Always look up

Hola!

‘Always look up wherever you go – those who walk with there eyes to the floor miss out on so much of life’ 

DAISY XOXO

DAISY GOES INTO BUSINESS:

What a palaver!

I spent weeks working on trying to figure out a way to sell my products on a free WordPress template.

A lovely friend of mine suggested – Wix and e -commerce.

I was in entrepreneur, creative business utopia until I had to learn the system …

It’s been challenging. It is still a challenge but I am seeing progress and, I am getting so excited for when we finally go live.

 

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SMALL MOTIVATIONAL REMINDERS 

 

DAISY DOES HER MASTERS:

If you have followed my previous posts on from the start of doing my MA,  you will know it has been an ocean of tidal waves and tsunamis and, high tides and low tides.

These still waters of mine run deep.

My First TMA (tutor marked assignment)   Act one of a stage script about a homeless couple received a CLEAR PASS  of 62%

There were tears, miscommunication, fall outs, despair and I lost confidence in my writing abilities.

TMA 2 ( my second genre -Fiction writing)  I wrote a supernatural piece about a girl who (accidently) commits suicide.

Lat night, my tutor emailed me to say she was having an issue submitting my marks via the online system and she didn’t want me to start worrying, so, she copy and pasted all the feedback and my mark into an email.

She gave me useful and extensive advice on what I propose to write for my EMA ( end of module assignment due in May 2017)

The second act to the homeless couple script.

Eeeeek! 

I do feel more supported, understood, challenged and more confident in achieving what I want to do with my writing for this piece.

Oh, the results for my TMA 2

82%   a HIGH MERIT.

I’m back to the marks I was getting when I was doing my final year of my BA in the Art and humanities.

I need to keep this momentum going. I don’t want to find myself under merit territory again.

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I invest a lot of time in people and the things and causes I dedicate my time to.

 

DAISY DOES VOLUNTEERING:

One thing I have had to put on the back burner is helping to  co-facilitate 12 weeks of WRAP (wellness recovery action plan self-management program) with the EIP   ( early intervention prevention ) team for people diagnosed with at least one episode a psychotic episode

I’m gutted. There were many issues that led me to distance myself from this.

Two being:

Issues of funding and logistics.

I enjoyed meeting up the people I was going to work with. I loved their energy and enthusiasm.

A lot was promised and then not delivered.

 I felt the need to email my colleagues and tell them what I thought about how the course was put together- I was my usual blunt self and not very diplomatic.  Ooops…

I feel that if the NHS ( national health system) in the U.K. expects results from a new therapy or a new way of self-help/lifestyle and illness management program, then scrimping on pounds is not helping promote or inspire that WRAP works.

In the long term WRAP  (run properly) will most likely save the NHS money.

As far as I’m aware- nobody knows what is going on with this current  WRAP workshop. I haven’t fallen out with anyone. I can’t give all my energy into something if everyone doesn’t  have the same vision.

For me, it needs more planning and preparation and I’m not going to be that person who just turns up to volunteer at a workshop to go –

‘Oh look at me, I’m making a difference’ – when I know, in my heart, the results this particular workshop can have on people’s lives if  it is implemented properly.

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I’m currently putting my energy into other charities I work with to see how I can help them.

DAISY GOES TO HER FIRST SESSION AT THE  ACTING PROGRAMME WORKSHOP :

I wasn’t nervous until I got to the place. I arrived early. It was bitterly cold and I hate the cold.

It turned out to be incredible.

We did a few  Actor warm up activities such as being aware of filling the space and being aware of other Actors around us.

We did some improvisation and using our body exercises to convey emotion.  Loads of fun!

What a lovely bunch of people. I am definitely going to the next session next week. We all seem to have common goals and everyone is so unique and interesting.

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UNEXPECTED SURPRISE ALERT:

There is a possibility we may (or may not) put together a little something to perform to students at the university after the 8 weeks.  How awesome is that?

I do try and keep up with you all on here. It has been difficult but the more knowledge and confidence I gain in the above  areas of my life – the more time I will  get to have fun- one being reading blogs and blogging random stuff

DAISY LIFE UPDATE:

 It was my husbands birthday on Valentine’s day. We have a sleigh bed!

hi ho!  hi ho! it’s off to bed I go – ha ha! It’s massive – king size!

