Punch and Judy -sober edition

 Intolerant society.

We live in a belly fighting off bacteria

Begging other intelligence  to disembowel us.

Before

a tsumanima of hate floods our irrigation system of morals.

No lives matter.

Nazi’s aren’t the only few  crazier than Mercuries  Mad Hatter.

Everyone has an opinion.

Every Judy thinks they are entitled to a Punch – no need to be drunk.

No justice,

infuriating  that we can’t learn violence is a domino effect.

Caues and effect

ripples  from thrown stones.

Balance in humanity

artifially insemitated tinnitus

is the reality.

We  look to archaic verse in the Testament  that

‘ an eye  for an eye’

is as natural as two beasts  being violated while they  are in active fornication.

Instinct and emotions show us we are alive.

We feel, we must feel — we have to feel to carry a vigil of hope

Some divine sign,

god, goddess installed a program of free will.

Divine sign?

Why not take back this privilege?

Why make a world perfect and full of sublime, lure us out with the promise of sunshine?

Caters to the needs of every breather, every ecosystem.

No need for uadulterated theft.

God is a Narcissist.

why would someone with such power sit back and watch us destroy one another?

Fuck the lies, the parables,

Jesus dying for our sins!

His resurrection has risen along with centuries a blasphemeous leaders chanting idolific hymn.

In the name of  ignoratious barkus dogma

Religion – organised to control the masses

Opium now smells of it’s true odour-terrorisim .

Bombs, nuclear weapons, fists connecting with human bodies, unlicenced rifles  blasting into chunks of animals flesh .

Rights?

 Who is right?

This game has found us lost in a maze and the goblins haven’t the eduction to translate to us

cuts to very department,

land.

Division.

Revison .

This prison

Suicide  seems an answer to a man’s motive to rise to heaven and receive a reprisal.

That is a given.

God is a narcissist .

Jesus-is a shoddy carpenter.

Mary Magdelane -the whore,is the only tangible part of this story I find plausible.

Create a world – destroyed by  nations.

Give me a sign!

suffering to this extent is for an entity  pantomime.

Enlightened gods, sit on Mount Olympus ,never miss an episode of  planet earth.

The screen darkens to reveal

another dismal form of the  masses ,  pupils— dilated, babbling  words of   freedom to

freedom to insult ,

freedom to obliterate ,

freedom

to disfigure,

freedom to impregnate,

Freedom to do anything.

A society bloated, heaving up piles of excess.

Anarchy doesn’t mean terrorisation

Revolution is for the mighty of heart.

Ones who wish to see change from inequality for the many in parts.

Race,

Gender,

Sex,

We all deserve to be on the earth offender register

Why do we have laws ?

when we take our grievences into our own hands.

How can there be justice?

-when the justice  fails us with a well practiced  pose of inverted corruption?

Trust in humanity.

Live by your true North, moral compass .

Born in navigation mode,

even if life serves you a sentence of physical deformity;

Don’t look to the sky for an answer.

Don’t look to a man with free words dribbling down his jumper.

Don’t tear down statues that can’t fight back.

There is no sense in joining  hands with this vicious pack

We all have it wrong.

Every. Single. One. Of. Us.

Think the death penalty teaches people to stop being immoral?

Tears cause waves, I’m hiding between the reeds and the coral.

Every face has that stoic  sense of entitlement

Knitted together,from  years of oppressive governments taking our God-given birth sight to see what a plight this  truly is.

We all need to hang.

Hang our heads in shame.

Enough .

Cut out my heart

See it bleed

Let it bleed –

examine the appearance of your own and understand there is no difference –

we come into the world

We all rely on another hand for our first feed.

I’ve always been taught to haver a plan B

I find myself alone ready to denounce my mammalian side and take my chances, swim against the tide of oil sickened oceans,   in one last effort to  truly be free

from;

Not for.

From.

Free from hate,

, free from words spoke with a  lingering scent of horse manure,

I denounce my own and seek a new home on the basis-I don’t recognize my own kind.

