend the hand of friendship over my life so far and I try . I do try and reciprocate….
….then I doubt myself.
I think are they pitying me ? WHAT IS THEIR TRUE AGENDA?
I have been used -soemthing we can all relate too? Or is it just me?
Isn’t that sad – in a pathetic sort of way?
I don’t think it is easy to make genuine friends who will stick by you through everything.
I’ve had quite a few people( who seem to have the rock star of friendship crowds) – reach out to me to ask for my opinion or to talk.
I wander around my mind questioning why not their closest friends?
I’ve got my hen do coming up and I suppose that has got me thinking a lot about friendship too, for obvious reasons.
There is random assortment of lovely people invited.Some I have known for many years in different ways and some not so long.
Surely, I can’t be the only one who feels this?
I don’t think people would volunteer if it wasn’t for at least part of the potential social life aspect.
I see these girls with their girlfriends and I wonder…
I don’t wander.
Am I lonely?
I think the saying about being in a room full of acquaintances and friends and still feeling alone and lonely holds true.
I sense I could be on stage -people come to see me and still feel alone.
I was feeling kind of emotional a few days ago (that time of month, wedding stress and life ) and a bit insecure with this whole hen do coming up.
My Ma is organising it and she has invited a bunch of people –
I got it in my head that these people were using the pity card and I cried to my Ma on the phone – (yes, 34 year old women do cry sometimes)
“I don’t have any friends “
My Ma was on the other end of the line and said
“I’m your friend”
She is -possibly one of the best friends I have ever had.
I said my good byes and wiped away my tears and then one friend I have known for years rang me. She is not very well. We have one of those when I see/speak to you -we pick up where we left off.
She wasn’t doing too well and I listened like I always do but then I had to tell her to listen to me.
This is new territory for me.
I told her all about my crap day and week and the shitty people I had to talk too and she just listened. We ended the phone call -laughing.
Another friend rang me and again – not a person I see all the time but we had a good giggle too.
So this brings me to the question can a person who services your car, as an example, become a friend?
I am supposing yes. Especially, when I consider the amount of life details and secrets we know about one another.
To me that person becomes my friend when I feel a sense/duty of loyalty towards that person.
I get on with guys but it would be awesome to find out what the whole ‘Sex and the city’ or ‘Friends’ friendship life is like.
So, yeah, I often took the lonely route to wherever I was headed -forever getting lost…