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After the mid-term school holidays in February, my Bella – my daughter will be joining Year one ( she is in reception at the moment)  for her reading and writing class.

She has two mates with her who are excelling just like her and she is a bit of a whizz kid at Maths.

DAISY’S MENTAL HEALTH UPDATE:

Long story short. Pushing other people’s buttons to get an honest answer has been difficult -emotionally- to sit with – without trying to avoid the emotions by self-medicating.

I’ve been angry at myself for nearly destroying the best thing  I have in my life- my family – because, I believed ( with help) that someone cared more about me than they actually did.I put a lot of my energy into helping a person when they had a meltdown last year. It all got thrown back in my face.

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I finally know the truth. That is all I ever wanted. Now, it’s time to let sleeping dogs lie.

That’s it – all very boring but it’s all happening

Physically. I’m eating better and I have more energy. I haven’t lost weight which is something that terrifies me equally as putting on weight does.

 

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the transformation of Forlorn

Hash slinger – dilutes 365 days worth of grapes fermenting in a  cave filled with stolen hearts.

Instigator- in need of ingredients  – list ready not fully prepped but all great recipes need parts.

Dark ale, vodka trail – ‘buy get one free’ cocktails.

E- colorants – fry the mind -a far cry from fresh mint and soul mates kiss.

New beginnings left in a brawl of broken communication,

walking all uphill – alone.

Moving target – pray for the deceased – we may miss.

cuckoo birds sling out freestyle, rap, battle war cries,  on a council estate –   beaks pointed and drawn.

Prepared to engage in battle. A  girl walks by she goes by the name forlorn.

Forlorn found her way back home, in the arms of her significant other.

Her mind and heart she gave away freely to another.

Too many grains of sand lost to shell-shock beach.

Too many thoughts and emotions she stewed over.

One potato – made her believe she was smashed enough and that it was her lucky clover.

Magic happens in all forms of manners.

Butterfly wings eats at the table, always gets a slap to the head from  Peppered head chef.

Escapism signs – she drove her mind around the same block clocking  355 days worth of miles. She surpassed the speed of light.

Infinitum.

 There is a harsh ignorance in being deaf.

Cleft palate.

Third world faggot.

Take offense to the fact the one can be cured by a doctor at liberty, the other could be the one who does the operation.

Connections made in hazy chatrooms- friends first?  denied.

 She let her guard go below waist level.

Summer, trees, fresh breeze- no red wine- only a heart jolted into shame and alienation.

Walking into her shift at ‘club unresolved‘, the room filled with patronly feelings.

Ignored, lonely spell caught up with her when she was having her smoke break.

She drew up a new sheet – the rules of this melody could go whichever way they choose.  One little minor grew into a major.

Tchaikovsky in need for  Concerta of this scale.

Lonely spell  – left without decorating the cake.

Allies can be few and far between-    Forlorn can’t take lonely spell with her into every one of her dreams.

Sweet relief falls like crumbs to hungry birds, not enough to satiate every lost soul.

At least Jesus had his merry sunbeams.

One year of Forlorn clenched fists, post sticky notes reminding her to breathe.

Begging for mercy.

Forlorn only wanted Lonely Spell to let her be another  Venusian friend – not some spicy flavored condiment that would only end up in regretful screams.

‘The Let go’   should bring comfort to sweet forlorn.

Weightless -gravity took hold her.

Luckily  Soul mate was quick enough to tie a string around her emaciated form.

His spirit grabbed hold of her – even when bone turned to dust,

disappearing,

 falling apart at the seams.

Forlorn, not for thinking she had lost a missing ingredient.

Forlorn because she never needed a magic ingredient to make her whole- she blinded her own eyes with a blow torch.

Moment of Epiphany.

A Stray Cat only gets to sleep in a babes cradle,

 if a mother forgets to secure the front door behind her- facing  Fallible street -Eastside of the mansion porch.

 

 

 

This little light of mine

I’m a Jedi at laying my heart and mind and soul for all to see in the written or oral form.

This post, I’ve been putting off.

Why?

Self-doubt gremlins.

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Wondering what I’m doing with my life?

My life looks amazing in black and white and pink.

It is amazing!

