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Blanch Guts

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

Heard in

cattle calls

Not time to feed but blanch Guts away to her final slaughter.

Why do I want to change my hues?

Tie Dye?

Or maybe these words are a whitewash of denial or a statement covering up a fat lie.

(May 2019)

How can we help you?

How can we help you? You are loved.

My husband

I’m going to the source of my labelled diagnoses to find a way to answer this question.

Not to look for a reason to blame why I am like  I am, but so I can ask the right questions to help myself get better.

How can we help you?

Okay. The brain goes dead. How I help myself?

Set small goals for the bigger goals  I want to achieve?

What do I want to achieve?

  • A new carpet.

  • I want to clean the blinds,

  • I want to go through my drawers and  Bee’s drawers to organise our space better.

  • We need a new cupboard.

  • I want to get in the festive spirit.

  • Bring the big T.V.  downstairs.

  • I’m worried about Tatiana’s  ( my cat’s) cough.

  • I don’t want to be a FUCK UP!
  • I need to connect more with my mom and family.

 

All achievable unless its a “bad” day.

Write a list to Santa?  ( my inner Santa)

Being self-destructive is tough (sarcasm & truth).

Not as tough as being an 8-year-old child who doesn’t understand why her mother pushes her away. She is also scared to make her cry or hurt my feelings.

 Not as tough as having an endoscopy and no sedation. Having people talk about going for a pint after work while they look at your bowel.

Not as tough as being alone, having a panic attack & waking up in a hospital alone at 87.

I’m so quick to forget about the mermaids tail & a dog that can do anything ticking off Santa’s Christmas list.

I’m so quick to dismiss time.

Or is that just me looking up my own anus again?

Fluent in assholism

.

How can I save my relationships before its too late?

Am I going through the motions as my husband asked?

A firm NO  takes up all the room in my cognitive region.

Before I answer I think again about if I’m just going through the motions…

Today I am going to look up the definition of  ‘going through the motions

PHRASE

If you say that someone is going through the motions, you think they are only saying or doing something because it is expected of them without being interested, enthusiastic, or sympathetic.

Well, of course, I am going through the motions. That is part of the problem.

Get up, eat, clean, sleep, fill my day.

It’s not because I don’t care. I don’t think about the consequences or I forget the pain associated with the consequences.  Or I think about how to get away from feeling a failure in the now.

Note to self: Don’t do things that will make you feel shit about yourself

It’s not that hard to do, Is it?

Maybe I hesitated before answering my husband because I asked myself if the way I am and response makes me a narcissist.

Well, of course, I am. I have spent many years trying to look good, be the thinnest, the most pretty the cleverest etc…

I know I am not & will never be all the above-mentioned thoughts.

What did that mean for me as an adult with Chronic Anorexia?

I don’t take millions of pictures of myself and think I’m better than other people. When I have judged others I try to look at the shitty things I have done or said in my life to humble myself… I am demanding. I can be selfish. I don’t think I am the best. I want to be the best I can be.

Do I live in a fantasy world?

I have done. I do live in a world where I am the object of desire/ importance to get away from who I see in the mirror, who I feel I have become measured by what I have achieved psychically/emotionally/materially. I use sleep as a defence mechanism to not have to deal with the person I am today. My perception of me.

I know what is real and isn’t unless my thoughts about weight and shame invade my inner world.

I have to wake up from my slumber eventually.  Then I convince myself that the only thing that will make me good & empowered is by proving to people I have the money to buy shit that isn’t worth it.

I put a value on what I pay for & how I want it to be packaged.

I don’t feel I need constant praise from others to keep my ego in check. I do feel I need to give myself praise and try & love myself so that I can come across as a person with feelings, warmth & love.

I do struggle to show my emotions. Perhaps its the way my face moves, or because I don’t lie about how I feel or because I’m shit at pretending to be over the moon about something when I am feeling anything but amazing.

When I’m in a toxic phase I guess I do feel that the world should stop for me. It’s unrealistic to think that the world does. I have to check myself. I need to live more outside of my head than in it.

 

I don’t try to exploit people maliciously for my own gain without feeling shame nor the ability to empathise.  I know how manipulative I can be & I have to check myself a lot to try & not be too manipulative. I do sometimes forget how it must feel like to another person to be taken advantage of.

I don’t think I am a person who enjoys belittling others to prop up my own ego. I hate gossip, I can use patronising language & behaviour if I feel threatened. I don’t enjoy making others feel less than I feel.