I don’t see a common interest,

goal –

all I see is another foe.

I choke on these words.

Why can’t we learn!?

I could go on, but we have unread  history books, in abundance.

Nothing is censored.

The age of enlightmenent has turned into the birth  of disallusionment.

 

 

 

 

Destination Contemplation

Sometimes I feel like why do I bother.

Sometimes I feel like I’ve used up all my bear care

The cities I lived in .

The people I’ve engaged with.

started to stick teo fingers up.

But only to the dickheads.

I dance to these beats cos I rise to the funk masters compilation.

I run for the hills , soul in arms, cos I’m scared of bereaving one beat closer to my final end.

Wasted kindness on friendships. One person knows what goes in my head.

Anxiety takes grip, and I turn on my only friend.

I don’t wanna feel like an unwanted graze.

Take me to a place I love.

Where people don’t talk in haze .

I don’t ever wanna feel like maple honey stuck to a face.

Take me to a place where I can finally come out from the virginal lace.

It’s hard to see the evil in people.

Harder to believe especially those covered treacle.

Atleast, I have a built in shit detector-

this city knows notof me.

My mask falls when the prison doors close.

I don’t ever wanna feel ignored by tramps with tongues for shoes.

Just get me out of this space where my compassion reduces me to tears,

Ignored,

Singing the wrong type of blues.

Under suicide bridge another man lands face down on the ground.

Blood glitters all in an outline and I’ve got scared .

I’ve got to be prepared.

I won’t throw this body away for another

no show.

*song inspired by Red hot Chilli Peppers ‘ under the bridge’

Trigger fish out of water syndrome

It’s been a while since I’ve done a non poetry /stream of consciousness post.

There’s been a shit load going on in the Willows, and every time I think I need to put my thoughts in a post-,life crops up. haha!  Life, damn you!

giphy

Since June  2016 ,I’ve  felt all the positive vibes I usually throw out to the right people shrivel up  into  dead  petals.

The fragrance  of mustard gas  toxins in my mind and body have knocked me out. I’ve tumbled  into a fitful slumber – ignorant to the   natural  effects of the  buzz of Life.

I’ve  become ashamed.

Ashamed because I was finally in the best place I’ve ever been in my life.

And I decided to self sabotage.

Here is the weird logic.

Sometimes, when I feel like creeping back into my comfort zone, I retreat from all the people who  treat me with respect , encourage me to carry on being creative and love me , give me chances to rise and  make a difference in my own life and possibly in others. I become a scorpion in defence and attempt to  sting myself to death.

It’s a primitive response – commanded by his most rational Amygdala.

No chance I’m going to let anyone else crush me. Haha! I will do it myself at my own hands or tail… even.   

Suspicious mind sets in.

giphy1

The thing is my self destructive tail  shrank while I was living life allowing myself to be confident, taking compliments, getting ahead ,  climbing the arduous trek uphill, and finally relishing the view  on top of my own mountain .

I  had already  started the process of  adaptation, in response , to the good fortune I’d made in my life.

Let my guard down.

In fear of being who I have always wanted to be, I fleed with my stumped tail,  roamed the desert and searched  for a medley  of creatures and elements to crush me.

I know this sounds abstract.

I recently went to an open mic night for people in recovery from various addictions, and one girl  came up on stage  and performed a piece about her strange and unusual relationships with toxic people.

It’s almost like a  buzzword. I hear this phrase everywhere’

‘don’t let toxic people into your life

I do get it.

I understand  that I don’t need to be on drugs, or overdosing or starving myself to hurt myself.

sometimes, when I feel self destructive, I seek out people who I think need saving or who can help me escape me or they seek me out. It’s not something I’m aware of until it’s too late.

These people are attracted to me like gravity. Vice versa.

These people become a drug.

There is an allure, a peculiar drive to chase after them. Hang onto every kind word spoken , every sweet gesture.