 Until, I focus on perfecting something to the point where I know that I will never see perfection. It is something I am yet to put a limit on.

I push the goal post of perfection every time I think I’m nearly there.

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I stepped back from blogging, volunteering and doing work in my community to essentially focus on this Masters.

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Not a bad thing.

Since I started out on this particular path, I’ve become over consumed with it. Nothing else exists in my mind but this.

An unhealthy obsession?

Here’s me laying myself bare. No cameras – ha ha! you will be put off for life.

I didn’t think I would be accepted or get help to get on this Masters degree. I  went for my goal like a rabid dog.

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I got what I wanted.  A death wish.

I’m stubborn enough to know how to get what I want. Or,at least what I think I want.

Reassessing the situation in the place I am in now, I’ve realized my reasons for doing this degree is not to write novels or random stage plays or just any genre of fiction.

My main goal has always been to use it as a ‘feather in my cap’,and an added bonus to use it in my C.V. so, that I can continue to work in my community with the people and issues that I am passionate about.

Vulnerable members of our community.

I want to do this in a creative way.

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 Not a let’s go to the doctor and get a script and go to CBT and get in the system.

I started this blog around the time I was doing a 12-week programme called WRAP. (September 2015)

  I wouldn’t shut up about.

 I still don’t.

Then, this summer I was given the opportunity to do an intensive 5-day training course to be a Wrap facilitator.

I worked my ass off. It was rough but I did it. I thought I was losing my mind.

 

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I AM A BELIEVER.

 

 

I write about themes such as homelessness mental health issues, inequality, politics.

I did get a decent mark on my TMA 1 – but most of the comments ( in my humble opinion) are patronizing, insulting, subjective and contradictory  – to not only my own experience, knowledge, and research of stagecraft and the subject I choose to write about.

It was insulting to the people I work with and where I want to establish myself in the future.

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So, on principle, I am still going for a remark.

In order to get a Switzerland reassessment, I have to appeal for a remark to get another assessment.

I’ve stuck up for myself when I felt like hiding away from the life.

I’ve  had my viewpoint heard.

I’m still doing my MA.

I’m already on to the next TMA and I have hit all my deadlines so far. I’m still in the same writer’s forum group I started out in.

I don’t mind feeling uncomfortable. I’ve lived with myself for 35 years.

Others might have a problem. I don’t! Not my issue.

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I am open to learning from my tutor who I am entitled to disagree with and within my rights to question. I might not get an answer 😀

I don’t know this person well enough to make a remark on their character or who they are.

I can only go by the feedback, my work and my ‘come back’ to answers and things I don’t agree with or that I’ve already referenced to back up the decisions I made.

 

Back to re-evaluating where I want to be and where I want to focus my energies.

I’m not going to stop writing or talking about my passions (in a way) that show a true representation of the subject and the people who inspire me to write.

Fuck writing to tick boxes and conform to one person’s idea.

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I’m  enjoying learning.

There’s  a wealth of resources and information that I am picking up with the academic side of writing, reading others work,  reading other writers feedback -this includes the one/people who mark my work.

I’m open minded.

I  believe I can learn something from anyone, anything- doesn’t have to be human.

 My daughter teaches me several things on daily basis. She is 5 years old.

I’ve decided to go with my heart and my passion and get involved in a project that allows me to get creative with others and use   WRAP’s   key core concepts and ethics.

I get to be unconventional. A responsible rebel! EPIC!

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I get to be a part of something that could help others before their issues become diagnosed illnesses in the current model of treatment we rely on to live our lives in as well as a physical and mental state as possible.

My MA is a bonus, in my opinion.

WOW! I get to be creative in my work life, social life and I get to have fun blogging and learning from so many different people.

Someone is getting paid to read my work and mark it!

 True, I am paying them ( MA’s are not cheap)

 I asked to do this degree – knowing full well I put myself up for the role of guinea pig.

Of course, there is going to be teething problems. It’s a learning curve for everyone involved. Students, tutors, the people who fund it.

I’m in it.

I’m committed to doing this first year, on the condition, that I will make it less of a priority to where I have placed it since  I started it in October 2016.

 

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THIS IS MY COMMITMENT FACE. IT TOOK A LOT TO GET TO THIS STATE. DON’T LAUGH. 

