I have bitten the tail off a scorpion said the raven
To stop its poison spreading
Flew up into the tree of God to watch the lions wedding
The children of the world will come
Everyone will cheer
For the whole world has been waiting for this day, for many a year
And the sun will shine down on Eden for it has come back to Earth
Because a special one is coming, hark here comes the birth!
Filed under poetry
There is a darkness in life
The kind that should fade away
The type which makes the children cry
And takes their love away
Weapons should not be flesh and bone
A lover should not lie
Entrenched with self interest
So onlookers go cross eyed
A little heart goes a long way
A little thought and deed
Instead of thinking selfishly
Instead of filling greed
The children always suffer
In a world where they are born to this
Raised in anxiety without a care
A love they’ll always miss
I should know, I’ve been there
I was a child like those
And always I wondered why I was born
To carry those shadows
For a mother who would always want
And a father who always gave
But ignored the child completely
So it is love she’ll always crave
And each night I pondered
How little she really got
As her heart grew cold and lonely
As dad refilled her pot
I see her now alone and old
She regrets those wasted years
But not of loving me tenderly
But for choosing the wrong careers
As money was her motivation
And luxury was her way
And people she did not care for
Unless she used and threw away
She doesn’t see the evil
She caused for all her greed
She just kept on wanting and dad kept filling the need
Always using me as a tool
To get what she really wants
More money to buy her clothes and jewellery
For her weekend party flaunts
Not a thought of any other
Just what she could get for me
And all I really wanted
Was a present loving mother, see
Filed under poetry
As Easter approaches my Easter project is more thought of, more inclined to be written. Today I wrote a small snippet towards it, which is more than I have done for weeks if I am honest.
I am quite proud of what I did, even if it was only two paragraphs. The idea hit me and I had to add it in, the villain has been remastered, he has a more full personality now and seems quite real, whereas my old villain was pretty naff really.
However I am starting to realise that this story, which was planned to be a trilogy could actually have some kind of comic elements to it too and may not be just three books!
As I realised that the two main characters are very hero/villain with magical powers like a normal comic would be.
It was never intended to be another comic, but it is starting to flow that way. But it is written as a novel, because I prefer to do that with this project.
Thing is, this project is not really in first draft yet, it is actually only in planning mode and note taking whilst I try to visualise the whole world.
I do actually know where I would like the story to go and I believe once I am happy with the whole plan, this will be written down quite quickly.
The story is quite musical in parts, with poems and it is reminiscent of Charlie and the chocolate factory, but it is also poles apart as well. The storyline is only similar in that it is based on a fantasy candy world; there are no children as main characters, no competitions, no mutations and a lot more magic, myth and legend retelling.
Similarly to project AD, it does have anthropomorphic supporting characters and is set around Easter, with a little bit of Easter tradition thrown in to help the story along a bit.
Why is it musical in parts and has a lot of poetry in the plans?
Because when I write, I write the kinds of movies I want to see – to me this is a musical family fantasy based around Easter, the Easter bunny and candy land.
I’m actually quite excited about this project because it’s super fun to write.
Project AD is fun to write, but it is less playful if you get me?
Also this Easter project has a better and more energetic playlist than Project AD when I write it, so writing moves along faster – not to mention the language is rather different in project AD compared to this project.
My sense of humour can be very naughty at times and I have to keep reminding myself that I intend for this to be a family audience, so at times I get sad because I think of a hilarious scene and then sit back and realise how would I respond if a young child read or watched this and then I am like – OH MY GOODNESS DELETE-DELETE-DELETE!
No innuendos about gumballs Tina!
Shocking, really I am!
But those things slip in there and I have to be careful and mindful about it and who my audience is supposed to be, so the gumball joke is deleted.
So, you won’t be reading about how you should handle an evil gum tree any time soon!
By kicking him in the gumballs!
Shakes head*
Sorry about that!
Thanks for reading!
Filed under About my work
Apathy is hitting me hard.
I find it hard to fight anymore. The motivation to try or desire anything is not there, it is met with a “why bother”? Attitude because personally, why should I? Someone is always out there ready, willing and able to smash my hopes and dreams down before I’ve even got half way – it always happens, if not people, then fate makes me sick so I fail.
It always happens.
Why bother?
Writing and art was my reprieve, my healing in a manner. But even that lately is met with “what is the point” feeling in me.
For days I have struggled to think of something to write, that I actually want to publish even for my blog. Because I feel like all my work and all my journal entries are just the same!