Then when  they wake from a spell of disallusion- or they feel they have been stirred in the wrong direction,or  an ingredient they needed to feel good about their current situation is added too lightly or heavy handedly; They turn on those they see as weak and prepared to put up with their bullshit.

I liken this behaviour to a rather lethal bad batch of substances or hootch .

I  refuse to walk away,  I guzzle up swigs of insults and snort up the  all the flaws that make up my chemistry.

giphy2

Eventually, they take all their own self loathing, regret, frustrations  and issues and dump it on me.

There is strength and vulnerability in me. I’ve never wanted to build a wall around who I am.

I’m transparent.

I may do shitty things and its no excuse when I say,

I’m always upfront about it.

I always let the people in my life know what’s going on.

Where I am at.

I  tend to do this with people I have just met too. I’ve hid myself for so long. If people can’t get me from the start, then I’d rather know sooner than waste precious time.

It’s not an excuse to do shitty things to other people.

I choose to tell people what I’ve done/doing. Good and bad.

I confess, I usually  have a lot to lose -most of the time.

9472470aa2469ef2d22810e89b602815-depression-suicide-truth-quotes

 I’m blessed to have a small circle of  family and friends who are  ready to take my hand and help me out of the jungle.

Help me leave the ones who are in the thick of it ,simulated  and hanging out with  familiar,  estranged  animals. They are trying to survive.

It’s hard to take a knock. It’s facile to blame others for your setbacks. I’ve done that in my life over and over.

Many times.

It’s only when I decided to make a conscious choice to make peace with my past, and take responsibility for what I do now, have I been able to bounce back quicker from life’s trials and moments of fuckery.

It’s obvious, right?

 Blaming others for how you feel is hardly going to solve your problem ,is it?

I’m full of passion, empathy  and I can be blunt,I do speak my mind  and  I can be a soft touch.

Disastrous in the wrong hands.

It becomes difficult to keep my mouth shut and not  turn the remnants of my poisonous tail  on those who hurt me.

i-am-a-thug-and-i-will-cut-you-prettypussy-9626746

Passion floods through my veins. Bubbles over.I retaliate  especially after seeing someone else’s  imperfect life. After listening to their feelings and ideas and dreams. Reaching out and saying, ‘ I’ll be there for you’ .

These people usually say: I didn’t ask for your help – ( it doesn’t stop them from taking it when it suits them)

It’s hard not to retaliate when family, friends or an acquaintance who  I’ve trusted to divulge so much about myself, in things I trust they won’t use against me, because of our common acknowledgement that we listen, don’t judge and empathise.

I retaliate at hypocrisy and denial.

I retaliate  when a person uses ammo to hurt me and then cries in a murky pond of self pity  at what a scoundrel I am! 

 when I give it back to them- in their language. People dont like being spoken back to  in fluent asshole. It’s usually my last resort.

It takes courage and stupity  to allow another to  hurl a  barrage of abuse at you. This can be subtle- only you know it is abuse because of what it does to your mind and emotions.

To have  someone  not understand how or why or  even care, that  they are poking my underbelly;

To try and  reason with a person who can only see how hurt they are – how what has been said  to them is far worse than what they have said, is frustrating.

Bashing heads  together-over and over. It becomes consuming and frustrating. I just want to record what we have already gone over, press play.

Stuck in a loop. Trying to move forward.

Attack!

Go away. 

Wait, I need you.

Welcome to radio station FM  mixed signal.

In my experience, I’ve met many people who are going through their own shit storm,and instead of looking to fix themselves they will  throw sticks at another’s issues.

Some do try and fix themselves but are surrounded by other toxic people who hold them back.  Their dreams and goals become more obscure and more difficult to make out.

The  other ones caught up in the spiral of habitual self abuse can’t help but bring others down with them.

So,

Why do I feed into these wonderful people who are full of heart  and pointed edges?  I can see they  are clearly awash with troubles.

Why cant I leave them alone?

 the nature of addiction is  compulsive and obsessive.