 

 

My people – my circle – my family are my priority. Yo dawg, gone all ghetto!  😀

My interests, my passion, what I do on a day to day basis to fulfill myself and bring in some cash is my priority.

Blogging is a priority – I might go under the radar for a bit and miss out on reading some of your posts.

 I’m not going anywhere.

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I don’t do  New years resolutions.

 I prefer to spread my goals out over a longer period than one month.

It does work for me. Less pressure.

Since I’ve realised my priorities , I’m enjoying life again.

Writing, studying, reading.

 I’m so excited and honored to be a part of something I feel so much passion for in my community.

We are all stars.

 I felt as if  I was dying – burning out!

 I found out I’m not.

I just needed to scout around to find a place in the sky that allows me to shine a little more brightly.

EVERYONE SING 😉

‘Twinkle twinkle little star…’

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Of course, it’s awesome to receive praise.

I use it as a self-motivation tool to achieve my goals.

We are all different. We all want different things.

I am no different.

Seems obvious. ha ha!

 I’m  doing what I feel is right for me and my health and the people I surround myself with.  They have to live with me.

That’s it.

Nothing complicated – just plain writing with no fancy flowers around it.

I’m the best decoration I have -I make no apologies for figuring my shit out.

 

Discourse Intercourse

Black sheared sheep – interrupts my sleep flow.

Jumping forwards then backward.

Hit repeat.

He’s part of the clandestine cult thought- process flow.

All beginnings eventually have to come to an ending.

Concerning future alliances- the fork in the path mutates an extra prong.

mind bending.

Altercation.

Allow for the change in shape of an another alternative route.

Cheat decides to look up in dictionary.com what it means to say moot.

Meaning already forgot.

Decision debased on ill-behaved behavior electrifying a footwork track -based on a biracial intercourse toot.

Turn moot into witch doctor Muti, a cure for this malaise oddity may break contact with the shepherd’s compulsive ewe.

Silenced into the next move in the game of life.

Charades,

Chess,

Cluedo .

What is the most Infallible- can do?

Make a fresh start- sell out one pearlised vocation. Many breed the high ground in a scorching sorting hat.

Priorities muddled in an attempt to make a life more longstanding than a welcome mat.

Mathematicians turn up in a state of multiple divided equations.

New lease of life -E=mc^ 2  – it’s all relative – beautification renders an approving look – misread face leads to unresolved complications.

Ratify.

 Sanctify.

Let sleeping dogs lie.

3 am -Hare wakes up to see tortoise break past the time barrier, marathon race. March mad, too young to let his ego sit back -ears push forward in sly.

Morals without a compass, external hard drive.

Clock rings.

time dials erratic – so distant.

Testify to honor all vocations – duty bound to follow the one leading to the most effective change – energy is insistent.

What matters is not to what degree – all frying pans are a sizzle. Take a calculated risk on Heart.

wrenched backward -trust it will not deceive.

Patriotic to the cause of writing until last  breath  ceases – suspended in mid-air -acrobatic chaos,

spectator led into disbelief.

Matter not those who don’t walk the same path.

Respect this life entrant is making a decision on behalf of the majority, swathed- ready to abort the plan.

Whim-sake not the confidence of this indecisive.

 Aim to do better -empath.

Besmirch the elders – radicalize the institutional bonds that bind.

The weight of titanium – Poseidon never lets a nymph stray too far from the seismic mind.

An explosive ending to start off the new year.

Just over 365 days to go.

Dealer?

change this automatic for a  manual stick gear.

 

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LINDA G WORD PROMPT: MOOT -CLICK HERE TO GET INVOLVED

 

 

Necessity bares echo

It’s easy to get caught up in the negative jumble yard sale and pick up everyone’s  discarded trinkets or  junk. Gladly, I’ve handed over my money – my energy and the energy of the  remnants of the previous owner’s objects stain my fingertips.

The swirly parts on my fingertips- the ones that make me one of a kind – mutate into something I am not.

Ghost-like.

” call the Priest -exorcise this impurity.” 

How do we pick up other peoples junk that looks pretty and appealing, without losing our confidence, and faith in who we are and who we have become?

It sounds so clinical to state:

 get a pair of synthetic gloves on and retain your true essence- don’t allow the memories and beliefs of others,to  poison your very own mind.

