Tag Archives: fear

If you wanna switch off you could

I threw it away

Not realising I would come to call it my most favoured crown.

Fascinated seeing my self riding waves of the guilt

drowned in salt tears of rumination to the hilt.

letting mom down

all my fam too.

Those who truly love me.

There are but few.

Hot damn! That’s better than cool.

Gave self-destruction a permit to ride out a course of self-flagellation

decorated in sleuth

The truth hit me oops upside of my head

Discombobulated -I saw the truth.

I let myself down

I deduce.

Take me back to my roots.

Be nt over crooked

wrung my hands for people who haven’t left my life

Yet

Anticipate gloom & doom.

allow these drum beats to perform

my body afloat

on cloud nine singing cheerfully to the staying alive tune…

Regrettably, I’m responsible for this present predicament.

There goes a fully armed disorderly platoon.

One setback

folded like that grieving widow.

She had a reason

I still have an abode

I’m not a widow.

I’m down on my knees & up off them almost like it didn’t happen

Stood defiant still feeding an outdated superstition

of other motives

This is my prison.

Trust in people

Risk my heart

Yes, It didn’t go my way

This was a time to not fall apart.

A glimmer of hope I’ll grow strong

again

Make mirth and merriment

not misery & disappointment.

I have only one person to blame.

I disappoint myself over and over again

then Surprise myself by what achievements I continue to create.

How am I to play this next move?

escape to another alternative reality – never to bloom!

Or talk about my feelings -is anyone listening?

Cos they have, what is the problem, strewth?

facing all that ‘I feel fat’ STUFF

Makes me wanna holler hey you, cat, scat!

Look me in the mirror & be proud

of my deeds for seven consecutive weeks.

Nor ask my loves to keep turning another cheek.

I’m ashamed.

I am to blame.

I have to fight

My mother is alright. I mean my mother is right.

This half-hearted escape acts

attempts on my life.

attempts to self-harm

They come & they go.

If I can keep this train of thought

the cravings of self-hate might go

come back

less frequently…

Perhaps I will still hold on to some of my dignity

or become a statistic…

We all end up a statistic one way or another

What statistic do I want to come under?

Now there’s a question to ponder over.

Inner Mic O’pen Dictator

 

Have you ever been away from the open mic/talking public scene? Perhaps you’ve isolated yourself for too long … perhaps you’ve lost confidence?

Perhaps you mention your partial denture to people to ‘break the ice’.

Perhaps you doubt
Perhaps your inner dictator needs to get a few words off its chest, then you start reading a borderline poem about the time you broke up with your husband (in front of your husband & everyone in the audience…EEP!
EEK!

 

 

I believe we all have an inner dictator waiting inside of us to be heard.

3min maximum slots are advised. ūüėÄ

Perhaps you have your say & think it will get easier another day.

Poem to follow…

 

 

 

 

 

Blocked by representation

Two blocks stand in front of me

Prevent me from re writing unforgettable history.

Two  blocks part to reveal

That brazen  character,

It stands in front on me.

Deceive my fatal flaw from completing my true destiny.

Insidious eyes cause a distress call

Warrant to see,

Feel,

Smell,

Breath.

Clamouring hands apply pressure to  the ear

Drums

Detect the sharpening of  feline claws .

Stealth like

So poised

That nightshade

taunts

my dreams-

Haunts my waking hours.

A ruthless Freddie Kruger

Pounces

Veers just out of reach of my tunnel vision.

Scratches out eyeballs

With no need for an applause.

Urine infected chaise longues

For a burial in secret.

Littered skies

Unadorned  eyes.

we live to see the lie.

Despise the gluttonous blocks

Too

For its depiction .

The reflection of its nebulant disguise

 starves all growth

withholding all affection.

 

These two  blocks

they obscure security

Make life seem like a mere deflection.

*Writers block. Write to recover. An unrevised stream of conscious piece. Needs more work write to recover *

Operation clam

Maybe I’m not who I say am.

