Blog Archives

Chair meeting (hung) over

Down with procrastination
Up with productivity

#justsaynotoslumps
Keep pushing on.
Is there a social media ban app that won’t let me unblock until I say it can unblock me ? 樂樂樂樂

I’ve been on a manic induced high for a week . I’m crashing down .
I can’t hit the  dug out ditch
Comfortably numb
soiled and moist 

I have people who I want to be there- cemented in a consistent framework-  for.

A lot of new changes happening in my life  etc…
And the depression is real.
Nothing makes sense,
Discombobulated sums it up best.

The tears are pulling at the heart- spiritually & physically .


Them those tears that seem forced
if you try to visibly show your seismic shamic induced  seizure of the internal  crustal plates  of your entire cosmos .

The Internal  inadequacies
An inferno of anxieties .
Various maladies & malaises.
It all comes across as dramatics, fakeries…
Not worth the eyes snapping desparatly in driftly

A backdraft of procrastination confirms I can’t complete my goal ( just a thought)

And reinforcees the belief that I’m  damned as a  writer .
A fraudster..

I never want to pick a pocket or two
Just say no to the plague or schism ..


Just do it !
Get my heart  into gear and finish my task .


Sincerely,
The * literally *  illiterate  literate..

Tears of unsung fabrications
Turn into tears of gaye garment fruition.
I need  more vacations
Less over occupied vagabond vacants  at my omission.

Boundaries not bondage.

Mah… bah

Ever felt like this ….

A special girl

I know a special girl whose heart is full of sunshine .

She dances her way around the world to deliver her own special punchline

She laughs so distinctly that people cannot help but become infected

It is a sight to behold when this observation is detected She is gracious and kind and is delicately inclined the phrase ‘she is an angel’ are the only words that come to mind .

Her name means beautiful-that of body, mind and soul and to have her touch so many lives confirms her title role.

She is my modern day princess -so noble and full of grace I love her with all my being and she is a person that I cannot replace

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, my sweet child. You are the true gift I found it in your innocent eyes and that was the day my world truly began to shift.

Even Academics can get into Violent relationships

 

I AM SO A GRADUATE WITH A BACHELOR OF ARTS WITH HONOURS (in the arts and humanities)

I haven’t had my graduation ceremony yet and with all that has happened this year, I totally forgot that I have finally finished my degree. My other half was going ballistic (in a good way) and looked at me and asked me why I looked so down. I guess either I am still in shock or I don’t think it is that big a deal compared to what other goals and shit I have had to focus on this year. So let me high 5 myself and reflect on how the path to get my degree became – the successful one.

Way back in 2007,I had just come out of the hospital with a BMI of 16. I enrolled at my local college in the U.K. to do my BA in acting performance.

I was with a lovely group of talented individuals and managed one term. I was quickly losing more weight again and my mental health went down. I could not maintain a low BMI. I either had to go lower or higher and I went lower. I managed to get merit (when they still called it that) for my classical acting. How amazing is that?

I wanted to engage with my group but I couldn’t shift the anorexia. I had become a sub-host to it.

Back in 2008, I decided to have another go at it. I had gained a normal amount of weight. I met a seemingly lovely man who swept me off my feet. He worked in the army and ended up going on tour for 3 months in Canada. I went to live in Barcelona with my Aunt for a few months and partied hard. Hit Ibiza with my cuz and when I came back to the U.K I was ready to piece my life back together.

The night I arrived back in the U.K. was the same night the army guy got back and he came straight to see me, bringing me little gifts back from his tour. I was so touched and couldn’t believe we had another chance to get to know this one another again and give him my heart. I invited him for a meal at my Nan’s house the following evening as he was rather ‘fatigued'(such an elegant way of putting it)  from his flight.

The following day he texted me to tell me he was getting his car serviced and would see me later. Later turned into 6pm And 8pm and then 9pm. The curry was losing it’s cool. I rang him asking him why he hadn’t pitched up and he completely dissed me on the phone and told me he was with his family and I can’t make him choose his family over me! WTAF?

