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These are my words

She’s must be  a fraud. Disconnected to this world

a caricature of a  human.


An imposter  civilian of society – a living entity to her dismay incapacited  to disappear

permanently.

always chased  back in this race -the rush

It’s  marathon pace she detests 

Ravenous

Cream crackered

Loafin about

 

The  First in line to devour   the  despo’s discarded crusts.


Her washed out  hat mirrors

Her bottom lip

waxen

Scrutinizing the clouds wafting by.


Human puppets strung up

Wooden  ideals

Generic.

Stereo types

A

Mother

A woman

A lover

A thinker

A doe-or,

A reason to  carry on the charade?

 


Compelled by the  hypnotic pull pulsating with a love song  serenading  the humanity of  heart.

propaganda tree

Random reflections.

We shouldn’t be afraid to reach our full potential in life and blossom. Yet we do. Are we so scared of decay and rot and to be forgotten? 

Seems that way.

We must not fight what and whom we were born to be. 

Why do I have to pick the one tree that I love, over all the other ones, that is only with us briefly?

A blossom tree

 

I wanted to get married under one. There is something so ethereal about them when I see them at the height of their beauty.

Falling petals.

The moment they seem most exquisite is when they are closer to death than life.

I see the beauty in death.

I see the beauty in life.

I researched what the Blossom tree has been used for as a symbol.

In Japan, in world war 2,

It became the symbol of patriotism to the Japanese people.

They too see how fleeting life is. All the more to live it with great deep breaths and with as much gusto and energy as one can.

LIVE!

 

What does piss me off is the propaganda the government spread around beliefs of the blossom tree.

As poetic as it sounds: It is said that people were encouraged to believe that when the souls of warriors died, they came back as blossom flowers.

A lovely notion but this is on a par with Roman rhetoric. It is a manipulation and I hate seeing the words – Nature and manipulation standing together.

But can the two exist without the other?

I think, let flowers live and be what they are.

Let us humans live and be what we are.

Humans with a  heightened awareness of the fragility of life,

are the ones that put the humane inhumaneness.

We don’t need to be any other but ourselves to stand out and be beautiful.

Look how magnificent we look when we coexist with nature.

Appreciate what we have today.

Our beauty in all its manifestations from the second we shine never leaves us -not even in physical death.

Yes.

It does transform.

Transformation is not a bad thing.

Revel in each one.

 

I

Always closer to death but rocking the Wabi-Sabi philosophy.

“Wabi-sabi reminds us that we are all transient beings on this planet—that our bodies, as well as the material world around us, are in the process of returning to dust.

Nature’s cycles of growth, decay, and erosion are embodied in frayed edges, rust, liver spots. Through wabi-sabi, we learn to embrace both the glory and the melancholy found in these marks of passing time.”

http://www.utne.com/mind-and-body/wabi-sabi.aspx

Beautiful because I am withered.

One element of me

  First appearances people see the peak of an iceberg
I’m frosty, aloof and alas, on occasion I am mean.
                                   GRRRRRRR.

If a person wishes to explore more of my make up they’ll find layered depths of frenetic intensity.
I have secrets of a history spanning over decades often feeling I’ve lived for centuries.
Am I immortal?
I’m merely human, don’t you see?

Occasionally, my demeanour melts at the sight of past enemies.
I’ve learned to be durable
Have the strength to endure a life span of over three decades.
An incredible feat, don’t you agree?

When poorly I’m cold
Under the sunshine, I bask in the glory
Honoured to feel;
Honoured to acknowledge I too have victories.

Oft I catch people off guard with bursting shouts, Look at my glee!

Inner confidence harks, Don’t underestimate me!


Many moon cycles left behind in the dark.
Startled by spring to be reborn
Nature is cruel
Thoughts of how can I summon up the will to carry on?

Life drags on a lit cigarette hope rapidly distinguishes
The light I can barely see.


Life stamp me out,
a frazzled repressive voice alien to the world.
This is how I feel!

A weedy, nondescript Daisy,
If it turns a head to the sunshine I bloom into a true flower
radiant; carefree

Wild and untameable.

I was born to be free
I wasn’t born to conform to the expectations of some society.
 

Truth

Tell me what you want to know.