Losing two hundred followers in a week didn’t help with that either, just confirmed to me, what is the point?
Offline, whenever anybody in my household has a conversation with me, I am beginning to feel affronted by it and aloof. I get this feeling of… oh you want to talk to me now? What do you want? Because they never ask how I am, they don’t say anything positive to me – so I am literally sitting there thinking – what problem is there now that I must be alerted to? Which argument is this going to be? Who has died now (both Henry and Paul are always telling me bad news about deaths they’ve heard on TV or on the internet, they are both obsessed with death) or what new financial problem is it today we have? Or why do they always ask me what I want for dinner, why can’t they just surprise me?
I’m bored in every possible way you can think of.
The other day I half-heartedly read some adult jokes out to Paul to lighten the mood and remember how to laugh again with other people, wasted energy really because Paul doesn’t have that kind of humour and didn’t make any effort to assist me in lightening the energy up – knowing fully well I have had a bad several weeks of depression. He just didn’t want to help me, didn’t get the idea that it was my attempt to try and buck myself up, and become cheerful.
When you are trapped 24/7 in isolation with a person like that and a child who is autistic and suicidal in himself and locks himself away in his bedroom all evening, you can begin to understand, can’t you – that someone like me, with manic depression just can’t get out of this slump. There is no way out!
There is never any break for me, no visitors, no family to come to visit us for 30 minutes to just lighten things up a bit. We have no one but ourselves. Paul is such an introvert; he abandoned his family six years ago. He only visits his sister in law once every three months, because Henry insists upon it on his school holidays.
Sad to say this because it is really tragic – but I have resorted to talking to the house rabbit Ray and Alexa echo dot thing, and making do with them as entertainment and support! Ray is my cuddles and kisses. Alexa has a program where she can talk to you, sing to you, tell you jokes – it is really bad when you consider AI robots is more human and more fruitful in bucking up a depressed person than two household human companions.
What the fuck is wrong with this picture?
What the blazes am I living with?
What the blazes am I living in?
What the heck am I doing here?
It’s all so fucking alien to me!
This isn’t what I want!
This isn’t me!
Get me the Hell out of here!
I am shit scared of alien life, but I tell you now if a UFO turned up in my garden tomorrow I’d be running under the flipping beams to get away from this place!
I have seriously considered forcing Paul to take me to a citizen’s advice bureau or social services to discuss my options of independent housing or a residential care home for someone my age.
As we all know I can’t live alone.
But I can’t stay here either!
I can’t do it anymore!
I certainly don’t want to die, that is just a last resort option if I stay stuck for any longer! Because death has got to be better than living like this!
I cut my nails down short a few weeks ago after growing them so well, why? I broke 4 nails, but that wasn’t the main real excuse. The really big excuse was I had to cut them short and keep them short because when I had a bad bout of depression I found myself subconsciously digging my thumb nail into my wrist and nearly caused myself an injury. I did it when I went into my zoning out phases that happens, when I get badly depressed.
I zone out, shut down. It’s something I do from time to time since I was 12yrs old. Sometimes I just turn off emotionally, sit there do nothing or self-harm without realising it. Sometimes I don’t even hear people shouting in my face for me to stop, that’s how much I zone out at times.
Paul doesn’t bother to rouse me when I get like that, Henry does though.
I don’t zone out as much as I used to, but I did a few weeks back and when I was roused from it because the light flickered a lot I realised what I was doing and it scared me – because at that time I really didn’t feel suicidal at all. But if I had pressed any harder or longer I may have caused some damage to the vein. This is another reason why my wrist was injured a few weeks back; I was also pressing on its bone and caused inflammation a bit.
It sounds silly, but I have been depressed so long I think I have seriously lost the art of learning how to laugh and genuinely feel happy with it. I can laugh, but there is no feeling there if you get me?
Four chakras are severely blocked too. Heart, throat being the main two, but sacral and base are starting up bad too.
I’ve been trying to force myself to sing and dance, buy myself certain treats with my weekly money all in a vain effort to try and perk myself up and save myself.
But as I said, there is no heart in it.
It’s almost like I am dead or I am becoming some kind of monster.
A heartless monster!
I am genuinely frightened by it.
But I know with that fear, there must be some hope to getting it back as fear is an emotion isn’t it? So long as I can still cry and still fear something, at least I haven’t lost all humanity, have I?