If he had explained that he wanted to be with his family then I would of got it.-The lovely army guy broke my heart. He didn’t want to be with me. I internalised all this as my fault. I had put on weight, I had been homeless and had recently found somewhere in the U.K. to live and I thought I wasn’t good enough. I remember walking my Nan from my new home to the bus stop and I broke down. I didn’t know how much I liked this guy until I felt my heart tearing. Each sob caused another tear and another.

In 2009 I was finally in a better place and I was ready for another attempt to get a degree in the arts arena. I started a  two Foundation Degree with 24 students. By week two that had whittled down to 7 students. Again a totally different bunch of lovely people. I fucked up. I stopped taking my meds. I was trying so hard to fit in but I guess I felt a bit intimidated by all the talented actors and talent. I didn’t know then that they were all just as frightened of failing as me. At first I  was coping and I managed to go out get wasted and silly and form friendships. Standard uni stuff. One night a girl on my course rang me and told me to come out. She said the night was on her. I got dressed and put on my party face even though at that time I was taking 100 laxatives a day.

When people asked me out I would say ‘Awesome. I will be there’  I had a bad habit and once I had taken those tablets I was ill. I mean of course, I had the shits. Haha. Never thought I would be typing this but the moment before I purged I had stomach cramps that pushed and pulled and stabbed at me from the inside. I couldn’t walk from the spasms. SO that night I gave a big fuck you to Anorexia and went out to have some fun and bond with some friends.

My taxi pulled up at ‘the only reputable club’ in that locality and I saw my college friend wave at me and she was laughing and she gave me £50 and told me to come with her. It was a bit. Well, I was sober and everyone else was hammered. I didn’t find it funny. I wasn’t in the zone yet. I went to the bathroom and then I went to look for the pack and I couldn’t find them anywhere.

My mobile battery died and I turned around to the first person I saw to ask that person if I could use their mobile. I happened to bump into the person who went on to degrade and disrespect me in the most colourful and inventive ways. I couldn’t find anyone so we went back to mine and drank until………… I passed out mid-sentence.

This guy wouldn’t leave me alone. He was lovely at first but really full-on. I tried to back away. My friends told me he looked creepy. Leave him alone.

A guy from uni came up to me and told me that creepy ex was well and truly creepy and to stay away. Did I listen? no, I let my insecurities get the better of me. I melted into his world. At first it was flattering that someone would want to be around me so much. I didn’t think I was going to get in a relationship with him. I was trying to make friends and I had my eyes on someone else.

Out of respect to my daughter, I won’t go into a diatribe of events. He tried to take my soul. When he couldn’t have all of me he came up with a cunning plan to try and take my life away from me. Our daughter. During this time I could feel Anorexia clawing it’s way back inside. Cold, damp and merciless. I couldn’t allow it home again. I reached out to a couple I know and went on to meet my future husband to be. Before you judge- I have had my karma. I nearly lost my daughter as you may know from previous posts.  I had time on my hands. Instead of being a full-time Mom to my daughter, I was a 10 hour per week Mom instead.

I decided while I battled it out in the court arena with social services and my creepy ex I would resume my studies. This time not in a mainstream uni but an online one. I worked my toosh off and today I can say I am a graduate. I couldn’t have done it without the support of my partner and my family.

DON’T JUDGE -if you can help it.  That is a huge lesson I’ve learned. This piece of paper means so much more than the letters printed on it. It is a symbol – a tangible piece that reminds me of how I got to this place where I am today. I’m a bride to be with a gorgeous daughter who will be four in October. I’m working with mental health charities and I am a stable weight- super healthy. I don’t smoke. I drink mostly water ( with the odd cocktail of course) , I exersise. I am a success. I am proud of me. No one can take that from me. I won’t let them. Always be ready to learn a bit more. I may have officially finished learning but I will not let that stop me from learning in other ways. I treat every experience in my life as a learning curve. Always look for the silver lining no matter how bleak.