Rainy days included, storms do pass

Under the bridge the homeless huddle around a fire trying not to cause too much trouble.

Together their eyes vacant, some stumble some stutter.

Hoping society will give them a second glance, a second chance.

Words are our mercy

I have to read a few quotes of Oscar Wilde’s 100 page letter to his lover whilst incarcerated in prison for homosexuality called ‘Profundi’ ( read full article at end of post)

A few people I have spoken with about Wilde’s works dislike him.

He wasn’t a sexist. How could he be? He was for civility or equality and many of his musings and poems big up women & make fun at men.He was abhorred by society for being a homosexual.

For loving some one with his entire being.
Most of us may never feel that intensity of love. To love even if your life is at stake, your career – your status takes utter devotion.

Society is cruel,it really is and from reading this post I truly believe that words are our way to freedom. The one thing / people that we are not at mercy to .

Words are our mercy.

Quote Natasha Bodley

A trip to Oxford reading prison is now on my bucket list.

I became so emotional reading parts of it in this article.

One of my favourite parts of his letter Profundi

I want to get to the point when I shall be able to say quite simply, and without affectation that the two great turning-points in my life were when my father sent me to Oxford, and when society sent me to prison. I will not say that prison is the best thing that could have happened to me: for that phrase would savour of too great bitterness towards myself. I would sooner say, or hear it said of me, that I was so typical a child of my age, that in my perversity, and for that perversity’s sake, I turned the good things of my life to evil, and the evil things of my life to good.

What is said, however, by myself or by others, matters little. The important thing, the thing that lies before me, the thing that I have to do, if the brief remainder of my days is not to be maimed, marred, and incomplete, is to absorb into my nature all that has been done to me, to make it part of me, to accept it without complaint, fear, or reluctance. The supreme vice is shallowness. Whatever is realised is right.

[…]

Society, as we have constituted it, will have no place for me, has none to offer; but Nature, whose sweet rains fall on unjust and just alike, will have clefts in the rocks where I may hide, and secret valleys in whose silence I may weep undisturbed. She will hang the night with stars so that I may walk abroad in the darkness without stumbling, and send the wind over my footprints so that none may track me to my hurt: she will cleanse me in great waters, and with bitter herbs make me whole.

BRAIN PICKINGS

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?

Capital gains for an elite aura

Random fandom

Venerable vulnerable

Society disappoints my inner light.

It screeches out a backdraft

 Quell the passion at the lack of incompetence.

 

Respect our traditions and values

Society came and went.

Flew over a universal credit faux pas.

 

Capital gains for an elite aura

Chakra karma paid & displays a tramp with an earnest title.

 

Sir Display Equinox Sonic fox

Sly enough to out weevil the equestrian retriever.

 

Animus archetype

Character sparks a debate seeking clarity.

More insight.

Live for the day (they say)

seize the Monet.

 

Be true to our nature?

Humanities’ fatal flaw.

The world is our stage.

only in hindsight

do we engage in our higher self.

 

It comes with the cycle of age.

Respect to our elders living in a world blinded by ignorance.

Dictating  Hyacinth Bouquets ‘ keeping up appearances’.

 

Failing to honor our  stories

Altering texts to appease the Ego.

Inner Iago

Escapism found in pictures of the anonymous

framed around wisteria fantasies

It screams autonomous

cantering  on beaches in a dark continent

Memories are all we have to keep us on the right side of sanity.

The acquisition of wealth is useless

Where did the mummies end up?

 

Eyes dazzled by coins.

The mystery of life lies in a pyramid.

Inverted by the shape of   our expectations

We let ourselves down.

We became Sellouts

Conforming  to Huxley’s  dystopia

conforming to live out Pret a porter lies

Covet  our true  label

hanged man squints

in contempt

inscriptions fail to authenticate our brand

Our tag

Our blueprint.

Thoughts about Social services & Justice

*First posted 2015

Content: How I got my daughter back-  and issues of control/being out of control

This morning I woke up with a feeling of loss and  a heavy anchor weighing me down. I should have been buzzing. I was three hours away from meeting up with a girl who works with a mental health charity and to work together on a one off workshop to close the stigma between the volunteers and the people they help. Below is all I had to type this morning: warning alert: very woe! woe! woe is me !and not WOW WOW look at me go.  