Maybe I’m too prised shut.

Im certainly not the man

More likened to a clam.

Plenty of fish to test my lack of faith.

Indirect lines

Caught in the net-

Delivering me to an Ill designed fate.

Mate,

Tag me with an aphrodisiac.

Swimming in the theatre room

Hang up my ten phalanges

To ward off the inner crowd.

Grains of sand obscure my funny elbow.

Morose in all affairs

Wander afar from the nudists-

They emulate all my common fears.

They are my foes.

Grains of sand.

A Stormy clap of hands.

Alone in this operation,

The agenda is to make sure I get by on an innuendo.

Fear to be me-

To let the tears show up my negativity.

Look for the silver lining….

Give up?

Be happy or die trying.

This is a message in a bottle

Fish are borderline crying.

In yer face

Illiterate

Poet ,

writer ,

Creativist of my right palm.

Read in between the lines

I’m the maker of my own divine crime.

* My mind has gone blank. I’m struggling to write. A person close to me is in surgery. I’m waiting .Write to recover. Part of the ‘be happy or die trying’ series

The conduct of the fear

Introduction to the function

of life from the conception of conduct.

His caress catches me off guard.

Wanton to stay in his embrace.

Yet my inner scars compel me to flee.

Does he get me?

Does he see my plea?

Forever  etched into my life Р part of  my unforgettable history.

Scared to be loved for fear of the ‘let down’.

Don’t condemn a man to exile without giving him the chance

to make up for past hurts betwixt by fear.

Is its so hard to believe in my inner beauty?

No wonder¬† I can’t fathom if I have something to offer

without waivering.

Constantly wondering if I have what it takes to make me believe in

love.

I am the walking dead caught in a blizzard

Desperately trying to believe warmth lies in the body of another.

Force of drole

*writing to recover-writing to remember who I am. Writing and shrugging off the insults of so-called friends/family

The drole of this world’s a part of my repertoire

 Seek it out

I  observe the stars bluster out a cosmic sigh

Sun ushers in to greet me then says to me high

 

Sunshine deflated-slips behind

Coy eyelashes flicker

An  elusive goodbye

 

Landscape sightings report the sun’s trickery

It can’t ¬†revolve above or ¬†under the ¬†sky.

 

Planet earth is a cookie cut out

flattened into shape

Dictated to ‚ÄĒ its norm of a lay by

infinite  stutters unlace

La Luna

part ways

  left heartbroken

creating ripples across water

Oft blurred.

 wanton to view her beguiling manner this eve

Don’t watch this space

It leaves room for an innuendo

genre style-

budgie budgets cos it’s an indie myna on the fly by

Gutted cos this  reads across as a novice  flatulently  windy

Lost confidence in his nature.

Stole a spirit

it wasn’t even mine

Finale parts the legs of barbie inbreds in-laws.

Cheap cheap

underwear-blatantly reveals the remnants of a hookah   smoky blows

secreting a house ablaze

brush off an ashen doll-

pasteurized

vented as Cindy.

Quality remains third-degree sightless

to the echelons taken over in a hazed quantity;

I think I died.

I have imposter syndrome

These words dictate I’m a genuine illiterate.

Forgive me for attempting to write

I forgot about that critter sitting amongst its fellow mate-the 5 10 midget

Oi ‘Arry Potter quick diversion tactic-start finding the golden ¬† quidditch

DAISY LIFE UPDATE

Life has been and life has not been. I’m still here. No amount of suicide attempts or general mismanagement of my health and life has worked. No grave filled. I’m alive! . I matter. I can. Miss being on here.

Why are you watching this?

The ugly truth about why i haven’t been able to write.

Things became too much for me. All of it and  life, I took a huge overdose and I ended up waking upon a hospital.I became hopeless.

I feel so estranged from life. I am closer to my daughter more than I ever thought possible. Here is me looking glamorous and 1 step away from a hospital bed.

self medicating turned me into going into drug/ medication induced psychosis.