It’s agonising to know the psychology of toxic people and know what they are doing, feel immoblised and, desperately hanging on to my sense of self. The voice that usually stand ups and says

I won’t take this. I know who I am. 

is replaced by a mouth stitched up in apathy.

A shell of myself holding tightly onto hope.

Its not the person its their behaviour.

Hard to swallow until my passion and sense of justice regurgitates all their abuse, the cold words, the push and pull effect.

It’s hard not to expect people to be on your level- it is worth training your mind and heart to expect little from people.

Especially the people who let their guard down.

Am I the only one who can be around certain people and not feel self conscious?

 Not doubt  my intelligence, ability, my ideas and my very being?

I’m not left questioning  If I am worthy.

Then,

there are the people in full bkoen toxic mode, who will take all the positive energy from you ,and then discard you. It’s because they are   highly  absorbed  in their own life of misery. They know deep down they are better than their current situation. The anger is a reflection of the weaknesses same weaknesses they see in those they use.

 I say:

 don’t hate these people.

Most toxic people have good hearts, and when in a good place (if ever) have a lot of love and time to give to others.

By all means walk away from them, let them push you away.

Yes, sometimes we have to be pushed.

falling-off-the-cliff

Sometimes, we have to put aside the good we can see in them, and realise that they can only help themselves.

I know all this because I have been toxic.

I’ve done all these things.

We can all be toxic.  Always take time to refocus and reflect.

All experiences can help build on your character and teach you important lessons about yourself.

We are all works in progress.

36186390-368-k525336

 

 

 

 

The yo yo man

Girl bets he weren’t always  so plastic.

Fell deep into a pool of eyes that hinted at a heart full of fantastic .

The world is now a bit colder.

Sun shines even a little bolder .

Don’t know why son  pushed away the  great play to his heart when it only allowed   the   room temperature  to stagnate into a cancerous cadaver

now 30 years older.

Harsh cold facts .

Perspective  bound by smaller minds clouded in a haze of toxic, inner house attacks.

Girl weeps to know two doors down

son and mother abuse each other.

We  were all once innocent.

We all grow up  to the reality of life.

We all make mistakes .

Son hides  behind a pointed finger for a cover

to save face from only himself.

 No-one else

 not even the one he now calls his true blood brother.

Girl weeps

 walls whisper inferior

by the son 

 the pedantic,

semantic,

sexist,

passive aggressive

virus carrier.

Girl bets he wasn’t always so plastic.

How many more years is he gonna carry on sucking lemons?

sitting on  a pedestal of empty   cans

spitting out condescending  pips and belittled bits?

A hard,long way to fall

blaming.

Always taking the moral high  ground.

Amongst  the smudges of smugness

girl saw  a glimmer of  his original fantastic.

Lines crossed – militant gas -lighting to the ones on a lost path.

Characters don’t need to be shouted down at.

raise son’s ego so he can live amongst the Olympian Gods;

Temporarily.

Devastation – pride miseducation

can be the  only aftermath.

Girl weeps – reasoned  with her heart – trouble found her passing inappropriate affection.

Misdirected intention.

Hands up.

This time she won’t carry the  burden when she floundered  in son’s manipulation and rejection.

Players play a part.

Games lose all fun when the son only sees  people he can step on

Heighten an evoking,  abstract canvas.

  Draw out a new horizon.

Fickle foe.

A disappointed son

finds he has exhausted all misaligned souls of their energy.

Turns up the abuse and sticks a knife into a beating , drumming heart.

Blood trickles 

overflows the space with shades of reds and blue hues.

Trurh be told.

It’s better to have everything  to lose  and still walk tall with purpose

than to

 live an inebriated lie.

Hoaxing  folk with a demeanour of  nothing to lose.

Eventually,we all have to play our cards.

suffer the consequences of our  enacted desires.

Girl weeps  for the carbon copy spirits

consciously conscious of losing sense of all self .

Grab a hoe

dig for more dirt to throw on  misplaced bodies

 already buried vertically .

son’s light gets  dimmer.