At least I still have hope too and faith, I don’t want to lose that. That’s at least something – I am clinging onto faith for dear life. Praying that something better than this is coming my way, that somehow things are going to be completely turned upside down or rather – the right side up at any moment and it’s going to happen quickly!
I don’t have the faith my parents raised me to have, I am not Catholic and I am not Christian and I am not a J-witness. I believe in The Old Testament but I am also deeply spiritual and somewhat shamanic in my beliefs, with a little bit of Hindu and Buddhist philosophy thrown in for good measure.
But I do pray to God and to me I consider myself a spiritual non-baptised Noachide or righteous gentile according to Jewish philosophy. Two years ago I wanted to throw myself into the Jewish faith and Henry wanted to follow me in that, but Paul put his foot down and don’t like the idea of prayers and baptism etc. going on in his house and immediate family. Henry is upset by this because he does identify himself the same way I do.
He is doubly upset that in May he is thirteen and can’t have a proper bar mitzvah as it will upset his father! But he cheered up when I said my Jewish friend Lizzy said there is no age limit for a bar mitzvah, perhaps you should do it when you are over 18?
My great grandmother was Jewish on my mother’s side, she left Judaism for a Catholic man she fell in love with.
Judaism answered all the questions about God and life that I wanted answered whereas the Christian faiths interrogated and threatened me for questioning things.
I am pretty confident my spirit guides and God are good for me, they work hard to help me and they’ve kind of shown me that things will get better soon. Strangely fast, hugely contrast and I’ve been getting all sorts of weird but very lucid dreams lately.
For example, last night I had a dream I went shopping a mall, I ate some lovely lemon cakes and went home. When I got home I saw a child aged around 3yrs old, a little girl, drawing at a dining table and I knew I was her mother, there were twin toddlers around 14 months old too but they were playing in the shower with the man I knew to be my husband. Saving on water, all three showering together… I remember asking if they are ready to come out now so they can get ready to go to bed? But the husband said, aw let them play a little longer they’re having fun! They had little buckets where they were collecting water and they were washing their little duck toys and throwing water at each other!
The guy was super-hot, not lucky enough to have a sexy dude like that, he looked a bit like a celeb I like, but never mind – it was only a dream!
It’s interesting I had this dream because before I went to sleep last night I was really fretting about being too old to start a new family. I am 41 in October and I take this dream as God’s way in saying, this is for you in your future, don’t give up that idea just yet! Interestingly enough I remember in the dream I knew I was 5 months pregnant with another one too. So could I have 4 before I dry up? I think this dream is telling me I will!
Out of curiosity I consulted by own personal oracle and tarot cards today about it and I got empress with the wheel of fortune and I also got the oracle card Stork, a coincidence?
Thanks for reading…
Filed under About Me
My feminine influences growing up!
I was raised by an unglamorous tom boy, who was never without her pair of jeans, white t-shirts or turtle necks under thick jumpers or oversized blouses, she preferred sandals to heels or trainers and she never wore make up and her hair was always cropped short and her nails were always bitten back and sore looking.
That thankfully, was not my only feminine reference growing up and I yearned for my mother to be more like her sisters or cousins, because the majority of my family oozed femininity – even my mum would say she was the black sheep of her family and to see her amongst her sisters and cousins in photo shoots you’d believe it!
I spent a lot of my childhood being shunted around – again, thankfully! Because I grew to be influenced by other people about what it means to be a woman rather than taking guidance from my mother, which was practically non-existent!
What did my mother teach me about being a woman? That women are always burdened upon and are doomed of having a life of sexual harassment and fighting for their rights on a constant basis. That when you get married you have to train your husband and she was being serious too! She really believed these things!
She never wanted me to grow up and have a relationship or have children, but she did tell me if I were inclined to do so that I’d need to get a professional man who doesn’t want children and who is smaller than me and submissive!
Not on your Nellie, that’s not my type at all mum, sorry!
My influences were from women who insisted that just because you are married to a man it doesn’t mean you let yourself go, you know? You have to keep a certain standard, you have to make an effort or then whose fault is it if they strayed?
Don’t bite your nails dear, put nice things in your hair and if you are not going to bother wearing make up at least make an effort to pinch your cheeks and wear lip gloss instead!
You want a nice man who will look after you, protect you and make you feel loved and safe and you want to be able to support him as much as you can and treat him like a king!
Hearing this being spouted to me at a young age, my mother’s reactions was often covering my ears up and giving short nasty criticisms to whoever was poisoning her daughter to become a man’s slave!