Writing is getting easier. I know that I will not quit my final year of my masters. I am rebuilding our lives and I’m relieved that I threw my ex husband/partner out the house. I don’t care how hard things get- once I lose respect for a person or they don’t walk the talk -my patience runs thin.

I’m focusing on getting back to blogging, my Masters. Writing and getting these feature music artist posts in publish mode.

My daughter was with my Ma when I took the overdose and so in honor of Paul  all those who suffer in silence or are misunderstood to remember that we are all awesome. Some more than others…….

only joking.

There are more videos i took. I think I thought if something good can come out of watching blood pour out my nose and looking and acting not like my usual self.

I’m still adjusting to the fact i’m alive. I’m happy to be with my daughter. Yes, call me what you want.

I’m merely human – no unicorns to be found here. ¬†I’m just doing what I need to to get by.

These are my words ūüėČ

 

 

 

 

 

Sheep on suicide

Where is my mind?

The weed who has every right to reclaim ‚ÄĒ life’s not fair.

I’m back, I’m here.

And a round of applause for me.

I’m reclaiming my life!

 

Life is like tax credits. We have to keep on reclaiming it to make sure we get it.

For one reason only:

This is my life and I care.

 

I’m newly single, separated from the one I thought I ¬†needed.

I didn’t.

I woke up and I  saw my life for what it really is, or was…

If that makes me a hard bitch, emotionless or selfish.

I’ll take every adjective and I’ll mix it in with my next meal.

 

Add an extra portion of muscles and plenty of shellfish.

One life to choose.

Mine or another?

I choose me and my daughter.

Every. Single. Time.

I’m a cheater, I’m a druggie. ¬†I’m crazy. I’m a ‚Ķwhat?¬†

I ain’t got time for your nonsense,

Pack your shit up and get out;

so I can raise my family

to understand

people are entitled to be human.

 

Some people keep on building the same rickety, useless fence over and over and over.

And then die.

If my vices-when activated

render me a misfit of society?

Bah j’en fiche!

Translation –

Whatever! ¬†I don’t value your opinion.

I’m not suicidal.

I’m not a sheep.

I’ve been swimming since I was living in an amniotic sac.

Water baby.

Born and bred.

The water life chose me.

 

Life is not fair ‚ÄĒ don’t be patronizing.¬†

Boy ( you’ll be a man soon)

¬†Listen.I don’t need you or your type.

I sure as hell, don’t want you.

What about all I’ve done for you.¬†

Well, I literally picked you off the street.

Must I go into detail ….

nah, Bro.

 

My issues.

My mind.

I’m dealing with it.

 

I can’t hit¬†a button and go on the rewind.

 

My daughter.

My daughter. 

Her bond to me- is first and foremost.

She’s already living a lie.

One day – I have to explain to her who her biological father is.

Parents walk away every day from their children.

Others do step  up

and do good by them.

Until… abuse and disrespect start again.

 I refuse to have a list of all the men or people she has  had a bond with

or  who has bought her a  birthday or Christmas gift

or who she likes playing with

To deal with.

 

She is 6 years old.

Back off and deal with your own emotions.

Cut the strings.

Grow a ..ahem

Pair of wings.

 

Fly – be ambitious ‚ÄĒ live your life.

You want to be a role model?

Live your life.

Make something.

Anything.

That is the greatest show of love you can bestow on a child.

Show them that-

yes, life is unfair.

 

No one ever said it was easy.

If they did…

Who have you paying or relying on to make it so easy?

Nobody wins a prize for it.

Depending on your religion.

 If you want a prize

go pick one and go with it.

 

We just  gotta keep going on,

Don’t lose sight of that lighthouse.

It will bring us back to shore.

 

I can’t carry another dead weight.

I need to save myself and my child.

I was drowning in all of your shit.

Little boy one, two , three, four and there girlfriends/friends or lack of it and their opinions.