THIS IS WHAT I MANAGED TO WRITE  YESTERDAY MORNING :

Why do I only see ugly? What is wrong with me.I can’t love my cat or daughter or partner cos I have trouble accepting me? Why is outer beauty so important to have when I see the beauty of people in all their different guises? My heart has been rung out . The salty ness stings increasingly as it courses through my veins. Pumping –you are ugly  you are not good enough.Why now? Why these feelings now? My next challenge — like a bull waiting , snorting – A Red mist descends. Red mist that at the end will be.

  I had writers block I couldn’t think of anything poetic to say. All words seemed shit and I felt shit. 

So let me get real and tell you what is really on my mind My head has been doing 360 degree turns lately like that possessed chick in every movie about hauntings and possession.  Except it has been me not some movie.  My weight has been going up and  up – I have had no control. Even with me eating healthily. The numbers have  kept on  going up. I have been getting a  daily beasting from the  Goddess of hard core exercises -Jillian Michael. No bullshit. No pansy-ing about. No quitting. I am no quitter.Not a sinker. No Titanic. Why is this fucker in my head fucking with me now? I’m finally getting somewhere with myself and what I want to invest all my working time in.

Yup, so I have really been struggling with my mind for a few months Isn’t that crazy? Me wanting to help people who are struggling? I’m struggling.

I had to let go of the figures on the scale. I’ve never done that. How did I  do it?  Well,  I decided  I like eating (yes, Anorexics can like eating)  and I eat healthily  already so, I was not about  to go hungry and become ill again. No, this is my time. I wasn’t going to start taking overdoses to cope with the madness inside me — skewered. Grilling me .It was bedlam in my head. True bedlam.

I stopped weighing myself every day. I CAN’T BELIEVE IT EITHER.  I carried on with 40 minutes of  an intense cardio workout . I didn’t carry on doing 3-4 hour workouts like I have done previously. I did not start monitoring my fluid intake.  In fact I did the opposite and btw  my skin looks the best it ever has. I had to get moving. Get out the house and live.  The critters inside jittering and chattering and  fluttering  chaotically in my mind could carry on.I  carried on with life.

I got out there and I followed through on my next goal. I have my daughter back . I’m already a student with full BA(hons) in Arts and the humanities. I’ve booked our wedding for next year. The one I was never ever going to have. I am finally in a place to help people.

I don’t care if I don’t get paid I’m getting so much back from this.

You know what is even more chaotic than my recent state of mind?  Okay -ready?  The training I have been put on to do, is all stuff I worked out on my own and with my family when social services wanted to put my daughter up for adoption.

Why didn’t they get HOME-START in first?

Or THE FAMILY INTERVENTION TEAM?

How come they didn’t tell me about a 12 week course called called WRAP ( WELLNESS RECOVERY ACTION PLAN)  that helps a person put together a support package if a person’s  health starts to get distressed?

This is not some new concept or specialised training. It’s been going on for years and being taught in prisons and schools today. Why didn’t any of the social workers I know signpost me in these  directions?

I stayed up into   the early hours of the morning for weeks. Researching online to find an answer to convince  social services that I could be a mom and  have times when my mental health isn’t all that cracking.  In my research I came across something called ‘ the circle of protection’ (very Lion king – the zulu bit -you know what I’m on about?) An epiphany or something.

Why had none of these highly qualified social workers, guardians of the court, these professionals but myself thought to put a contingency plan in place?

When my daughter  was put under an interim care order. Obviously, I  attended court. The letter for the court date arrived days after the court hearing. I was lucky that I had my family to give me the heads up. I didn’t know that the  alleged assault charges against me , that had been dropped (because their was no physical evidence to suggest that I shook my 12 week old daughter) was only the beginning of  an incredibly long f*ck*ng journey home. I was like Hercules and his 12 labours.

Back to the morning of 14/12-Confused, in a state of panic-The former manager of social services – I like to call her Miss Hannigan-you know from ‘Annie’ the movie?  I swear she looks and acts like Miss Hannigan – every professional I described her too-could not keep a straight face.

They knew exactly who I was on about. Anyway, so after court, the wooly and rather snivel  cardigan came into view-like a red flag. Her voice was the second thing I noticed ,she sounded like one of Marge’s sisters from the Simpsons.