The deities stole their fire back.

Girl  bets he weren’t always so plastic .

Spinning dog – hounding smaller animals with greater  spirits.

Poacher trophy show case

in a house of broken doors,overflowing ashtrays, side way glances.

Specks of dry spit spewed from another night screaming in an accusatory fit.

Close the curtains on the yo yo man – the son that once  shone  vivid, in the coat of arms,  bearing fantastic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Toxic raven nation

Puppet in distress

done  jigging to the maestro player -thinking all can be forgotten with one caress.

Puppet in distress

 dancing  to the bark of wood  to entertain 50 shades of Halifax’s easily ho hummed guest.

Puppet in distress

strings attached by words  signed sincerely yours god bless

puppet in distress

if you truly care then cut the strings and retune to  your idea of finesse

Muppet in a mess

calls upon the one who responds with exotic prowess

Muppet in a mess

commands a court  of clowns.

Here’s a gesture leave this puppet to march to its own goal without making it digress.

Muppet can’t confess

Puppet  forced   to bake an Eaton mess

Lunatic moody spell of loneliness forced  on puppet attempting  to evolve into  a breathing life force.

Heart in full beat .

Victorian smirks  – conceal the lure of lust on heat

Dirt lies on a floor in a heap  in full defeat.

Honest Courage

bare  like the day it conformed to the necessity of sucking its mama’s teat.

Shallow grave digger in demand

Take your boorish rudimentary games on a   scam  time shares camping holiday with  your imaginary friends on reprimand.

one spoon stirrer twat from a council estate –

thinks peaches are organic  when canned.

Humour lost when the smiling mug lost a handle – this  unfortunate series of events was not planned.

Puppet has a grip on reality

Muppet hide or speak with integrity.

Observes the matter of the one  speaking about a raw paw -urban jungle patois.

Allow a Feminist  chancer to equalise the  score.

Voodoo doll pinned  down -preparing for  a hysteria- ectomy.

  Tree pines pins and needle  for  lost comrades hiding away in shadows when its own self belief decided to flee.

Dangled carrots  have less value than the Congo natives begging on bended knee

Understimate the value of one true pulse – a sudden rush of blood to the head.

clear signal you banged egos with the puppet  mans red fire

ignited

well before this species woke up naked in a carnivorous  hermit crab   bed.

Contradictory mixologist – king Loui Armstrong – one of a kind – mans belly not been fed.

Stop expecting organic honey from this flower – she demands  respect- make up your mind – stay or lets leave it with

I’ll  see you in the  wind 

Treason over your feudal system.

cover yourself in  haze of the ghetto inhabitants  blasting out

there goes  another lost soul walking with 

dead.

*Inspired by a chat with  my  hair dresser mate  and ‘I wanna be like you’ Jungle book and life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nah!

Life update

 What a difference 7 days can make!  The only way I know to keep myself out of trouble is to scare the shit out of myself  – ha ha!

Write  to recover and then perform to recover. ;D

I’m moving forward again.

‘Fight the good fight’ as Charles Bukowski said.

Go big or go home.

The video isn’t great quality but I’m. sharing it more to reaffirm to myself that I have just as much to bring and give as the next person.

Something I jotted down last night. I’ver  lived in big cities and   many  small towns in different countries  (maybe some people can relate) and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m done trying to show others (especially people who live in small towns)  I too have my own ideas and share similar interests etc…

It doesn’t mean I’m better or anyone else is better than me  It means I am  who I am and the world is bigger than where I currently live.

I’ve been looking for a genre for the kind of poetry I do. I couldn’t find anything that I fit into. So I introduce ‘in yer face ‘poetry.   Inspired by ‘in yer face’ theatre.  That’s me and that is how I write and I’ve found a niche and I finally feel okay. with not being everyone’s favourite read  or person.  ha ha!

IN YER FACE POETRY –  first coined by me, Daisy Willows  aka Natasha Bodley – taking 100% full credit for it.  ha ha!