I want people to be happy & I want people to know that I can be a source of happiness too.

Maybe I am going through the motions but we all do!

If I said: yes, I’m going through the motions

then that would mean that I am a narcissist!

And according to Google: Narcissists can’t love their own children!

What?

I already feel I lack traits that a normal mother gives her child.

Or because of my eating disorder, I have traits of a “vulnerable” narcissist.

If I look indifferent I am also afraid of being abandoned so I try to prepare myself for that moment.

Most of my relationships are unstable -with my mom. daughter partners etc… I can go from having a high opinion of myself to having zero worth in myself in a matter of hours.

I do need to work on my self-image & habits to self-harm.

I have many diagnoses -I need to use what I know about myself to make a positive change.

I want my daughter to love me in 20 years time.

I’m not a child any longer. I want to be better than I am now.

 

Dissecting Freedom

 I’ve been on Facebook and Twitter this morning and came across this status update.

“How can a Utopian exist in a Dystopia ?”

( author of the source has rights to privacy without breaching any rights/ plagiarism)

My answer:

“It can only exist for the minority and the ones at the top. One great way the elite create an illusion of Utopia is by conditioning.”

I get mentioned in a comment with this reply- from the author of the status update

“Maybe I have conjured up a perfect paradise in my mind. A place where there are love peace and happiness. A place where everyone works towards the betterment of everyone else. A place where people go out of there way to help and support each other. An environment where laws are just and true.

A place where truth, honour and justice aspired by all.

A world where equality, brotherhood/sisterhood and fraternity is second nature.

A place where war and the wholesale slaughter and genocide is abhorrent and inconceivable to all the inhabitants of Utopia. T

he Utopian being born in this ideological setting then wakes up one day to find himself or herself trapped inside this present reality of modern-day existenc”

I think: what an idealist- how can I respond? My Brain is doing overtime.

I respond:

That place in your mind is a place in my mind of what I think would be the ‘perfect’ society. I don’t know why we need to suffer and why suffering continues to go on mercilessly.

I see so many FB posts of quotes about wanting to wake people up to what the governments of our world do, how we are slaves, To stand up and unite against all the injustice, the crime of pain. I have got bored with these posts for what is enlightenment without action?

I take small steps to not be so influenced by a world of decay and diseased minds and I am not talking about people with MH issues. We have been conditioned to be ignorant for so long that it has become an automatic default- we go to ignorance because it is exhausting to challenge our perceptions.

I still do it.

If this world we want existed how would we know we are happy? Do suffering and evil have to be a package deal to experience or wish for something better? I don’t know the answer”

What do I think when I re-read these comments? is, what do we as a society symbolise ‘Freedom’ with?

If you can picture the generous extension of France’s ‘Statue of Liberty’ gift to symbolise the centenary of the American war of independence and a symbol of the solidarity of French and the American friendship?

WHAT IS REALLY GOING ON BEHIND THIS SYMBOL OF FREEDOM?

The burning torch is the ultimate emblem of freedom. When I look at this statue and go back to all I have read about it’s the true meaning. I see darkness. I see lies. I see people thinking they are walking around with freedom, to be who they were born to be.

This symbol of fire goes back to Archaic times.

The myth of Prometheus – the Titan who made humans out of clay.

The Titan who went against the Gods and tricked them.

As punishment, the Gods took fire away from the humans and he stole it back and gave it back to the humans. . In occult terms, Prometheus would be associated with the name ‘Satan’ or ‘Lucifer’.

Prometheus-i-told-Zeus

He betrayed the Gods and tempted to elevate humans to God-like status (in the context) of knowledge and free will. I use the term Satan and Lucifer in a metaphorical/philosophical way. He is the symbol of betrayal.

Helena Blavatsky explains in her classic occult work, The Secret Doctrine Volume 2 (page 244) that, “The allegory of Prometheus, who steals the divine fire as to allow men to proceed consciously on the path of spiritual evolution, thus transforming the most perfect of animals on Earth into a potential god, and making him free to take the kingdom of heaven by violence.

Hence also, the curse pronounced by Zeus against Prometheus, and by Jehovah against his ‘rebellious son,’ Satan.”

https://stevenjohnhibbs.wordpress.com/…/the-hidden-meaning…/

I’m don’t want this post to get too complicated. Here is a summary of my opinion of the duplicitous meanings of symbols of Freedom.

