How to kill an artist

There is a broken bridge in the creative heavens

Where creators steal other worlds

Make them their own and change things

Make them straight when they ought to be curled

It’s a tragedy to see it

When a creator can’t create

For they need to take another’s work

To put food on their plates

How proud do they feel when they do it?

Does it feed their soul?

I live in doubt of the truth of that

If I may be so bold?

How hungry is the creator who takes another’s art?

How starved and deranged are they? 

If they could eat another’s heart!

For I have seen it happen

The scope of vicious duels

Of two creators in battle

For one who won’t use their tools

And I have seen the tragedies it causes in their lives

As depression rips them soundly, as though they’re stabbed with knives

They can’t live with what they do and they know it’s wrong and bad

But they can’t help it really and that’s what makes it sad

To kill another artist for the want of fame and gold

It pounds reality into me

And makes my blood run cold

Silver demon

It’s dark out there

In the night

The moon is the only light

Blinded by the dense black

I look through the window but I look back

I see only myself reflected there

Trying to see out, but there’s a glare

I dim the light to see more

And what I saw shook me to the core

For under the oak I saw a tail

It slithered and made a silver trail

It raised its head at looked at me

Two silver eyes as cold as cold can be

It went to the cabbages and began to munch

On the green leaves his midnight lunch

The demonic snail, the king of them all

Eating my cabbages with fervour and gall!

I’d chase him off but he was bigger than me

Ate the whole row of ten!

Bet you don’t believe me!

But he will be back next month for more

Until then I’ll lock my door

For it’s an unnatural thing that snail

This is why the house is for sale!

Losing the fight

One thing about me is I am good at not showing negative emotions.  Online it seems like I am a drama queen that I am suckered into my emotions and I go to dark places and I seem self-absorbed. 

Offline however, I hide it.  I hide myself when I am down so I don’t bring down others I am around.

I am an empath; I soak up energies of other people, even just by thinking about them I can kind of get a feel what’s going on in their lives.  So I respect that other people might be empathic too.

It’s a real hard adjustment living with someone who is as apathetic in life as I am; it’s like a prison of despair in a very real sense.

I never used to be like this.  I am trapped in depression because I am around apathetic or superficial people, or people who just seem unemotional a lot of the time.

I used to be such a happy Pollyanna type; those days seem very far away right now. 

I am getting to the point I am losing my strength to fight it and carry on, I am getting into a hopeless place.

Gradually over the months I’ve lost more and more of my appetite, to the extent I think soon I will not even bother to try and eat.  I have only just realised today that it’s actually probably due to depression that I can’t eat, because on the days I have been able to eat a little more, things have been a little lighter around me.

I am doing less and less as time goes by, it’s like I am a clockwork doll which is about to lose her energy at any moment and there is no one left to wind me up again.  Isolation has done that to me, isolation and a lazy superficial person I live with.

I needed Samaritans today, but I am deaf, I can’t speak on the phone – they don’t do text speech yet in my area apparently, but it’s coming soon…

Will it come soon enough?

I try to hide when I cry, I don’t like people seeing me like that, imagine how awkward it was for me when Henry walked in on me because I lost track of time and he came home from school and rushed to my bedroom to give me one of his ever increasingly rare hello hugs and instantly his smile became a face of concern. 

Guilt, that’s what hit me when I saw his face, cold hard guilt.

I had my hoodie up and I shielded my eyes but he is a smart boy, he wasn’t convinced when I faked a cold.

He demanded to know what caused it and hugged me as he became firm about getting to the bottom of it.

He left eventually. 

What bothers me is not that he caught me, but that his father came into the room just ten minutes before completely unfazed by how he found me.  He never asked any questions other than when I wanted dinner and was eager to leave again without battering an eyelid.  When Paul left, I got worse, because one of the reasons why I was upset was because I felt lonely and I felt no one could care if I were to die tomorrow.

To me, this proved it.

No one but Henry would.

Perhaps I am selfish, perhaps I am a drama queen – perhaps tomorrow I will snap out of it?

Perhaps!

But right now, I am losing heart to try anymore. 

I am tired of broken dreams, broken promises, and snapshots of a better future without any proof or real taste of it.  I am tired of the lies; I am tired of people using me as a pawn in a game.

I am tired. 

Thanks for reading…

Flux to Fluck?

I am in a flux today.

I am experiencing deep depression and high motivation and there is no real in-between.

On one hand I feel extremely down and tearful and struggling to even think that I’d get to April and on the other I feel pumped to exercise and morph my body over a time into how I really want it to be.

I’ve been staring in a mirror for months trying to see myself through other people’s eyes and occasionally I see something, but then I move my head a certain way and the ugly comes back to haunt me.