I was like : Where is my daughter going? You can’t just take her from me!

She spluttered in that voice.  

Stop the drink-stop the shit and sort your life out . I wish she could take her own advice.

I found out about a 12 week group called the  FREEDOM PROJECT that was running in my neck of the woods. In a nutshell it is a 12 weak group that helps women understand why we  enter and stay in abusive relationships. I took Miss Hannigans advice  and self-referred myself to my   LOCAL SUBSTANCE MISUSE TEAM and  I  engaged with a wonderful woman to work out what my drink issues were and how I could manage them. We tried various plans until we  both agreed  that whilst all this was going on, drinking was probably not going to be drunk for the ‘right reasons’.

I went to every mother-baby group I could could go to.

 I could only see my daughter 10  hours per week. I missed 7 contact sessions in 12 months. There was  a local contact centre only 5 minutes up the street from where I lived. I had no problems with anybody in that contact centre. Lots of positive feedback.  The contact worker who had become emotionally involved told us she had been taken off  as  our contact worker. Social services and my ex felt that the contact worker was being biased. It is not my fault that every other person who met him thinks the same thing. Whatever that may be.

A new contact lady comes on the scene. We did not mix well. It happens in life. I can’t love everyone.

Next thing I know and I was now taking  two buses to go and see my child — in a contact centre monitored by cctv like a criminal. This is how the dynamics of our relationship went. If I got on with spending time with my child and didn’t talk much with the contact worker-she said I was being hostile. If I did chat with her-she said I was distracted and not mentally focused on my child.

This contact person has no mental health qualification. Her job  is to collect children from carers/family homes and take them to  a ‘neutral’ meeting/contact centre and to make sure the child or children get back home safely. She is a chuffing human. All her notes ( she was a fan of all the Disney songs — those notes were just as agonising to hear)  were being gurned  into the social workers reports.This is one opinion from someone who was not even qualified. It felt like she was there to prod and provoke a reaction out of me.

I asked the court to authorise  a hair strand test for alcohol and drugs  to be done. The test was only done 7-8 months after my baby was taken into foster care.  It came back negative that I was an alcoholic and drug taker. I am on prescription meds  so that obviously came up.  The non alcoholic levels  of drinking found in my hair proved to them I had drunk alcohol but not at the levels they were making out.From  the period  I decided  to go teetotal the levels had reduced even more.  It all  came back negative.

I was in a very violent and manipulative relationship. This  ahem… man treat me like something he found in the gutter. He warped my mind.  My mental health was exacerbated in that relationship. I dealt with this issue and I don’t want to say more on here out of respect for my daughter. He walked away when he lost control. When my daughter is at an age she can make and formulate her own opinions  that will be the time I decide to give her the information about her paternal father and seek him out and ask him whatever questions she wishes too.

I paid nearly £400 to do a parenting course online because social services stated I could not do a certain group because my ex was attending it and my daughter had to be over 5 years of age.  He got on it because he has two sons under 18. I got my daughter back under a  full care order-on the 28/04/2013 .  She was not even three  years old and all of a sudden I could attend this 12 week government funded parenting course for free. I had THIS IRO ‘professional’ come into my home and threaten me. She tried to wind me up because I made a comment about her not even having met my daughter and she was the person to ratify the adoption plan. She sat on my living room suite and re-iterated that it was her that ratified the adoption plan and still held that view.  If I had a problem with her then I could change  IRO’s.

I looked her straight in the eyes and I said ‘NO, you and me are going to see this through to the end.-It was like something out of a western movie. Eyeballing one another.