BLAH!

BLAH!

BLAH!

The ones I chose to sleep with, and play a game of common whores.

 

We can all do  chores

We can all be whores.

We can all be bores.

Genderize it. Put it into context.

I look around me and everyone with ‘a stick to throw’ has disappeared.

I’m on my knees.

Thank you! 

New dawn, a new day.

New gossip to come ‚ÄĒ ¬†Lodi Dodi ¬†-there’s some tussle or gossip to come from some other party.

Fodder for the foraging masses.

To keep them brainwashed  or sane  enough

from looking at their own lives and problems.

I don’t owe anyone an explanation,

time,

money,

me!

 

I have nothing against men,

women

people.

 

If  being busy is a sign of vindictiveness

If saying NO – is a sign of vindictiveness-

Throw that hoop on me.

And I’ll hula hoop my way into ‘the vindictive dance award’s category.

What else can you/people throw at me?

 

It hurts more when I’m unstable, high – not using my resources.

When I’m me.

I can take it.

It doesn’t hurt.

MY heart is big

I’m generous,

loving,

funny,

smart-

and …

Increasingly

Selective.

This is my journey, this my life ‚ÄĒ this is where I am at.

Live for yourself.

You are going to be a miserable human living for someone else’s approval.

Trust me, I’ve tried.

I’ve never lied. I have nothing to hide.

I have everything to gain by taking this risk.

To lose my sanity, possibly my child?

That was my Biggest gamble.

 

I was willing to take my own life.

You’re stood there ¬†crying like you are’ the shook one.’

I’ve stepped into reality.

Scraping dog shit off my shoes every day.

 

I’m willing to believe that dog shit is a sign I’m going to receive good news.

I’m willing to believe that ¬†I have what it takes to make it ‚ÄĒ Again.

I’ve gasped my first breath in months. And I look up and I see beauty, ¬†the stars, I see promise.

I’m willing to crawl, walk, hobble, limp.

I see another way-another route.

I’m not saying I never cared about you or him or that.

I probably did.

I probably did -I probably do. That is not where I am at.

It’s not your business who or what I’ve had or had feelings for.

I do not answer you. .

Or you –

Maybe you.

I know who I have to answer to.

I’m not saying I think I think you are a bad person-

I’m saying. ..I’m done with telling myself I am the problem.

 

Pass me more tissues, please.

I am aware of my issues.

I’m not a bad person.

I am intense,

sarcastic,

high maintenance,

fussy, and worth it .

 

My life OR yours?

I’d be certifiable insane if I carried on letting you ‚ÄĒ allow me to take ¬†more attempts on my life.

On a final note.

‘I am an artist and I’m sensitive ¬†about my shit ‘

TECH N9NE

I swear this song has kept me  going-all for the wrong reasons. My warped sense of humour has made this song-my song for  couple a weeks.

 

Wanna know about life?

Honest and upfront are my greatest assets & flaws. 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?   haha

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. ūüėĀ

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 thoughts:

from our conception & birth  into this life

From our first breath – we have started to dig our own grave.

We begin to design the layout 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. ūüėě

Many people decide to choose a saviour either in the form of an icon Рa god, a person, goals Рmoney, 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 Рsome 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 psychobabble terms as the drama triangle.
Most of use tend to flit between three roles -Victim, the dominating in yer face/demanding person or the carer role 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 a blessing, not a curse.

It is when we are faced with our own reflection, with no other help but to rely on our own resources /skills we collect along our journey in life.

Will we know how we will get to the other side or to our end in this human form.

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

Some of us can go out and have a heart attack while having an orgasm. It’s possible

Maybe some of us are unaware 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 -or rather  I Рcan only govern myself and my actions

Choose carefully 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 breath in this life.

We create our own Elysium or heaven or utopia even –

sometimes it’s not what we want or expect-

¬†The truth is 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 waves crash.