 

I’m finally going to take the advice of other people and get something published- not because I want to make loads of money but because it shows me that nothing is impossible.

So far when I’ve  applied thais  mantra to my thoughts and life  -It has worked.

My definition of in yer face poetry 

‘ poetry that is blatant, honest, provocative ,emotional and not pretty or fancy or written to hide reality.

DAISY WILLOWS

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‘ Don’t be disappointed if you get rejected especially if you have made an effort to fit in. Farms are driven by human chains to contain. It’s highly unlikely that an animal bred to serve will accept you , especially if you are an animal who was born in the jungle or the savannah. Adapt , be resourceful and keep your spirit wild and free.

March to the beat that allows you to walk side by side with others, to lead others, be led  or walk alone. Acceptance is but one way you feel secure and shouldn’t be a reason to stay in one place.

Remember those who wander and drift out of their comfort zone will always find kindred souls who get the idea that acceptance can be found in those who know security comes from within. Choose to roam and meet other spirits who remind you why you live life

. Don’t stick around waiting for people to get you or accept you. Keep moving and you will never be far from those who accept your different attitude, culture and traditions.

Embrace the misfits . They are the most intriguing and loyal spirits who will make an effort to teach you their ways and be as eager to understand your ways.’

 

 Daisy willows

The one word summary  to the above is this.

ROSA park

Back on track….  Thanks to those who have been so supportive.

I’m still a newbie at doing open mic but what a great crowd and I’m so honoured to have had a chance to share a space with so many incredibly talented singers, comedians, poets/artists  who welcomed  this blooming weed into their little home and embraced me like a friend who had been away travelling.

Apologies for the poor quality video. Will try and upload a better one but tbh all you see is the back of me ha ha!  Not very exciting.

Still waiting for my MA results but I’m ready for year two!

 

Wanna know about life?

Honest and upfront is what I do best. I’ve avoided blogging too much or connecting over the last few months because I’ve been hiding a lot of guilt and shame –

so I’ve been doing some thinking.

No stream of consciousness or poetry in this post…

Are you still with me?   ha ha

I write for myself first  and I always will.   When I write for an audience I lose my way easily.

Apologies if this is old news to the more evolved spirits reading this. 😁

Daisy has an epiphany.

I’ve been contemplating on the saying ‘dig deep’

 if you decide to use this quote to get you through an experience

Do you  know  why you need to dig deep?

My humble findings are what follows

Because whether  we become aware and conscious, in this life (or not) about my  proposed notion of  the meaning of the ‘dig deep’  quote

(that’s a bit wordy. ha ha)

here it is:

from our very conception into this life

-Our first breathe – we start to dig our  own grave.

We begin to design the lay out of where our  final resting place  or end will be.

It would epic and less stressful if from the moment we are born we knew  what we are  meant to be doing.

Many  people never figure it out or, if they do  its too late to ask them if they have for obvious reasons. 😞

Many  people decide to choose a saviour be it in the form of an icon – a god, a person , goals – money, love, careers, addictions , etc…

We strive to find something to focus  all of our seconds, minutes ,hours and years blatantly meandering about on this planet.

Be careful who you allow to support you – some people are so busy trying to save everyone else,  ( we all do  it at some point) we forget our first honour and duty is to save ourselves and know our own purpose.

It’s known in psycho babble terms as the dramatic triangle.
Most of use tend to flit between these roles depending on the situation we are in ,people we are around   etc.

To digress,

Many of us go on to  have children who rely on us – depend on us to teach them how to navigate their own path – how to create their own resting place – and to be conscious that each action,

each decision they make has a hand in determining how they will die.

Teaching others to rely on themselves is blessing not a curse.

Only when we are  faced with our own reflection and with no other help but our own resources that we have  collected along our journey in life ; will we know how we will get to the other side or to our end in this characteristic form.

Some off us  end up addicted, or come to  our end at the hands of illnesses like cancer or dementia , car accidents etc.