‘Yes. we will’, she puffed out her chest and chuckled to her ‘henchman’ .The person she brought with her to intimidate me. What makes me want to poke out her eyehole is at the final LAC review meeting she was hugging me and saying I had taught her something about people with mental health issues and  she realised how ignorant she had been. This woman works with dozens of cases like mine everyday. Mental health is not a new endemic in society. I hope ,you the reader can see why I am ranting at this…

I always say ‘I hold up my hands  I am far from being perfect‘. I would actually like this to be engraved on my grave. I have said the phrase so many times.  The thing is  I put in the effort in and they did not want to own up that they screwed up and I wasn’t what they read on paper and what they thought I would be like. ALL PEOPLE WITH MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES ARE DELUDED RIGHT? HAVE NO SENSE OF REALITY

Here is my point, It didn’t have to go straight to adoption but it was easy for them to place  my innocent  12 week year old child. Blue eyed  with blonde hair and  not soiled and tainted from being ragged around a defunct system.  No behaviour issues. An easy adoption case. They call it ‘twin tracking’

Ha , you should have seen the  guardian’s face when I told her that the chances of my daughter being adopted after being told that mental health issues run in her paternal and or maternal family drops. She was 25% less likely to get adopted.  Oh they loved me. My legal team were ace. I communicated and I asked questions and I researched.

As a volunteer I have a ticket to go to this PARENTING AND MENTAL HEALTH CONFERENCE

I hope a few social workers will be there to learn something about mental health .

I’m not angry. I finally know why I went through all this shit. Now I  can do the professional training and help other people.  I’m not bitter- AM I F*bitter-F*CK? 

 Thank you social services for giving me such a hard time. It has led me to take the actions to   where I am in this new chapter in my life. I am strong and empowered and passionate and every time I have fallen in my life,  I get up.

 Every time.

These other less invasive  helpful  services should  be taken into account and be brought to the attention of a person before they start taking kids off their parents and family without the full facts. I’m not talking about the families where abuse goes on. I’m telling you what I have experienced  There is so much wrong with the system. I’m gonna volunteer my heart out.

Thank  fuck for silver linings.

I not only have my daughter and my partner and my beautiful  family and friends  to live for but I have been given a gift of knowledge and I will be trained to help people who need some support and advice. I must share this knowledge of how I got my baby girl back and how much I have changed and how  exhilarating and terrifying   it is but it is worth the fight. I’m not the only one. There are so many more who are terrified to talk because they feel threatened and bullied by social services.

CHANGE  must happen and I will do anything I can to be a part of that.  If you have read this far. Thank You. Never give up your right to speak . I had a  ‘gagging order’ imposed upon  me when my child was a ward of the courts( This is the law in England) . I don’t anymore and I am well within my legal rights to post this.  I want to use my skills and my creativity in writing and acting to help people remember  how to communicate again and it is a right of theirs to have a voice…

P.S. I still am partial to a cocktail or two  when I’m not looking after my health  for one thing or another-usually for a dress to fit in to  go somewhere.

P.P.S. I have written a stage play inspired by these events with a Brecht like influence. I wrote it for my final end of module assignment for my degree at the Open university and I got a 1st for it.  I might put it up sometime . I might not.

Icke Dreams

Generation of memes and meh.
No to negative – yes to positive,
change the bulbs and glow iridescently, no fear in being one light -solo- informative.
Skulking around caves in the fashion of  Scylla -drinking whirlwind pools of Charybdis
Not her usual Pret a porter a  la mode – turn away from the crowd guffawing Helter-skelter splitting glees.
Did she vote for  UN Born children?
What about those who are already suffering on this earth?
Religious fanatic family members – An atheist for president with a crab claw and a wry, outlook streaked with mirth.
Cut the cord from the past – hold it up -prop yourself up –
cheer yourself on – scream your message into a bottled glass.
Insist on declaring your right to say: I am not who you say.
List- notes, prompt references. You need not -unless these very people are the ones sending funds into your bank account, every payday.
Draw a line across the sand – Peripheral eye view – hawk soaring above a sand dune.
Marathon race – testing survival of the fittest – hottest month in the arid desert – sub-Saharan- month? not that of June.
Mighty ants group as a collective. Never for one moment allowing one obstacle to waiver them from their duty.
Poppies raining down – bloody thumb- well-read. Two-minute silence – she still texts -how dare you not honour the dead.  
Two minutes is not a political thread -laughing my ass off comments chav teeth, who forgot to take his healing muti and shine a light of intelligence into that skull in the head.
Vulnerable -always strong – try and break her down with sticks and stones – rain and the wind.
Horrific people – full of hatred and dark sunken, mercury-filled irises -enough to drive a sheep to self-flagellate and undo himself  – unpicking his very own skin.
Cry for our beloved world. Hear the chimes of a new era.
Revolt. We don’t need heads on a pike – listen to Icke and let’s do this in stages, don’t panic in terror and make another century filled with a book titled the great error.
Existence is futile if we don’t sing and make our voice heard.
Delicate and polite -always touches the heart of an old veteran hobbling in the dark.
Two minutes and then forgotten until another year reaches the pinnacle of its calendar date – aim that dart – hit the mark.
Remember 09/11
Years pass, yet terror still reigns.
Remember year  09/11
Nostradamus escaped on horseback – he never escaped his visions quick enough – did he reach the star north of Devon?
Unearthed relics of Bob Marley preserved in a jam made from  onions and clams.
Ethiopian coffee smells better when one has a fridge full of out of date, uneaten food – leave it for the dishevelled courtesan.
 Too small-minded, to make a leap of faith into the ocean.
Better to feel safe and stay in your  council estate fishbowl – causing waves of drunken commotion
Bid me this moment where I am tempted to salute the majority with a middle finger.
Childlike taunts – sit and swivel – yeah screw you dark Lord of ale so bitter.
This is exactly what the system wants. Nothing –  the same – no change –  it’s too tiring to find the TV remote.
Anarchist holds up two fingers in the name of peace -scowling -punk dragged on skid row.
 God save all Queens!
an attempted coup on her blood – don’t spew constricting germanic denunciations into one’s penetrable throat.
One must not gloat.
Yes to positive – Negative to know.
No, that’s not right we know negative should always be followed with a No.