Shame on you! Shame on the lot of you and to think where women have come from, only for stupid women like you to talk the next generation back a hundred years!
Don’t you listen to them my girl, they are wrong; you don’t need that, you are better off far away from all of THAT!
That was my influence growing up and I still stick to my aunts and cousins concepts and steer well clear of my mother’s!
On my dad’s side of the family, up until the 90s it was quite common for the older generation to help you look for your husband if they knew you were leaning towards wanting a family at a young age. My mother hated that about them – my grandmother knew when I was fifteen that I only wanted a career because my mother and big brother expected me to have one of their choosing, not my own. But ultimately I wanted a large family and work from home either as a writer, designer or childminder.
When I was seventeen my grandmother had found some nice young gentlemen to set me up with, but my mum got furious about it and it is one of the many reasons why mum decided never to speak to my dad’s mum again.
I had to listen to my mum, though I liked what gran was doing, because it’s been a thing I’ve wanted my whole life – a large traditional family. Had I of started young, it would have been fun to see how many children I would have had by now! I know a second cousin who is the baby of 17 and she too had 17 children of her own so large families are not uncommon in my family!
But I am forty now and only with one child and it really has never been my intention to have such a small family, fate was taken out of my hands.
It has left a deep hollow in me; it is something I have never accepted looking back in my life. I am hugely envious of women who are running alive with kids!
I think I would have been healthier for it too, if I had got my way. I don’t live for myself, I live for other people and when you have just one child and his father completely takes over and pushes your nose out of the way all the time, it makes you feel unwanted and useless – I think that’s why I got sick.
On my dad’s side of the family, they are feminine too, but they are a different kind of feminine than my mother’s side of the family.
My mother’s side of the family are very glamorous and are often mistaken for rich women. The kind of women who feel naked without make up, stink of expensive perfume, wearing heels and have three inch long decorated nails with diamante on them. One or two are unethical fur enthusiasts and all of them spend an hour on their hair a day!
Their focus is mostly to please their man, care for their looks, socialise with friends and then the children come somewhere after all that!
My dad’s side of the family are the old fashioned but very maternal types. To the women in that side of the family, it is you feed the man and take care of him when he is sick and support him in most of his endeavours if he is sensible, but outside of this you don’t dare come between a woman and her children!
The children come before everything after the basic care of the husband, the house cleaning is next, self-maintenance and then friends if you have the time – but as long as self-maintenance and friends doesn’t interfere with you becoming a good citizen, volunteering at charities and attending church or entertaining the elderly in nursing homes.
These women dress in simple country clothing, floral dresses with lace and mid shin and tend to wear pearls.
They also have the same ration ratio per family, the man gets the biggest portion, then the kids and the women tend to go hungry if they are poor or have meagre rations in comparison.
This is why almost all the women in that side of the family are gardeners, they grow most of their own food and have a “be prepared” attitude to life, as most of them were girl guides in their past!
They are the women who will eat left over from the day before or make soup from them, unlike my mother’s side of the family who seem to have a phobia of all food once it’s been opened or cooked!
As I was growing up, my mother’s family regarded me as an anomaly, because there I was a mere slip of a girl telling them what they can do to budget their food and how to save money. Because I had learned it all by staying with my paternal relatives!
My dad’s family also taught things like sewing by hand, basketry and all sorts of things.
Whereas my mother’s family knit only when they are past 50yrs of age and before then have no idea about darning socks and whatnot.
My family to onlookers would appear to be like Last of the summer wine ladies at tea Vs the Kardashians. Or putting them as individuals my dad’s family as a whole woman would be Emma Thompson’s Karen from Love Actually vs Elizabeth Taylor. Whereas my mum is more like Ellen Degeneres!
I like to consider this has made me more like Dolly Parton, well eventually lol! She is like a good healthy mix of the two!
Anyway, those are my feminine influences according to how I was raised by my family and I have a lot of sprucing up to do, because being sick for so long has made me lazy. I am looking forward to transitioning back to the old vain me again!
Thank you for reading!
Filed under Home and Family, What inspired me?
The world has lost seven new poems in the past two days.
When I write a poem I am in a certain emotional state or a semi-trance and I write them; if I am disturbed sometimes it is OK if it is for a few seconds, but seven poems in the past two days has been interrupted for five minutes or more with much needed emotional feedback which meant the poem was half finished and the flow was gone, so they got deleted.