Many of us are not aware that from the moment we are given independent life we are consistently (for better or worse)  building our own coffins .

is it fair that we are not told this from our first breathe ?

I didn’t make up the rules in life or society.

We – I – can only govern myself and my actions.

Be wary who you try to help or who you accept help from.

Don’t get mad when people let you down

they are doing what they need to do – following their own purpose.

Some  people never find out what their purpose is.

Dig deep.

How comfortable and aware of your surrounding do you want to be  when you take your last breathe in this life.

We create our own Elysium  or heaven or utopia even –

sometimes it’s not what we want –

 but we won’t  know until we are swimming against the tide or even hanging ten and riding the wave.

 I do know that I want to be as conscious and aware of my choices ,limits  when the wave crashes .

My personal  chosen Gods have always been  tangible- in the form of fully crystallised human beings -flawed  just like me.

I think I chose human idols to put all my faith in to

 so  that I can have a go at someone  when “they” 😉 let me down. I want to face my own success and disappointments A-sap . Patience /Sabili is not a strength of mine.

 I need to look at a reflection of myself to determine I exist.

it’s not easy to figure out life- there is probably  more evidence for the saying that instead of trying to figure out life- it needs to be lived – consciously and with purpose.

We can live with purpose and not know if that purpose is right and we can live consciously and not know what out purpose is.

hopefully,  with the aid of  our experiences we can decide which of the  tools  or resources we need to use if/when  we have a “I’ve possibly hit the bottom of my pit”.

How do I bypass this mythical minotaur  I’ve read about?

We wonder  how or,

if we  can

or ,

are able to  crawl out  and up out of it to  place where we can find  some  sense of comfort.
We wonder if we have the endurance, courage and motivation to get out of coal mine

Whether it’s worth finding a running brook of water to wash the soot from  the I side out.

The alternative option is that our final resting place will be exactly where we decide to rest – in this case the bottom of a pit  . State the obvious 😂

Only we  can make our ending  a place where  we feel we have done everything in our power tosit amongst the angels or the gods of Olympus or whatever it is we believe in that will take us through from the beginning to the end, where we can  feel at peace with ourselves.

Some of us – most of us never get to that point.  Downerz 😁😁

I don’t know about reincarnation but I am aware.

Society  tells us it’s a selfish idea

‘ look after yourself’.

Human beings are wired to reach out  but how we do that and to know our boundaries and the boundaries of others is tricky and a part of the dance of life- the cha cha

one step forward backwards thing. I’m full of cliches in this post.

It’s scary to know we are ultimately alone – only we can change our selves – our emotions – our ideas – our path.

It’s hard not to resent others or life for making us so capable and resilient.

Damn  you life! How dare you 😂

it’s easier to choose to not see the bigger plan – the idea that yes we govern ourselves and we must govern our selves and own our actions and our lives.

and at the same time understand that every move /choice/thought we make – has that butterfly effect –

we cause the ripples .

science has come up with a terminology -a language to help us understand our position in this world, our make up , what and how much we are capable of – how much responsibility we all have

How significant just one body made up if molecules is :to the rest of planet balancing out or toppling over –

We have nature to compare ourselves to – an example of what happens when we fuck up our ecosystems – when we put element a somewhere  and take out element b from somewhere else.
It’s trial and error.

We repeat – the cycle continues.

The fear of being alone is a lot scarier than actually being alone

When I am alone left to decide -I choose to swim and come up for air.

I remember that I have walked the earth with legs , I’ve flown and seen the world from a bird’s eye perspective.

I’ve also stayed a rather unglamourous amphibian  thinking I’m in a vast sea surrounded by  a fellow  hybrid form of alluring sirens

I choose to live  another day. I don’t know if my choices are right or wrong – time is what it is.

People in my life , of my life

I love you but I don’t need any of you  In the way I have allowed myself to believe I do.

That’s it.

Do i  decide to fight the battle every day or  fall  back into walking state of  slumber