But, isn’t that artificial ?

I pride myself in baring my soul. Telling it like I see it. Standing up for my beliefs.

I get shot down  many times-  Cry for a bit – tell the world:

“I give up! ”  

Then the boomer rang effect inevitably comes  back around – smashes me in the head with the haunting words  “I give up!” 

I hear this echo .

” Oh no, you don’t.”

 I start counseling this echo – It’s distant from  me, not me.

 I don’t  have to take my  own advice if I have released it into the universe in one exclamation of defeat.

It’s a reverse psychology technique that works its groove on me. The equivalent to some hot guy actually bumping and grinding against me and not pissing me off.

A feat that is almost impossible.

It doesn’t sound like my voice. I can  give the echo advice. I can “big it up”

I can talk to  it into standing up and fighting for its right to be heard and I tell it

“You can evolve from a mere echo – fuck narcissus literally or metaphorically and leave him to it. “

“Let him drown in his reflection – pooled – snookered. chalked – marked . boxed in.”

“Chump.”

When you challenge what others say about you , to you or what they think of you – you may come across as confrontational  and emotional -defensive even.

 Only you can allow yourself the chance to evolve from an echo that gets lost in the underwater caves – that will  die when the tide comes bubbling in.

Don’t let it die in the spindrift.

 Let it evolve into a voice.

Your voice can speak on behalf of so many who don’t even know or  even have to know what you are doing.

It’s allowing growth to occur – it’s building character.

Someone , who hasn’t found their voice yet- somewhere down the line – possibly living  the bear necessity life, will hear it.

It could come from another voice  – passed down like a traditional story  Isn’t that how stories first evolved?

Isn’t that people first learned how to take  in information that we feel is important to pass down ?

Isn’t that why we can write paint, talk, act, dance, move , protest, make peace, argue ,debate, remember,honor,  create?

It  can take one person to blow apart everything I have worked for.

 I throw out my’ I  GIVE UP’ boomerang  – it comes back  in another form

I write about it- moan , grumble, collect evidence to fight my very own standing rock.

I,  too need clean  water to live.  Pure Air to breathe.  I need passion to live.

If I allow one character to crush my passion – what then?

What was the point of  baring  my soul to the world?

Of  not being ashamed  airing all  of my experiences, who I am  and what I’ve done ?

 Hang  out my entire newly washed, passion fruit scented lingerie collection ,in the densely packed  , over populated jungle I live in . Free to be dissected, analyzed, mocked ,admired ,mimicked, ignored.

I write plagued with doubt .

 I hit publish.

I take the time to thank the people who inspire me and get me, and then all of a sudden – the world – parts of energy sense a spirit giving  out and not holding back.

These  energies group together , have a cup of herbal tea and a catch-up and then -I get an email – validating my  voice, what I do.

I get a:

” Wow thank you – I needed this – I can’t accept it in the way you want me to but I will give you this….

 compromise.

This gives me the strength to fight my wars, my battles – a new era begins tomorrow.

I’ve developed lock jaw – not letting go of this one just yet.

I want to see what doors close and what doors open

I want to see the lights illuminate the path I am on.

If only to see the shape of it;

my future.

 If I can’t see that – I have no hope.

Without hope, I have no beat-  then it is time to call in the clubs and spades.

So, give up , take a  breather , read the terms and conditions, ask for feedback from more than one source, look at those around you- those strong people who manage to carry on with a smile their on the face.

I don’t know the outcome of this particular situation or most situations I put myself in.

 I do  have a goal no matter how blurred.

I do know I have to  go  into every experience with an open mind, a solid form , confidence, boldness and the idea that:

I may be wrong,

or

I may be right.

Maybe a bit of both ?

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Merely human

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

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

No.

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

I hate injustice.

I hate cowardice behavior.

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

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

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

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

 

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ENOUGH OF THIS BULLSHIT

 

 

 

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

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

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

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Do I have issues?

Yes.

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

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

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

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

No.

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

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

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

Anger may be seen  as a useless emotion.

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In general, I am not an angry person.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am direct, openly honest , to the point.

Is it fair to expect the same  from others?

Yes and No.

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

but

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

It hurts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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THE ONLY TIME TO HAVE ANY EXPECTATIONS

 

 

I’m not expecting anymore:   is my point.