My Blog is designed like my mind

Scroll down for the answer to this. Or you can read my post and then read the ending. It’s up to you.

Did I prepare-?

meh -not really.

Did I have an idea?

yup -kind of.

Plot?

come again?

Structure?

is there such a thing?

Character well rounded and believable – good and bad traits?

It will come.

Motives?

one small one for now.

Antagonist?

many…

media res?

yup

Show don’t tell – my mantra!

climatic end?

I will sell my soul to the devil…

Title?  

for now ‘Blurred’…

twists and turns?

Aaah yes of course. Twister is an awesome game. A great game to inspire writing,  c’est ne pas?

Shitting myself. I’m still trying to navigate the website

Burning the candle at both ends?

never stopped me before.

I CAN DO THIS! Personal growth never hurt me before so why change a good thing, right?

I write for personal achievement and I write because sometimes I find that words come easier in the written form. I also write because I’ve been told from a young age I should write.

I write because I can. This blog exists because I have a hell of a lot to write about , interests & my mind needs a place to let the dense mass in my mind tumble out & create form & order.

Self care-

“Who says nothing is impossible? I’ve been doing nothing for years.” -UNKNOWN

Ha! I love this quote. I very rarely let myself truly chill out and veg. This weekend was the first weekend and time in over a year that I have given my mind and body a true chance to chill and enjoy being in the moment.

Why do we think that what we do is– nothing? not enough?

I look back over the years and, at this moment in time, no, I don’t have a 9-5 job.

However, I have been working harder than I would, ( I am talking about me here), say if I had been working in a 9-5 job.

I’ve only just realised how important it is to take some time away from my work and what I do.

I love being active and in the last couple weeks-everything, I love to do stopped being fun any more.

 I was even getting stressed out about some of the things I do to wind down, an example is  Blogging. It was having the opposite effect. I  was getting way too grumpy.

I even thought of taking a break from it.

I have just  realised that all  I  needed was  a couple of days to

  • not get too worried about being up to date with my posts

  •  not  work out to my most difficult dance work out session

  •   not only seeming to eat bloody fruit until the wedding.

  •  not having to be the most awesome .. insert title here……

  •  not worry an have that inner belief that  I can give my all in whatever I have going on next week.

It’s Sunday and I woke up at 10. It does help to have a Bella Bee free night.

I didn’t wake up at 5 am to start blogging and reading blogs. I know I can do that later on today and this week and next week and the week after that.

Here is the philosophical bit.

I don’t know if it is age but my mental state is finally starting to shift.

I have my goals but I have finally started to stop trying to prove to people that they have to like me or what I do or say or write.

I care about a lot of people and support many people here and in my “real life” but I  now know I don’t need their approval.

Not all people will get me or you.

Don’t take it to heart.

No, seriously,

Usually, if someone seems to ignore you, is hostile,  is not consistent with how they treat you. If you are always left feeling drained or uncomfortable and generally bummed out around certain people.

99% of the time, it is not something you need to figure out.

It is usually all about what that person has going on in their head.

People who judge and are critical to others, try and target the people who are themselves and who are 100% genuine and happy with what they are doing and where they are going. Haters try to make you question if you are good enough with what you do or have. They never give you anything but a serious doubt in your abilities.

Usually, whatever seems like a reflection on you and who you are and how you are –  isn’t.

I know I am the only person who knows myself better than anyone. If I trust my gut instincts, I know how to reign myself in, reflect on my own judgements and check out what is going on with me.

Not everyone is comfortable with the fact I don’t hide certain ‘”skeletons”  of my life in an overflowing wardrobe, that I  supposedly should be ashamed to share.

My thinking is  – I share them because I fucking got over them.

If you don’t like that I am not all caught up in an eternal self- mind fuckery, that is your problem, not mine.

I and you. We all have a life to live.