Freemasons/Illuminati – members, know the power of using symbols in business and in governments, to manipulate events so that these events go in favour for the select few. Guess who?

Read these quotes by Adam Weishaupt founder of the Illuminati ( he later said that he didn’t mean what he said)

“There must not a single purpose ever come in sight that is ambiguous, and that may betray our aims against religion and the state. One must speak sometimes one way and sometimes another, but so as never to contradict ourselves, and so that, with respect to our true way of thinking, we may be impenetrable.”

“This can be done in no other way but by secret associations, which will by degrees, and in silence, possess themselves of the government of the States, and make use of those means for this purpose.”

“The Order will, for its own sake, and therefore certainly, place every man in that situation in which he can be most effective. The pupils are convinced that the Order will rule the world. Every member, therefore, becomes a ruler.”

(https://stevenjohnhibbs.wordpress.com/…/the-hidden-meaning-…)

Us “commoners” are told that knowledge is power – yet they hide a large portion of that knowledge from us.

We are told:

Freedom is being able to vote democratically.

Freedom is wealth.

Wealth = happiness.

They don’t reveal how they use these symbols to condition us to think we are happy and successful. We are mere slaves and help a very small elite portion of the world’s population live, in an almost utopian life, of their making, creating a dystopia for the rest of us.

Most of us don’t know we are anything but free.

Think back to the decade before the roaring ’20s.

Victorian times – solemn, sombre, emotions in check moderation, void of emotion.

Then, BOOM! The age of decadence arrives.

Diamonds become ‘A girl’s best friend’-worn by all the stars in Hollywood –

The film industry tells them to wear diamonds. Advertise them.

The message: If you love me -you will buy me a diamond because diamonds = wealth and success which makes me feel happy and loved.

When I am happy and loved I am truly free. There is nothing wrong with this statement

This was a well thought out and executed propaganda. The problem with the above statement is we still believe freedom comes from external things. Cast your mind to the slaves mining for diamonds under the watchful eye of the corrupt Congolese Dictatorship. Not so Utopian and free for all after all?

Another symbol comes to mind when I think of Freedom. The dove. Here is a bit of information for you – ever heard of the term Augury?

The definition of augury is the practice of clairvoyance by a prophet or oracle or is a sign or harbinger of things to happen in the future.

An example of augury is a priest explaining a divine act.

An example of an augury might be the flight patterns of birds.

Remember knowledge is power. What greater power is there than predicting the future? There is no mystical bullshit – governments and people who have their own interests at heart, use the symbol of a Dove to signal that the future holds peace and love.

It is an Aldous Huxley -brave new world, brainwashing, narcotic to numb us.

Subdue us.

All is well with the world.

It isn’t.

I could go on and on so I will summarise what I have learnt about these symbols of freedom.

In my opinion,

True freedom can only be found within oneself. So far the best answer to coming up with a solution to this problem is denouncing all modern society and live in Nature and become self-sufficient and independent. I don’t see many people willing to give up their mobile phones, flashy cars, collection of fine wines, burn up a bunch of millions of dollars to live a life of true freedom.

A snake has the power to kill yet it can be’ hypnotised’ by a snake charmer…

Does a snake have ears? can it even hear music?

A snake has eyes and responds to what it sees.

What do you see and feel when you see the word FREEDOM?

Shrouded Sun Screen

*photo credit Francesca Woodman, Space2, Providence, Rhode Island, 1977, © George and Betty Woodman*

‘Always wear sunscreen’ – comes from a song.

Wisest life advice I’ve ever heard?

‘Don’t read beauty magazines they will only make you feel ugly. ‘

Quoting like I’m toting.

Screens -Scenes. Teams. Streams.

Rhyme it out until I get an inspiration to scream.

I Love screens. What to watch?

 I never wore sunscreen.

I went under the artificial tan beams when I hit the isle of  Blighty.

Cancer, I probably have.

The world is full of it. Boasting in its insidious arrogant fashion.

We can’t slip away from this malady.

Life is a parody.

Stage screens. Projections. People hustling and bustling about in the form of shadows.

Cue: Audio – people chattering, laughing, Christmas jingles pop out like a pack of Pringles.

‘Once you pop you can’t stop’

Stream of consciousness interrupted by my very own human Bee.

How you doing ? – A total Joey from the series ‘friends’.