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

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

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

Look back at all you have achieved.

Look forward to all you are achieving.

To wrap this up – I live by the motto

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

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They say all is fair in Love and War……

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

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Wanted: A compliant female with her head screwed on

“if she is willing to screw you, like you or date you -He can’t handle the truth and question’s why- so is She crazy or is He just being a dickhead for calling her crazy ( for seeing something in him -he is obviously having a hard time coming to terms with ?”

DAISY WILLOWS

SOMETHING TO LISTEN TO WHILE YOU READ

When like me, you are a second generation-er of hooking up with men that tend to leave me -wanting more  love.

I  have always thought that more love  is more unkindness , more abuse, more words on how crazy I am am.

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AIN’T THAT DEAD ROMANTIC. HE WROTE A SONG ABOUT ME! 

I am working on a new script- themes that crop up are Betrayal -Love – just to name two.

Solid foundations – a tent is not a good one. A stone house is probably a better choice of material.

I then find the first man who treats me as his queen.

  • Honours me

  • respects me

  • loves me

  • accepts me

  • empowers me

  • Dominates me ( when I let him 😉 ) 

I  can’t get my head around it.

Slowly,I am starting to.

I mean ,I married the man who treats me so different from all the others.

 I wonder if he is normal!

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HOLD UP! WE ARE MARRIED NOW. WHEN YOU GONNA GET MEAN?

When is he going to start treating me in a way that I have been conditioned to respond to?

Why is it that  even now, a part of me is sad that  I don’t get the respect from those who have never shown me any respect?

All Genders are included in this  question.

Take. Take .Take.

I Give Give give.

I don’t know if this a guy thing but it seems like ‘crazy’ is the buzzword to try and put a woman in her place -if she expresses feelings and does things that any “normal” person would do if that person was in her shoes.

I read this  10 NOT-SO-CRAZY REASONS  WHY MEN CALL WOMEN CRAZY

Here are the ones that actually helped me see  myself as a person. So, here is a BIG

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 to  those( not all ) men who think throwing out the crazy word to try and cop out or put me  or any one of my sisters in my/ her place.

 She’s so emotional! F-ing psycho!

If I cry often or during difficult conversations, it doesn’t mean that I’m a crazy emotional mess, it means that I am a human being with emotions that I have invested into that particular conversation. Crying isn’t a sign of weakness, craziness, or hormonal imbalances… so please in God’s name do not ask me if I’m getting my period!

I can so relate to this. If I have invested more of my emotional energy into a friendship , relationship, acquaintance ship, career even, and I get upset when I have fulfilled my purpose to an individual and not got what I was expecting. What does a person expect? If I don’t cry when we are having a difficult conversation. I may be  trying to take in what has been said and let my heart catch up with my mind.

We all internalise and externalise our shit in different ways. One guy I gave my body  and mind too, in the hope of gaining his friendship,made out like I was off my fucking head because I asked for certain drugs to block the pain and guilt of what I had done ,after his ‘I have just fucked you. Here is why it can’t work’speech.

“If  you can’t chill out with Valium then you are seriously fucked up.” said He.

This was said as a follow up to his

” I  only smoke weed day in and day out and have Ketamine/MDMA  every couple of weeks or so.”

Heads up this guy has serious Addiction and relationship issues himself.

“I don’t really drink anymore” – I look around the house- it  is a tip , empty alcohol cans ,bottles and remnants of ‘a party I had two days ago’, said He.

 

DOUBLE STANDARDS ALERT .

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She flipped out when I left my dishes in the sink…she’s nuts!

If I get angry at you for feeling taken advantage of, it doesn’t mean I’m uptight and crazy, it means that sometimes I don’t want to be treated like an indentured servant or a sex slave. You’ve had a long day? So have I, and looking cute or being sexy while cleaning up your mess isn’t exactly on the top of my priority list. Anger is fine for men, yet when women express it, we are donned crazy.

This one doesn’t just have to be about dishes. It does seem  true that  Anger in men is fine, encouraged even. I have been an instigator of this myself.

“MAN UP” says I.

 A woman gets Angry and lashes out !

Why is that crazy or anything less validating than a man expressing his emotions?

Some Men just don’t understand women at all.