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 because I¬†can have a go at someone when “they” ūüėČ 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 philosophizing about how to find our purpose i. life- it needs to be lived – consciously and with purpose.

We can live with a purpose not knowing if that purpose is “right “and we can live consciously and not know what our purpose is.

 Our  Past experiences can help us figure out what tools  or resources we need to use if/when  we consciously realise

Perhaps ¬†I’ve hit the bottom of my pit

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

We wonder  how we can or even if we  can

find strength & savviness to crawl up  & out of it to a  stable Terre ferme place.
We may  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 inside 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 ūüėā

It’s our personal responsibility to find (in our finite existence)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 Рmost of us never get to that point.  Sucks to be us.

I don’t fully¬†believe reincarnation but I am aware that it makes sense our essence/ energy will go someplace else.

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 to balance

boundaries are constantly changing with where we are in our lives, emotionally, physically & mentally.

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 ūüėā

It can be easier to choose to not see the bigger plan – this idea that, yes we govern ourselves and we must govern our selves and own our actions and our lives.

We must practice being aware that every action /choice/thought we make – has that butterfly effect –

we cause the ripples of life.  We are made up of molecules & atoms. Ie energy

Science has come up with  terminology -that can  help us understand our position in this world, we make up , what and how much we are capable

How much responsibility we all have.

We are tiny specks in the universe however just one body made up of molecules has a direct consequence on those around us, our environment – one choice word or action could help balance our life conversely it can cause it to topple over.

We have nature to compare ourselves to РA crystallised example of what happens when we fuck up different ecosystems Рwhen we put element somewhere and take out element B  from somewhere else.
It’s trial and error.

We repeat – the cycle continues.

I think that the fear of being alone is a lot scarier than actually being alone

When I am alone by choice or because People forget me. I decide

I choose to swim and come up for air.

I realised 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 mammalian unable to grow wings or a tail to adapt to my surroundings.

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 want to need anyone. My desire is I want people because of the love & joy they bring to my life.

¬†That’s it.

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

pycho phantic heathen

Write to recover is what I always say.

I’ve discovered,

Is ¬†few of my words ¬†leave me whirling with ¬†– I’m proud to park, ¬†pay and display.

Deals are made,

devils I summon.

People are abused, Charity leaps to a new order of Coven.

I write this way, with careless affray

to not lose a sense that words are tangible,

if  I work my fingers to imprint my genetic copyright

Confirming my DNA.

Some might say,

I try too hard

To write for better days .

Left to my own devices. I would live in clouds wrapped up in  grey hues-

a cemetery for all the left over  fillings

Thrown away, because of corrosive mouth decay.

In yer face!

Borderline – on the rocks.

I write to prove I’m far removed from serving ¬†more time, in a straight jacket in New ¬†Jack City.

Gangsters running around with silver bullet signed glocks.

I’v’e spent my better days basking in ¬†previous glory .

Like butter it melts away the fear  of sleeping dormant .

One wrong box and I’d have been mistaken for a Tory.

Liberal with my words, eager to serve and love all my friends with creative pulses .

Tic tacs, I guzzle-colours textured in obscure.

I fight these escapism ,  inauthentic, paradise bomber  impulses;

To get high with ‚ÄĒ to lose track of time.

To think

I need a  potion of artificial wired, chemistry alternatives.

Usually these act as a placebo.

Serve to knock off my crown of  free willed determinism.

Courage lives in a mane,

a city  near Massachusetts

Puritans might discover I’m Freud in a ghostly slip.

I’ll be hung ,

Hands lie limp by my side.

Bled feathers  will tickle  the crowd-

Show I  bluffed my way into the inner circle of creatives who have a grasp of the

same

sane

 mundane

chain.

Heads up!

Forever chasing  the dragon of stream  of consciousness .

My thoughts fail me,

I’m beginning to think,

I’ve become presumptuous.

The kindness in others ¬†words ‚ÄĒ to allay my anxieties,

Overwhelms me .

I tie my own tubes.