Beware of enemies posing as your bros and sisters. Cut out cardboard fake, one-dimensional pranksters

inanimate.

Politics have got me in the corner of a boxing ring, cutting teeth on my mouthguard.

Betray my thoughts and beliefs when I mention the pantomime that is crawling underneath the flesh of America’s skin.

I don’t want to share any posts on this farce. Spread more hate and give more time to something that makes me want to spew my guts out.

Angry on behalf of all that is left of humanity.

The stupidity line is growing longer than the start of the poverty sign.

One screen dividing the people and oh wait they are all in the same queue.

Branded – I can’t stand it.

Fuck Kim K and K west and all the KKK’s and the rest of the Hollywood bandit Muppet crew in folly land with extra zest.

All lives matter. Seriously?

I’m about ready to pack my bag with the bare necessities. Head out to the jungle and live life with my true fellow earthlings.

If I could grow fur, I wouldn’t need sunscreen.

What the hell are we humans even doing here when we can’t even adapt or evolve in our natural surroundings?

Destroy, conquer, divide- it’s a woeful stuttering thought.

Soon we will be paying for the air we breathe.

“Water is not a basic human right” Just a thought from Nestle.

Stop polluting what was given to us.

Stop changing the screen to the scenery you want the commoners to see.

We are dying.

Hairdresser fed up of listening to other people moan. She applies for a job to treat people in a morgue.

Silence.

Now you listen to me!

We all need to talk even if it is behind a screen – a mask.

I’d rather bleed from my eyes than cover my true feelings, opinions, and thoughts.

People can laugh. I don’t care.

Scan my soul  and I will pass every scripture criteria to go to anyone of your chosen heavens.

Arrogant?

Perhaps.

I reflect what I see in others. We are but mirrors of another.

Despise me?    Something inside me resonates with you. What are you hiding?

Drawn to me?    remove the smokescreen – brave soldier-admits and refuses to deny that we all share common dreams,

feel similar emotions.

Have days when it’s all commotion after commotion.

I scream – a throwback to the bairn I never intended to wean.

Heartless – that would mean I am aimless.

I’ve had my eye on a spot. That takes more heart and commitment than spouting out hateful, denounced rhetoric.

Chloridic.

Grief- ridden, sick chick.

She should have grabbed the knife.

She should have locked the door.

She should have put more clothes on.

She should have done the cha- cha- cha.

Would it have saved her?

Polo – life mint- raspy breath in need of sprightly death.

It’s fun to dream. It’s even better to live it.

Wear sunscreen?

Protection –  duty to our children- the ones who love us.

I say be reckless -not with others hearts- but be a part of the movement to dine with the  Ming dynasty, hovering somewhere above, a local art museum, in some loco town down in  Acapulco.

The song I was on about when my thoughts were rambling.

Esther Roe

Charlie met Esther on abortionist row.

Hedges neatly trimmed – enough to dishevel a bearded vagabond to weep after his latest woe.

No coat hangers to gut the newborn sac.
Charlie stood for hours until her number came up.

Raging
rouge screams with a tremulous beep.

Surreal
Conceal
Unable
to strike the star lead role in a Bollywood film deal.

Unsullied arrived in a cumulus cloud stricken by a thunderous compulsion to wail.

Esther didn’t hear the bond lust, lilted scream.
Memory hazed -by two fat ladies at gate number 8.
Efforts disarmed – the inability to count down to the primal odd.

Nebulous chlorophyll masked her mouth. Envy immobilised to an unrecalled dream.

 

Innocents smile swinging on tyres.

Freddie Kruger caught in a static slumberless nightmare  loses credibility to a sterile clinic

Action paralysing every unconscious scene.

Stratham, London. the  Knight defends to keep watch.

Both stumble upon a tidy little room – 1970’s style. No disco defibrillator harmonizing jolts to the melody of

‘ Staying alive ‘

Old granny hoovers up flowers choking on an ivy patterned carpet.

Mist of lavender lingers.

This bitch knows how to spray.

Don’t mess with this O.G.

Peppered, seasoned hair, non-linear lines carve out a facial narrative.

Don’t be fooled by this kungfu hoe.

Inebriated illiterate desensitized to her strategy in a game of cruel Cluedo.

It’s all so normal. It’s life, you know…..

 

Scissors aimed

ready

to

stab

a beating heart

 

Positioned in foetal

Sucked out the uterus.

 

Pro-choice.