It is easy to run away and point a finger and say ‘it is her- me I have my shit together. PLEASE LOOK AT YOUR FUCKING LIFE

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She’s left me like 10 messages demanding that I call her back!! She’s not understanding the brush off!!

If I continue to call or text after no response from you, It doesn’t make me crazy for not getting the “hint”, it makes you a child who refuses to take accountability or responsibility for your feelings/lack of feelings. I know you don’t want to talk to me. I deserve to have that conversation even if it’s difficult for you. And at this point I’m desperately hoping you pick up the phone just so I can hear the terror in your voice. What exactly are you afraid of? Honesty? Grow up!

This is one, when I read it – A light switched on for me . Yes, I may have sent ineligible texts, nursing my heart with benzos and alcohol at  the time, decided it was a great idea to text a person who I needed answers from. When I was picking up the pieces.It  was a hard for me to be objective about the texting. It wasn’t a side I like to see in me. I looked pathetic.

Until I read the above. I think me wanting answers is not unfair and this is when I finally realised just   who I had invested so much time into –

Some  Boys think life is a game.

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LOOK AT ME . I’M LEVELLING UP! 

 Men know when it’s time to get  honest and talk without their dicks.

You’re a crazy bitch but ya F—- so good I’m on top of it!

If I enjoy sex and I know what I like it doesn’t make me a crazy slut, or just plain crazy. An important part of being a woman is knowing your body, knowing your limits, and not being afraid to ask for what you want. People have kinks and preferences. Adages like “crazy in bed means crazy in the head” is just another way to make women feel badly for being exactly who they are. We are constantly told not to be ordinary, normal, or boring, so when we embrace our not so boring side we shouldn’t be feared and shamed. Grow up and embrace the sexual revolution boys! A real woman should be confident in bed, no matter what her preferences.

Yeah, what I have to add to this as a woman is,a  I grow as a woman , sexually gaining confidence in myself, not needing alcohol or drugs to fuck.

Men rarely make any apologies for wanting to fuck me. When I show I can take control and say this is what I want and no I don’t like to be treated mean.

Some  guy’s seem to  love that, until………………..

they  cum.

Then, it feels like if he didn’t make his bed the first time – he sure as hell is not going to start now.

So he starts back pedalling. His spine goes as limp as his most erect penis .

That is a bit cruel. Maybe I indulge a man’s ego because I don’t want to say.

“I can’t feel a thing. Are you actually in yet?”

Maybe, I have had a child and slept with many or a few  dudes or maybe I am just used to bigger cocks.

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  STOP THE SLUT SHAMING!

She says she’s in love with me…she must be crazy!

Lastly, If I tell you that I love you chances are I do…or at least I think I do. Falling in love with someone is difficult. Admitting to it, is even more difficult. Don’t belittle my feelings. Don’t give me reasons not to love you. And don’t, by any means, stick around if the feelings aren’t mutual. I love you..there I said it…so either be a man and dive into this thing with me, or be a man and walk away. And remember, if after you’ve made your choice, (to stay and love me or to walk away) I am a crying mess, I’m not crazy. I’m just human. 

Even if this is said by a drunk women texting. She may not love you – she may  just have ” complicated” feelings for you.  She may say she hates you in the next text.

Rejection sucks. Ever been there?

The biggest cop out is ‘it is not going to work but of course we can be friends’   two days later -unfriended with no answers.

Finally, be fucking specific.  CRAZY is such an umbrella term.

She’s constantly drunk. ( daisy adds when she is around him)

“She got hammered last night and was completely crazy.”

Do you mean to say, “She has an issue with alcohol abuse?”

That’s very different from being crazy.

If she’s constantly drinking that much and losing her sh*t, you might have some more serious problems to deal with other than her “craziness.”

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OOPS SORRY….. I DON’T KNOW WHAT CAME OVER ME. 

I tend to write what I know. I already have the dramatised scenes but I like to get more creative and make it original,  when I put pen to paper and get my draft down, then  the editing process starts. Characters grow the more I write,what they say to each other, the more the plot develops,.

I started reading these articles because I am looking for motives for who at this present is -the Antagonist – this could change.

I was so fixed on the Antagonists good qualities and the Protagonists bad qualities. I needed to find balance.

Characters and  real people all have light and dark in them. No person is wholly good or wholly bad.