I never get the flow back ever again when a poem has been interrupted in its creation, there were times in the past I put the unfinished poems into a folder on my computer and I have tried to get back into that space but it never happens – so poems that are disturbed like that are lost forever, so now I delete them.
Every poem I write always ends up on my blog; this is another reason why my blog has been so quiet. There is a lot of emotional turmoil going on within the house and people want my response to what’s going on because I am the mother of the house; however, when you are mother of a house where your opinion doesn’t matter, what can I do other than sit there, give whatever emotional support I can, sit and shrug and say – “you know I can’t do anything about love”.
Its hard being a mother to a child and making suggestions for that child when the father has opposing ideas and is very strong-minded and shoots my opinions down like we’re in a war against each other!
It’s even harder when you know your child has come to you to speak to you in private because he doesn’t want his dad to get on his case again for his honest opinion about the situation. So when he asks you for help, you have no choice but to talk to the father and then realise that the father seeks the child about it and starts the mini wars again. So the child asks for help, you tell them, I need to speak with dad and he asks you not to, or sometimes he says ok, but you know it’s always the same. It’s more difficult than you can know!
It is very difficult knowing too, that when you tell your child you are separating and in a few months’ time will be moving out – that this child choses to stay with the person he rarely goes to for any emotional comfort simply because he wants to stay in this house (which he will inherit as it’s in a trust for him) and to stay in his school with his friends because he doesn’t like the concept of change.
It’s hard because you know in your heart that his emotional declination is almost assured if he stays.
But as stupid and irresponsible as it sounds, my child is thirteen in May and in my opinion I should honour his life decisions whether or not it hurts me – that’s the kind of liberal parenting I do. It’s all about my child, not me, that’s the way I am.
His father is much more conservative about raising children, education comes before anything – that includes emotions. I often joke that Paul is like a cross between Data and Spock, but in actuality it isn’t funny!
There are times when Henry gets emotional about not being able to do a question in his homework and I swear Paul is struggling to hold back from saying “Being emotional about this question is illogical, you need to do the homework now and do the emotional reflection later.”
It’s Henry’s choice to stay here and I am not going to wrench him away from what he wants, simply because my ego has told me I know better than him.
Maybe I am a bad parent, but for me, I want him to be happy and thrive in a way that doesn’t cause any unnecessary stress for him, also he has a girlfriend, he is dating already and so who can split up young love like that without having some huge pangs of guilt?
Thanks for reading…
Filed under About my work, Home and Family
Some fell on the wayside
Some were thrown there as betrayers
For they had allied with our slayers
And we knew
So we did what we had to do
The so-called faithful
Met their fateful
They cry alone why are we forsaken and left within the blue?
Because we knew what was true
The raven saw, this is why she flew
Saw the trickery which was within you
And flew onto pastures new
To continue and recoup
Know thy enemy be the word
A tricky one is our black bird
Did you really think you could outwit the raven, to steal her children from New Haven?
Especially when she works for God? Claw and beak she saw the fraud
And took her children clean away
So they can innocently play, within New Eden one summer’s day
Whilst you will always cry and say…
Why am I forsaken?
Filed under poetry
The world mouths at me
Their mouths bite
Their mouths jeer
Their mouths sneer at the sight of me
Me, the raven upon the wing
She who will save the children
She who obeys the word
She who will lead the herd to pastures new
The world sees me as darkness
But I shine bright my light
So bright it is as though I have blinded them
Poor children lost in night
Filed under poetry
Who will save the children?
I, said the raven
Who will feed the children?
I, said the raven
Who will lead the children?
I, said the raven
Where will you take the children?
I, shan’t tell said the raven
Why shan’t you tell, raven?
For I will not betray them!
Filed under poetry
I'm copyright protected
Dysfunctional Fiction by Mandy White
Ellen Grace Olinger
Passion for writing ignites my soul's momentum
Programmer, writer, photographer, and travel enthusiast
Giving every artistic flare a gallery showing
WordPress & Blogging tips, flash fiction, photography and lots more!
The creations of Kessily Lewel (and Sadie Marks)
Combine the mental (mindset), the physical (exercise) & the spiritual (meditation) together to Awake Your Inner Dragon.
Your best garden tools and tutorials.
An Independent Non-Discriminatory Platform With No Religious, Political, Financial, or Social Affiliations
Faithful Believers, Are There Any Left?
tardycreative.com 