Pro voice.

Pro-life.

Pro midwife.

Tall walls

Bricks bolster the Illusion of affairs in order.

Fiercely scrutinized is the woman who maps out her own destiny – navigates the boundaries that her ideas can afford her.

Quality control.
The NHS paid for a private eye.

Two signatures deemed sufficient to see her through the hours of her sobering silence.

Shameless in her deflowered disguise.

Ginger nuts, unsavoury tufts.

No, this wasn’t her nine month due – no ice cubes for killing in the name of freedom to govern her own vessel.

No need for pro-life Stepford wives lies.

Sins anoint.
Sins accumulate.

Where would our saints stand without a dissident at hand?

Society sits down, protest proudly.
Part the veil of clouds
Peer piously downwards,

ready to strike thunderbolts of judgement.

 

Rain down booming terror tactics.
Esther cares not for their gospel band.
Society sips, exhaling wafts of fair trade Ivory coast coffee beans.
Privilege smells of a modern holocaust of starving babies in bony mothers arms.

Who said any of these women consented to consummate?
Penetrative obedience to the phallic statues erected in morning glory psalms.

Civilized society!

What if God was one of us?

a scripture in the making.-

Touch and kiss the sky.

Would he become the true reflection we see, when we catch ourselves about to exhale the final breathe before we die?

Fantasies always signed off with a silver lining and promises of a rainbow.

Reality is cold,

winter serves a plateau of ice.
Frigid flowers are frozen in angst
Shatter like glass.
Rebel against their reproductive nature.
Air.
breathe.
One full gasp.

If only a mere raspy rant leaves on its depart.
It’s either them or an urban jungle of homo sapiens collecting another free day ride.

Ready to infect ignorance on every global ocean that has shows we all go out at low tide.

Rebirth!

JUST

ICE.

Everybody’s got to hear the shit on FM willows call!

Stumped hand makes it arduous to know what to write about.

Disambigous immortality

The labyrinth is a Jungian symbol of the unconscious, the journey through the maze stands for the enigma of a discovery of ‘the Self’. This ties in with rituals and myths in which a cave is a symbol for creepy tunnels of exploration for the quest for knowledge or the hope to exit the cave metamorphosed.

The famous writer, Silvia Plath uses the symbol of a cave twice in her poem, Nick and the Candlestick. I was drawn to this poem after when I was working on my final project – an immersive art installation for my foundation degree in Acting Performance.

I didn’t know it’s meaning but I connected with it immediately. It is only in the last few years I’ve done more research into other meanings of her poem and startlingly it is seen as a poem that Sylvia wrote when she was pregnant. The tone of the poem suggests she rejects this baby. Sees it as an invasion of her body.

The cave appears to be a symbol of her womb.

Love, love,

I have hung our CAVE  with roses,

With soft rugs—

This poem partly inspired my final Performance piece when I was doing my Performance acting degree. I had my abortion on the 24/10/2010 & I had less than 2 months to finish my degree. It was a low ebb in my life. I didn’t want to give up so, I used my live art performance to try & make sense of what was happening in my life.

I found this picture whilst browsing on social media. It is a disturbing picture. To me, it appears like the girl is saying: I won’t be silenced. The blood-soaked at the bottom of her dress gave me a feeling of peace.

img_20190325_204206_020661587403.jpg

The entire performance was a result of this picture, my intuition, making connections with other abstract stimuli and ideas that I could link to the original idea.

My aim of the live installation was to strip myself bare (metaphorically)  until people could see the raw, real part that makes up a part of who I am.

I wanted nothing to be hidden ( though I ended up having to adapt my initial idea due to a black eye given to me by an ex. I had to get more creative & I did.

I  felt /was so alone (everyone had turned their back on me but I thought ‘FUCK THE LOT OF THEM-PEERS, TUTORS FAMILY-EVERYONE’ I’m not going to let a black eye shame me not finishing my degree.

I don’t know why I called this project ‘Disambigous Immortality” perhaps I was going through the motions of grief. Perhaps I  was looking for clarity & not to be judged by my peers.

My original idea was to be filmed in a cave or be on a swing in a park, blowing bubbles, dressed in white like the girl with blood on her dress – I suppose I wished to emulate innocence. Blissfully ignorant. That is how I WANTED TO appear to the audience. I had it pre-recorded & I edited it to run on a loop (via a projector) during the performance.