Euthanasia

Do you know how hard it is to successfully take your own life?

I have been doing it all wrong.

Like most people, I have down it on impulse. Not thinking through the logistics.

If someone is going to take or think about taking their lives here is something to think about:

Drug interactions- do you want death to painful?

This is what I’ve realised I need to take in to account if I want to end my own life.

It needs to be planned

only 1 in 40 planned suicides is successful by overdosing.

Most people when they find the pain of living unbearable, usually try & take their lives on impulse.

And fail. Ive been in that club.

So say I decided to end my own life, how would I want it to go?

  1. I want a painless death -Nembutal is the safest way to a pain-free death. There ar3 many methods
  2. Pick your drug interactions wisely
  3. Consider your Mid lethal dose & tolerance levels to certain medications & drugs, your gender etc..
  4. Check the expiry dates.
  5. Consider drinking alcohol with it – not on an empty stomach -as there is always the chance overdosing on large quantities of tablets can induce vomiting.
  6. Crush all tablets together and aim to drink/consume it all in one small dose
  7. Be in a place where no one can find you.

So it is final.

What I would want from death is no more pain.

There is a website I found in my quest to find purpose and meaning in my life & also to find a way to end it

I’ve delved into courses about the Humanistic approach to life.

The arguments for being pro-euthanasia & how a society can decide that a person’s mental psyche and anguish is not on a par with a terminal illness like cancer or progressive like dementia

We can’t see the inner workings of the mind or the pain a person goes through.

I’m trying to be rational & think of the positives.

I have a daughter and I don’t want her to be like me.

I have always struggled to live in my head, my body.

I’ve forgotten 3 quarters the events I’ve experienced.

I’m angry at the abuse I’ve allowed men to do to me.

I’m angry at the loss of power I gave to others and to things.

My standards have fallen & I am clinging on to an idea of self-respect cos I am worth it yet I don’t present myself that way & how can anyone respect me when I haven’t the ability to come across as eloquent.

I have had talking therapies, hospitalizations, epiphanies & moments where I’ve thrown myself into studies, work etc until I become unwell again.

Why do we have a problem with people who are mentally “incurable”, have no hope, have tried numerous ways to live and the pain is chronic or terminal?

Why can’t we accept that most people who genuinely have thought and planned things through – the pros & cons, belong in a hospital?

It’s easy to want humans to live but not want to take on their problems. It’s far easier to lock people with long-standing illnesses in a hospital.

The problem is that some people will respond to certain treatments & others don’t.

That is the way it is. Only we get to decide if we want to end up dead. Addictions, slow suicide etc.

Some days I feel like I merely exist.

If a person is hell-bent on ending their lives they will find away.

Society needs to get their head around the idea of mental torture and the quality of life for a person who can’t find peace or meaning in it due to pain.

Just a thought.