There is a great life out there to see and experience. We need to take time to chill and do our own thing.  Even if it seems like we are doing nothing. We are usually doing a lot.

I am convinced that all the things I have lined up for this next week -will be tackled with 100% passion and commitment.

I’m feeling fresh, energised (amazing what a few haribos can do)

That’s it from me.

Daisy  ❤

 

 

Hermit hymn

*To be revised*

 

I write about the hermit man

He often takes me by the hand.

Lost to gravity a  fan falls

The same one I use to navigate the wind.

 

Pushed me forwards never touching my body.

Motivated a will to resurrect forgotten seeds of hope

Planted for days when there are more downs than ups.

 

This son of a mother pulled out the brazen sun – shed the waning Luna

Roused the Apollo within

  stumbled about -gaze upwards  until

 in sight caught winged creatures

Caught a glimpse of the emotion of flying free.

 

The knowledge found  in a bare, withered  tree

Stem cell life.

 Presumed  the creature lived in my shadow

Turns out  it  had a growth spurt in

An external effort to shirk off the title of the saviour’s chosen one.

He who wears the hallow

Crucified by the unsynchronised dubbed over mouths

Pitched sounds out a  smoke effect bellow.

Can I get a score?

 

Few get to see his fallen wings

Unless preparation  sees an alternative

look to familiar skin.

 

That ole devil called love

Billie holiday thanks for the speckled dove.

 

Highs & lows

hi’s and by’es

 

High light

 at what remains

A pint of Bitter froth decomposed lost in the train of thoughts.

How the sun shine when it comes out.

blossom in spite of mood.

 

Life

you

I

we

Aren’t  vapid merely  short-sighted when  grey-bearded clouds appear

stubbled by  the  5 o clock shadow

 

Stunted by  growth paradigm

tuned into that dark cosmos we know is responsible for feeling so dim.

A connection to a  reflection of original purity to contrast moments we believe we don’t deserve to move forward.

Clandestine cloaks conceal our original sin.

 

This ongoing duet I sing with a feminine hymn

scintillates my belly until I feel the fire lit again from within.

 

Just a few words

 

Art of Protest

I’m no academic poet.

Talk  to me about about syllables, haikus – to be honest,  I can only hear the blood rushing to my head.

I started doing stream of consciousnesss posts in 2016. I’ve received positive feedback on here, and now I want to step up my game.

Just for fun, the social aspect and it’s a different way to express myself.

So, I did what I do best.

Wing it!

I went to the  poetry workshop, everyone seemed to know what they were doing except me!

 I went with my heart, my  emotions and willingness to try out new approaches, in tackling poetry for live performance.

It was a cool workshop – delivered  by a well established,British  poet – Matt Abott –

check out his bio HERE 

A  collaboration with  DREAM TIME COLLECTIVE. 

ART OF PROTEST

We went through a series of activities with the idea to have some form of a draft by the end of the  2 hour  workshop

The theme was political poetry.

Each participant chose a theme that they felt passionately about. I chose ‘Animal rights/cruelty. ‘

I got so much out of a two hour workshop that I’m going to share what I did.

Once we had chosen our theme/subject

we had to ask ourselves three questions

  • Who does it  affect?

  • How does it affect me?

  • Why is it important to me or to the world?

A Couple of notes I made:

  • It affects animals, people, ocean, planet

  • I’m a lover of animals, I don’t believe that we need to eat meat, or wear clothes or makeup made up of animal derivatives. Because of my knowledge of what animals go through to become a consumer product. I feel it  is unethical.

  • I have my own view of animals. I admire  how they are able to evolve and adapt, in a way, that doesn’t  have a negative impact on the planet .This shows me that humans could learn something from nature, instead of destroying our home.

2. What Matt stressed is:   that if we want our poetry to make an impact writing it to perform , we need a motive, a call of action, an agenda.

  • Who am I  delivering this message to?

  • What do I want to achieve?

Examples: Do I want to shock people, encourage people to look at solutions to the problem etc..