77548_1642266170275_2692189_o

I wanted my space to be set up to mimic a church setting (with candles lit) and I wanted to be kneeling in front of the recording -watching it. This was meant to symbolise myself entrancing into self-actualisation or more likely self- realisation though this is the opposite of how I felt about what I was doing, to be honest.

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The more I researched my ideas, the more fascinated I became with understanding the unconscious reasons for the ideas I used in the performance. Even specific choices such as the fabric I used, colour choice, words etc..

I decided to use blue for the blood and wore a white lace dress I found in a charity shop.

The colour blue, in chines symbolism, represents immortality.

The colour white  (according to Chinese symbolism) symbolises an end to mourning.

The notion of wanting to appear innocent is because I wanted to appear lacking in guilt, and youthful in a blissfully ignorant way often related to youth

I think at the time I was coming to terms with having aborted my son, who would have been called, Nicholas Raven. I wasn’t prepared for the guilt( though I know it was the right thing to do at the time).

I was walking in the park the one day and I came across a blue feather on the ground and it made sense to incorporate blue feathers into my performance.

Nicholas would have born in spring -I told myself at the time that his soul/spirit/energy touched this mortal world in the medium of my body for a few months & then went on to exist on a higher plane -effectively not dead but immortal. That was my perspective at the time.

163744_1623919591904_2604421_n.jpg

I then came across Sylvia Plath’s poem ‘Nick and the candlestick’. -a poem was written when Plath was heavily pregnant. I  initially interpreted the poem as her feeling bloated vessel carrying a parasite. These feelings about her unborn child caused her to became depressed. Though I also understood that while she felt her unborn child sucking the life out of her-she hoped it would be born without her failings.

When I researched what lace meant in symbolism I came across a metaphor that I’ver never forgotten

‘Lace seeks to hide & expose at the same time, like a veil to cover or lingerie to reveal’

I ended up making a mask covered in lace -it was grotesque-ish & the opposite of innocent looking. It did hide my black eye though..

Its reality & it is in the past. I didn’t know I looked so bad at the time. Life moves on. 😀

img_20190325_220915_695494665096.jpg

To be continued with reflections from the night of the performance.

My greatest mistake

If I let you creep under my skin

would you forgive me for wishing myself to die from sin?

If I let you hold tight and folded into your arms

would you forgive me for needing someone to look to for my daily psalms?

If I had you ravage my body in kisses, linger fingertips over my flesh

Would you forgive me when I can’t let go unless under the influence of a narcotic

If I had to be the mother of the year

Would you put me down when I fall from grace

I’m only human

That’s my greatest mistake.

Free cello flotsam

 

I followed a trail

To rock with scurvy emotions inside of me.

Don’t know what to expect.

All the rage, ignorance, silence

bleaches the promise of a future sapling tree.

Astrology says we have a Destiny, and there’s apart

inside

Who revels in the nostalgic quest within me.

Why do I shirk off those who encourage my rays to reflect outwards?

Why do I seek out on my impulses, toxins to detract from my light?

Keep me from growing into a burst of melody  I can shout out to the cowards.

Confidence issues get the best of me

it’s just all about

ME

ME

ME!

But….

It isn’t-it’s also about my husband , my Bella bee.

When I enunciated my vows last June-what a chirrupy day.

I didn’t have a clue what commitment to another meant

That I would be required to stop mid-flight and stay.

Stagnant breathe, I cry out for security

Inside it’s all I’ve needed to explode into full maturity.

I write aplenty about letting go

The rage, the ability to let it stop over analysing my creative flow.

Seeking out what exactly?

Roses thrown at my feet every hour?

In case I forget in my self and believe I am merely dour.

I crave a prism of  connection and escapism.

All I want is to answer my own question.

What is my purpose?

Ignored.

The birds murmur in their usual stanza of cursive.

Have I ever learnt the language of civility?

Emotions  have tripped me over

Countless times.

Surprised to appraise the sky admiringly

I’m chasing after the elusive high

Frequent in multiple forms.

molecules,

atoms

Sometimes a shape  in a human form of fungi 😉

sigh, me and my warped sense of humour

Desperately  trying to prover I need a holiday under my current demeanour.

the rage inside is never  quelled .

I write and I write yet the tears continue to overspill.

Reticent to see what is standing in front of me

I pause,

I look up

and despite the majestic scenery,

I feel the weight of my guilt-dissecting me into bits to use as flotsam at sea.