So, exercise raises endorphin levels when you do it after a time, but it’s getting the will to get up and just move today that’s eating at me.  Because I just want to hide under my fleece blanket and cry about things, cry deeply – I’m wearing hoodies a lot lately to hide the fact I’m crying so much to other members of the household.

They really haven’t noticed, perhaps my friend is right – I’d be a good actress?  Who knows!

When I have got used to never dreaming because things never happen for me, someone comes along and tells me that life is soon to be great and it’s like another tease.  More disappointment for the future and more broken dreams and an even more shattered heart – that’s the forecast for me I think.

I used to be a positive person, a Pollyanna and I used to tick people off with my ray of sunshine and words of encouragement – it’s like someone was bothered by it so much they’ve cursed me!

I’m told regularly, I will have great things because I have a great talent and this person and that person likes you – it’s all bullshit really, because I haven’t seen these people tell me things.

There are lots of talented people in the world who don’t have those great things – I’m not the only one and it’s not things that I want.  It’s love.

A few rich men haven’t got that into their thick heads yet – they think they can seduce me with things, but they can’t.

Why are the simplest things in life so hard to obtain?  A persons time, snuggles; words of love, support and encouragement, a good time and a laugh without judgement?

A tactile relationship that feels real and not based on lies and broken promises, a relationship where we encourage each other, instead of one of us being a sponge and draining the life out of the other in order to make the other one feel better?

I know I have had a life of abuse, but it sounds strange to roll this off the tongue, but I was always a happy kind of person, known for being bubbly and friendly and since I’ve moved here slowly and steadily I am being drained of life.

I remember before I moved here that I could never imagine the day I’d die, I was scared of death and wanted to be immortal – but now I crave death.  It’s so contrast!

My willpower for survival is weakening.

Paul told me the other day that when a problem used to occur when I first moved in and I wasn’t moved by it and stayed relaxed and the same, that it bothered him, frustrated him even.  Now, whenever there is a problem I am at the complete opposite end of the spectrum, where a problem can become a huge drama quite quickly and it’s a big contrast and he thought that I’d be more supportive and take it more seriously, but instead it’s made me fall apart.

I know why.

When I lived with my parents, emotions were not tolerated if it made a person loud or unmanageable and unproductive. 

When I came here, it’s ok to be loud, shouting, ranting and raving at the slightest problem and to not let go.

I’m a huge empathic sponge, I soak up the energies of people around me and become like them – I’m a spiritual chameleon of sorts.  This is why it’s essential I remove myself from this environment somehow, but it’s difficult when the energies around me are apathetic, depressed, defensive and aggressive.

On the rare occasion a visitor comes who is of lighter energy, it rubs off me quickly and I feel like the old me again – their energy can boost me for a couple of days in fact, but it never lasts.

I remember having such high energy when I first moved in that I drained Paul instead.  Paul looked awful and exhausted all the time.  Because I was always on my feet, being bubbly, finding joy in the smallest thing like a child in a candy store, no matter what happened in life – everything was like a novelty to me and it was.

Because I rarely got to choose anything and go out when I lived with my parents.

I had comments from Paul that I looked at the world in childlike wonder and innocence and that I was so excitable, he kept telling me to slow down, calm down, sit down, lie down, everything had to come down.

Till I emotionally fell down and can barely get up with the weight of it all.

Words can’t describe how I truly feel – all of this feels like intense whining of a bitter heart who hates the world for the joy it has because she hasn’t got it.  Jealous slurs, that’s probably what you’re thinking about this post right now.

If you aren’t thinking that, then I apologise.

Art would show the world more of what I feel inside, but then again I can’t use my art table right now can I?

I really miss doing art.

I think the reason why I look younger than forty is because as tragic as it sounds I cry so much my tears sometimes dry on my face and make it feel taut after a while.  Like now, my face feels tight because the tears have dried.

I try to keep my sense of humour and find something to laugh about, which is part of the manic depression I have.  One minute extremely low and playing with sharp objects near my wrists and then the next moment cracking jokes about my darkness.

I might be depressed but with the tear treatment at least it keeps me young.  It’s a little light, but still gloomy and incredibly pitiful.

But that’s where I am today.

No in between – motivated to exercise and cry my heart out at the same time whilst being at my most deeply creative. 

Lack of sleep, slept four and a half hours again last night, my average for the past few weeks actually.

Motivated to exercise because I saw a glimmer of hope in the mirror the other day that I could look exactly like Diana Dors (Diana Mary Fluck) my main idol after all!  Just dye the hair, tone up and lose around forty pound and yes, I can see its possible I could be like her…

Maybe someday I will get myself out of this dump and sell my work and get myself a red dress covered in rubies and diamonds and wear a pretty wine coloured faux fur shrug with a silk ribbon?  Maybe someday I can walk in high heels without looking like a rookie tranny and actually be elegant and swan like?