3)

Imagine a room( keeping in mind what your subject is) and put 5 points/Images using ‘show and tell’ language to come with up with  strong words.

Example:

  • tearing of flesh

  • frothing at the mouth

  • cramped

  • squealing

  • gunshots

  • insidious laughter

4)  Objective.

Place the victim/s in that room.

What are they doing ?

How do they feel?

Example:

I had two victims. I imagined a gorilla coming round from another bout of being sedated by electrocution. He was wearing garish make up – heavily made up blue eyes and bold, blood colour red lipstick.

My other victim was human – a female who happened to be dressed up in chicken outfit or as a bird. She had a morbid fascination finding herself in this  surreal room with this clearly broken ,macabre gorilla.

Next we had place ourselves in that room -observing what was going on

Example:

Horror, what do I do? , retaliate or fight or freeze. I was frozen on the spot. Upon reflection, this  is how most of society reacts to topics that make them uncomfortable. They become apathetic.

Next, we had to place the victim outside of that situation/ROOM . Different surroundings. Aware of what they have witnessed/ or know and how they react in a different setting.

Example:

I chose the female ,costume wearing bird human and put her in a cosmetic store. The emotions that came to me were  conflicting – this victim of societies idea of attaining beauty is thinking ‘ ‘I have a choice’

The next stage was to  put these  ideas into the poetic form.

Make a poem.

 Always keeping in mind what we want the audience or how we want the audience to react.

We were directed to to start to put together a poem of no more than 50 words, or certain amount syllables. The aim was to keep it short.

Keep it punchy.

On topic.

I wrote about  100 words – possibly more.

It’s okay.

Then we had to cut those words in half – 😦

I ended up with 46 words.

This is the  end product .

Carnival time!

Gaze  in the mirror.

Blue sparkled hues 

Red paint 

Blood fondue.

Do I look pretty enough for you?

Tearing of flesh.

Bleached in acid 

Gorilla Art

Reflection never part

Do I look pretty enough for you?

The true freak in this show is 

, indeed YOU.

Daisy Willows/ Natasha Bodley

Times up. Workshop over. Get back to real life  😀

Now, I have another to approach to  poetry when  I write.

Worth it.

Go me!

Have a great weekend!

Buy ding time

So many people watch and talk about those who they under estimate. By all means watch,

And learn.

Maybe you will learn how to deal with one or two of your own issues

A perfectly flawed Daisy Willows

I let us down?

Shadows betrayed with a mere glimpse of a frown.

No words can express the guilt dictatorship governing me

It’s not a cop out. I know right from wrong – I know this plea

Manipulations-sucked into the vortex

Epileptic fits, child crying for a place where dinosaurs indeed exist in the mix.

Buying time while losing our minds.

Insanity led me to insist this was the shortest cut to a state of perpetual eutrophic times

Heart attack — Jack missed his usual target in sundry extrapolation.

Too much — too much — afraid to not have enough-

Threats

once choice I  have  to have an abortion

…..or an abortion.

 

The value of life against a three digit number

is not worth the risk of  another loosing sanity – Look at that temper!

Fuelled by selfish, ridiculous acts in  percussive persuasion.

Sick of hurting the good ones in the pursuit  for a place in time where we are  not struck down by  our own damnation.

Heightened emotions — rouged the face of her grace .

Head  rendered poisoned by the one with the  latex face

Queer sighs — teary eyed.

Worth all this anvil chorus  shrieking out implacable aural instigation

The fear if a god had its grip on me – I would take the whip out on my vice with attempts of self flagellation.

21 days

my soul betrays all sense of balance –

5 years of drudgery for something that has less weight than a heart.

Lost in that maze of procrastination  — buying time — throwing out another seasonal  line.

Fear – it will run out-plans mystify my usual organised self — maturate until all evidence  of ejaculation is collected by its DNA component to outsmart.