One small town to the next

Happiness is a state of mind

Not some hidden idealist.

A paradox of uncertainty

Love me.

Need me.

Crave me.

Believe in me-

The true person outside of my physicality.

I’m not stating I’m beautiful or full of grace.

I do believe I am unique .

This is more than a hope or a whim.

I don’t see absolute distaste when I glance at my face.

The simple moments, the words , the memories that won’t hold on.

I have a purpose-some path to walk without feeling triste

Emotional depths descend into an abyss — it ranks.

I adore the ocean , I hate that I need technology to breathe in, and gasp.

I’m not a shipwreck lying on the floor who gave up and sank.

I’ve learnt how to swim and fight,

For what its worth.

What do I want with this life-streaked , woven into nature’s tapestry?

Here, little bird, come closer unlock the coded language that will show this mystery is more than a pyscho spieling diatribe of empty soliloquised solecisms

Dead eyed,

Heart stammers .

 Side by side a pack of soulless zombies.

Merely human

I lost my temper yesterday, let the Anger consume me and took it all  out, one person.

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Did this person deserve to feel the wrath of all the turmoil and pain that has been festering away for years and years ?

No.

There is a part of me who feels a bit guilty for dumping it all on this person.

I hate injustice.

I hate cowardice behavior.

I detest people who say one thing and then do/say  another.

I loathe people who I allow to take advantage of me.

Yes, I know am the only one to allow that to happen and it pisses me off.

I let people who shouldn’t and don’t mean anything to me: get to me.

 

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ENOUGH OF THIS BULLSHIT

 

 

 

I think (for me) I can see how hard I have fought to become the person I am today,then  I have people  around me who don’t even know me well- tell me positive qualities that  they see in me. They don’t have to say these things.

Then, there are certain people  I’ve come across in my life- they all look different yet carry the same traits- who are very quick to point out that I am the one with the problem.

Why do we question people’s motives  who build us up?

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Do I have issues?

Yes.

One of them is being tired of beating myself with another person’s shit sticks

The very people who called me a psycho or crazy or something else are hypocrites – somewhere along the line, I find out just how messed up these people are.

I don’t want then to be unhappy or messed up .

My issue is that they make out that their issues are mine.

No.

I take responsibility for my shit – you take responsibility for yours.

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I am direct, blunt  and an upfront person who wears my heart on my sleeve. I have a lot of love and time to give others and I do allow people to take advantage.

I’m learning, but when I get caught out giving away my energy to those who have never even bothered to respect me or even ask me  how I am or even ask anything about me – my emotions build up , then like a tornado the emotions pick up momentum  until  I can’t contain the wrath I feel.

Anger may be seen  as a useless emotion.

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In general, I am not an angry person.

I just don’t like people who clearly have their own baggage dumping it all on me.

I am sensitive, I am the kind of person who will sit for hours trying to make another person feel better.

These last few months – I allowed myself to get sucked in,  manipulated  into feeling the need for a specific person  to want me.

In hindsight, I think I wanted to show that person who I had become. I went straight back to looking for approval from someone who I didn’t need approval from  to be me.

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I am aware I have my own self-esteem and insecurity issues to work on and I do, every day.

 I refuse to allow people to take the piss anymore and when I realize they have, my fuse burns up – I come at people like a rabid ,gangster dog.

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Possibly ,not the best way to handle a situation because getting angry to the point where I am hurling abuse at someone and doing the exact same thing that person has done to me for however many years or months :is giving my power away.

So, maybe I shouldn’t have said what I said – I am not a person who keeps my mouth shut these days. I have done that for far too long.

I am direct, openly honest , to the point.

Is it fair to expect the same  from others?

Yes and No.

If the person is going to be a part of my life then 100 % absolutely

but

If that person isn’t (as hard as that may be to accept and feel) then I can’t expect these things from a person who may not have these traits or want to give me what I want.

It hurts.

People are going to do what they want to do and so it is always worth reminding ourselves that we too are human and have a bull shit  offload  cutoff threshold  until we act human.  😀

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I’m not going to carry on beating myself over the head.

I am going to carry on reaching out to the people who I feel good around.

I’m going to carry on succeeding and moving on with my life.

I had a rough collision with my past and it played out for far too long.

I had this idea in my mind of who and what this person is and my expectations led me to feel hurt.

 

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THE ONLY TIME TO HAVE ANY EXPECTATIONS

 

 

I’m not expecting anymore:   is my point.