Disgraced.

I refuse to give birth to a dancer  with stubs for toes, phalanges pimped out to strike a  quivering echo-like ,   Margot  Fontaine pose.

Inner fear corroborate with the sinner without a legitimate C.V.

Write nonsense-

The Lakers swan to the crowd

I’m a nutter.

I’d ¬† crack a prince just to see a picture ¬†of ¬†a colourful scene.

Abstract,

Mindful Рin  the lines.

It’s not important.

Just a visual spray of shamanic chakras to impregnate the rainbow-I foresee.

Leprechaun leave my latin beats to breathe.

Mouth the words of soft brie , camembert and  wild boar.

Grant me a baguette ‚ÄĒ ¬† ¬†riddle away, and I’ll gather my thoughts to satisfy thee.

Goddess Luna grants a cycle to merge with my  rites in fertility.

Thoughts exiled to Siberia-paid to be alone.

My government  saves me.

My soul

I will put down-

Though I know I won’t gamble it all away.

I win back my losses

Trust me, I know there is always another day.

Write, write , write.

Each word is a  middle finger at the writers academia  establishment .

I don’t want to be even ¬†almost famous.

I don’t need a book with my name on it.

I blog merely to pour my inner most thoughts out ‚ÄĒ free up my world.

It’s about as poetic as I can get.

How about I insert the word fragrant?

I’m not academic.

My passion is not systemic .

Always in a position to sky dive.

Risks thought about

After I land in the hornets hive.

Stings heal .

It reminds me I feel.

I live by my words ‘cos I’m irksome and caustic within.

I was born walking into  webs of contradiction

and, now,

All I beg is for  is a hint  of credit

For expressing myself in this audacious fashion.

I’m not here to chat ’bout literary success.-

I’m already thinking about my post party dressed as myself-

the bodacious writer ,

Who is in fact a sycophantic heathen.

*INSPIRED BY A COMPLETE MELT DOWN IN MY ABILITY TO WRITE AND FINISH MY MASTERS*

 

The unsensational one dimensionals

 The pain inside me remains the real deal

It’s ¬†a tragedy how I ¬†only cruise on wordpress when I have tears dripping onto the steering wheel.

The journey that promotes me to tap away is always inspired by an ill gotten day.

Deal with the past. It’s too easy to blame.

I swear, I  look forward.

Stand up for where I  go wrong and who I  maim.

Revolving doors of asylum,  inpatient wannabe beauticians.

Incredulous  that  my  own mother

bipolar, institionalised,

beaten by her lovers and suffered her own ills.

Thinks its better to throw me behind the institution with E.C.T.  waves and the  barbed wire.

Jesus had a crown of thorns – aesthetically cruel in their Romanic decisions.

It’s ¬†a loop on a loop.

more drama –

 Every.

Week.

It’s.

Something.

 New.

No.

every week its  the same song coming out in different shade of blue.

This won’t disappear by erasing my face from your mind.

My child is my glory.

You wonder why i can’t take this lying down?

 instead I give you the flamboyant, cussation  sign

 Call the crisis team.

We live in a Theresa May ,Tory sperm infested  government.

I’m not suicidal.

I’m not drinking

I’m not overdosing

 Not taking drugs.

Merely holding myself at a metaphorical  gunpoint.

I want to protect my family from the inner Iago in me.

Deceives and twists all the good my heart seeks to see.

A mighty herculean -blinded by rage.

Numbers  are his torment Рhe looks to  them like riches dripped in gold.

an obssesive compulsive disorder compells him to have less –

It  must be all light  and sage.

Alone , i wake up to the sound of silence.

No daughter to say good bye to ,

 no husband plodding about drinking coffee and watching QI on rinse.

In Africa I would be welcomed for my rise in weight.

I’m not in Africa.

I’m in a mind fed on media, with distorted ideas about what to look like.

Social media , I hate.

Insight is a curse -Ignorance is bliss.

Two weeks away from my deadline.