Happiness leads to an oasis  dried up well —

See that camel over there?

she’s my final hope for a sip of redemption

Unusual  for a vegan to murder an animal for a quench of innocence-how far I’ve fallen —

two points away from extinction

Madness runs forever in a contortion

Fucked if I know how to talk sense into a cross eyed mass of exhaustion.

Pillage me for I am running low.

All thought out plans left in the bloodied soulless bodies of Russia’s war in winter snow

Front line-I cower-there is no courage in the how I dished out my packable blow

Left in a quiver — screamed by the knock of confrontation at my door

I do. I do I do..

If not for myself but for the one who I look to

amazed-

I observe it as one would in a zoo

Rueful

Meaning to be dutiful

This reflection is the antithesis of beautiful.

How long can love last?

when the tokoloshe is cross examined for its  denied  attempt at buying its time

or trying to convince that biding echoes are indeed in the indefinite past.

 

 

Hope’s unique gravity

I just wanna do my thing.

I don’t wanna hurt nobody or anybody with the way I decide to go.

I’m all heart – Sensitive a subject of the dark arts but in truth, I can’t really stop the blood flow;

coursing through my veins. I don’t need blood clots to interfere with my emotions.

I like to feel.

From time to time, circle crops set up home on my turf – I’d like to say it is an alien probing and feign ignorance, I  can’t deny  the familiar  weight of sentimentality  surgery.

Unforgettably  invasive- it is real.

Paranoid thoughts – tension is all I have set  on my watch dial. I know I have not been Santa’s best girl every time.

Honestly, I do enough good to save me from paying for another crime.

Honest intentions. Soul soft and pure. Warped sense of humor.

Bold, moody, loving ,trusting, overly sensitive cysts congregate into lumps, deciding on the logistics and geometrics, of developing a  cost effective  tumor.

Screams above – Take me – unleash me from the scourge of hell that I find my feet clad in cast  iron.

No one else can cut the chain. Raggle out that last breath.

Breathe life into a place  for the ones who seek redemption in their conceptualized   Zion.

Fighting spirit. Fighting a war. A battle within – Gore – more gore .

I deplore.

I abhor.

Is this really all she has to show for herself  and sell on the haggle market shop floor?

Brecht. Disconnect.

Fayre .Disrepair.

Coquette. Disinfect.

eclair. Declare.

Life takes us down alleys where the shit tide threatens to pass the neckline.

Think quick, Grasshopper – put that cap on backward and move into  a new gear. Time to engage and decline or re-define.

Shattered thoughts. Media social networks taunt.   Pull the plug. I’m  done with the fictitious lives.

Comparisons in a house of distorted mirrors. Insecurity breeds, incubate in these surroundings – glass shatters – contaminating other entities- is how it   thrives.

Worry,

Worry,

about not the friends who are not .

Worry about the ones who  are in ‘yours truly’ life and are what you would call ‘your lot’.

Happiness is not a concept. Dolce and Gabbana shoes heighten the germicidal  sensation of  Dopamine overload syndrome- early onset.

The human touch, the words we use. More lasting splendor than debiting additional  digits from your visa card, in an attempt, to feel less deprived. Wage a bet.

Birthdays are for celebrating –  don’t ignore the day you  not only gasped but grasped your first true breath.

It takes skill to meander through the valleys, hills, low-lying turnstiles, the rabbit holes of seemingly eternal strife.

You have passed by many  costly  troll bridges –  and managed to get away with what is most sacred – your life.

Another day  has passed – look at what you have done not what you have lost.

Focus on your strengths, not your adversaries – no need to subject yourself  to more savage beatings at an unnecessary cost.

No motivation – it’s okay,we all have these moments thinking we have forever lost our precious marbles

Get back on the wheel and break dance – do a wheely – show off that you have emerged from the eye of the storm – scarred but intact .

 Be pleasant,smile  it’s okay you’ve got this .Thank the alert, coast guard marshalls.

Live. Eat. Pray.

or

Give. Beat.Stray.

whatever you do,

always have your say.

 

Truth Terrorism