There is responsibility on both parts but I can only take responsibility for my part.

Always question what other people call you and how they treat you before believing you are worthless and they are right.

Remember not to filter out all the good that people tell you about who they think you are.

Look back at all you have achieved.

Look forward to all you are achieving.

To wrap this up – I live by the motto

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I’m the first person to put up my  hand when I have done something wrong but I am also going to tell you when I haven’t done wrong – I’m not going down for a crime I didn’t commit.

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They say all is fair in Love and War……

I guess there are no easy choices nor right or wrong ones but there are choices and I guess that is about as fair as you can get.

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Building bridges

“I’m not a wilting flower. I’m honest, so I pick a lot of fights. I’ve burned a lot of bridges.” Scott Thompson

 

SO WHY THIS QUOTE?

I don’t go around the streets picking fights with everyone.

I don’t go hollering ‘Yo mama is so big……..

I have always been willful and stubborn and not afraid to speak my mind. I then became a teenager and I got bullied emotionally and I became ill and I lost my voice.

Then I found it again!  WOOP!

I have burnt a lot of bridges speaking my mind with certain exes I didn’t have the courage or confidence to speak up when I  split with them. The power of social media came and gave me a chance to speak my mind. There are a few men who won’t let go and just be cool and be friends.  I see that as an issue with them. I am at peace with my past and I have forgiven myself and others.

It is no one person’s fault but I am at that point in my life where I go

” – shit,  man… I’m not holding any grudges. I don’t want to take that bitterness with me.”

I have learned to tone down my bluntness. I remember a time before my Gran had Dementia. She lived a good life until my grandpa passed on with cancer and then we lost our home, diaries, pictures, everything.

We moved from South Africa to France and then the   U.K. to make a new life.

Anyway, that’s a whole other book.

My Gran bought a fake oyster pearl Rolex on-line. She asked me to buy it for her on-line. I was muttering on about politics and slavery and how we are not helping people working in sweatshops, to improve their working conditions and life.

A few weeks later. We were out in town and in her charming French accent. She asked me what I thought of her new Rolex watch.

The first thing I thought,

I said.

“It looks fake!”

Well, to say my Gran was offended was an understatement. I was met with such vehemence. Anyone would have thought I had told her, she smells like the sewerage system in Barcelona.

We had a  bit of a to do. Gran:

How dare you talk to me that way. You have no respect.”

My Ma was trying to get me to apologise and I was standing my ground.

Why must I lie? I have every right, to tell the truth. What has respect got to with my opinions?

No, I didn’t burn my bridges for good. I love my Gran and she loves me -even now that she has Dementia and only sort of knows I  am someone she was close to.

I’ve burnt bridges with family members like my Dad and my uncles.  So many people have turned away. Sometimes it is because I refused to hide my quirks – or my illness and how I coped with life,I was misunderstood and people thought I was being a douche bag.  I have been a bit of a  dick at times.

It happens.

What is the single most important aim for me now?  Today.

Is knowing I can rebuild bridges if I want to.

We all can.

I’ve got the love back and respect back from some of the people who matter to me. I can say I have tried.

If people don’t want to help you reconnect or just acknowledge your differences for peace of mind. That is their problem, not mine or yours.

It’s not worth hold in on to a grudge. It’s  not worth thinking that because you fucked up a lot that you can’t ever go through life not fucking up again

I only recently “fucked up” again,  ( I say this in very loose terms) with some work I am involved in. It was dealt with fairly,

I got to speak my mind.

I came to the conclusion that letting shit go and working with someone or something is far better in my interests than turning my back and walking away. Especially since I have put a lot of effort and passion and hours into this project.

 I  have become that person that puts aside my harsh feelings and I am usually the first person to be happy for peace.

I don’t want drama! I really don’t.

I wish I could let go of my weight and scales issues.  I  should practice what I preach.

I do but when it comes to my Eating disorder…

well, it’s a never-ending bloody soap opera.  There are only so many times you can bring a character back from the dead, right?

Have hope! Bridges can be rebuilt and if not -it says more about you and the type of person you are, to make the effort and the courage it takes to be the person to try and make amends.

Remember, if someone won’t entertain you after you try to make amends.

Move the fuck on.

There is so much more of life to see and wasting it waiting around for someone to like you again or forgive you is a waste of time.

So hold no grudges and move on today!