 Post graduate, Daisy willows , in the Humanities

I ¬†should be riding out to the ocean to collect my sun’s kiss.

I feel like I’m there for everyone- I listen ¬†to their woes.

I jump up and celebrate every time they make a success of their lives.

¬†They shine so bright – I call them my ‘little twinkle toes’.

I know I shouldn’t expect,

then I wouldn’t ‘t get disappointed.

I do,

¬†i do…

I do..

 life.

I keep up appearances until the night terrors pull me out of my bed, torture me under veiled sight.

 Days

 filled with  infected cuts and perceptions line up disjointed.

I’m not the only one who doesn’t have a family!

So, why do you get the hump when i have no other alternative but to call up the family intervention team?

I want my daughter to grow up without these bouts of fits & confusion.

the cycle of poorly managed mental health to skip a generation .

¬†Enough with another ¬†‘daughter following ¬†in her mother’s ¬†steps’ delusion.

There is more to the back lash of her tounge and callous remarks than plain  old wickedness.

We are a narrative of complex emotions bound up, in a body of flesh and bones.

look beyond your eye line fall.

Seek and you  will find a person who is not transparent -less.
Sick of seeking approval from social media one dimensional folk.

Cull the people who can’t see it for what it is.

 Fakery

¬†it’s ¬†beyond a joke.

Cutting down on so called friends.

re catagorise my means to justify making  ethical ends.

 People see right through you

Unless your name is printed in black and white.

The best stars shine and go about unseen,

making wishes of hope seem bright.

Her rage tips over the sides – the current for those who get credit for being generico stereotype.

It’s all hype.

they barely even look alive.

I want justice.

I want the people who make a difference

 to get credit where its due.

I’ve had enough of this ¬†fake bakery .

Diabetic shots brings out the bad assery in me.

I’m done with pretentious folk .

Emotional  vampires who expect.

Because they think they precribe the ideal look.

Its sad, a shame.

Don’t get caught up in the superficial.

Remember, reality goes way past the fantasy of this screen.

Cos we naturally wired to be a human being.

We need to communicate

 reciprocate.

Technology has purpose – it’s not for living life in a kumbaya state.

So many lies,

people all have ties

Issues-

That keep them  reaching out for 39p tissues.

I’m here for authenticity.

Denounce those who I see,

in all their duplicity.

I can’t be good and kind to all that seek attention.

selfish,

marred

 How tragic is this situation?

Goodbye to many of you.

who will never wake from your boggled  eyed fallacy.

I don’t do this out of spite or even maliciously .

I see clearly what and who holds me back.

My sole purpose is to stay on track.

So good bye to some of  those

I’ve met on my path

Good luck with your life and everything that comes with decisions aftermath.

I aint got no more energy for you.

My people, my life needs my attention. Arrears paid up –

Well overdue.

¬†Mini life update 14 days ¬†until I ¬†hand in my End Of Module assessment for year one of my Masters. ūüėõ

I will have a post graduate certificate in the Humanities ūüėõūü§ďūü§ď

I have news….

A director (not name dropping) wants me  to send him my script about the homeless couple.

I don’t think Im going to‚Ķ‚Ķ..

Or maybe I should …..

I don’t know.

I’ve never thought ¬†I was a good enough writer to see my work brought to life.

It”s scary to think that success is possible.

Rejection is normal, but the more I distance myself from the people in my life who made/make me feel shit about myself, and my abilities, and my sense of belonging; the more I  meet  people who see the good in me .

¬†I don’t want to feel like shit around people.

So, I would rather be surrounded by a small number of those who are true and think I’m cool ish ūüėéūüėČ.

Let the rest of world get their claws out in their need for attention, and to be heard.

 Be humble.

Life is a blessing already

One thing is for sure. I will never work for fame. I will always work for justice and what is right.

I’m struggling, but never will I give up or give in.

This heart beats.

These eyes have fire behind them

DAISY
Xxx