Or maybe someday I will be found in a pile of my own poems covered in blood and white as snow, cold and still like ice and maybe my finders will publish my work for me and I will become posthumously famous?

Sods law that.

Thanks for reading…

A cold warning

I’m not one for being used

Unless I give my heart

But if you don’t cherish me enough

We simply have to part

I’m not into short term love

They are ten a penny

I am tired of all the games

I don’t want any

Don’t try to trick me with your charms

It won’t work with this witch

Hurt me and cast me aside

You’ll soon see a bitch!

I’ll hunt you down and tear you apart

For thinking you can play with my heart

I go cold and black quite quick

If you try to fuck around this chick

I’ll chew you up and spit you out

Before you even know it

And that will be your just desserts for treating me like shit!

Shrivelled Heart

It’s dark in my heart

It’s cold in my heart

It’s tight in my heart

There’s no room

All the wounds have made it shrink

Shrink so tight

I don’t think there’s room for love

I don’t think I’ll love again

Because my heart was torn out

It was squeezed so tightly

It dried and shrivelled when he took it

And tried to break it in half

But my heart is made of some kind of rubber

But it is bruised and beyond recover

Will I ever love again?

Will my heart ever mend?

Who knows…

Who knows…

Maybe if life’s clown watered my heart it will beat again?

Maybe if I found someone it will love again…

But I don’t know

Who knows…

Who knows…

Coming from that horrible place again, from 2004 – seriously for four years I couldn’t see myself in a relationship with a man again, not a normal one and to be honest, I know it sounds weird – but going into the BDSM lifestyle actually helped me recover a lot!

I owe my ability to love and trust again due to the guys I met during that time!

But I love cautiously and when I can sniff bad memories resurfacing in someone new, I can be abrupt with them.  Be warned!

I don’t ever want to be in the place again.

The only thing I have ever truly wanted in my life was to be loved and cherished without any indication that the feelings are fake from the other person – a genuine person who loves me for who I am.  Someone who likes snuggles from time to time, someone who cares enough to ask how I think and feel about things – someone I can trust enough to love back and when I love, I love deeply and I am a nurturer – I live to nurture others. 

I know a lot of guys have got a problem with the nurturing type – “hey, I am not your baby” kind of thing – but I can’t help it, I show my love by hugging, talking a lot and asking how you are, do you want to talk about things?  Get things off your chest, unburden yourself by being open with me… but people I’ve experienced don’t like that kind of thing and I sit back and wonder – well then… what is love?

To me love is where you can be totally yourself with the person you are with, without the fear of being judged and criticised – yes constructive criticism is good a little conflict is healthy, but you know what I mean right?  You don’t actually want those criticisms to hurt the person you love, just guide them gently… yes?  Hey you really should think about so and so, it’s not healthy to do so and so… that’s gentle – not words like hey stop scarfing all the pizza or you’re gonna get fatter gordita and if that happens I’ll dump you!

To me past is past, I don’t like bad past being bought up as a weapon when in relationships – to me that’s love, love contains forgiveness and if you forgive someone in one moment and then weeks later remind them of their failure a few weeks back, you haven’t truly forgiven them!

But that’s me.

Yes, OK, some of my poems seem like I haven’t let go of my past, but sometimes as stupid as it sounds it’s OK to relive those places if you are a creative person, because creativity is more appreciated when it comes from a place of authenticity – when you know the writer has experienced that, you know they know what they are on about… you get me?

This is why, when I was in college a few years back I did so well in drama classes, because I can make myself relieve those memories so authentically, that I can bring myself back to the place I need to be when acting.  But I had no support back then about going into theatre like I was cajoled into doing by my college friends, outside of college. 

Except of course my oldest brother, he did try to encourage that, but when you have a mother who tells you, you’re not doing that and won’t let me go out to do it, what can I do?

My brother took me to the theatre once a month over a four year period, I enjoyed it a lot and I miss it a lot since moving in with Paul.  I made friends at the theatre and they asked me to join them behind the scenes and learn about it, when they knew I did drama as a side subject in college – but I told them I couldn’t do that, because my mother would have a problem with it.

In fact, most of my life before I moved in with Paul, my mother was bought up a lot socially – because she had such tight control over my life.  I couldn’t even say, yeah, sure I’ll go to the pub and have lunch with you at lunch break to my colleagues – because my mum had set me a packed lunch and if that wasn’t eaten she’d be furious, but that’s not all – she’d sometimes sit in her car outside my place of work anticipating things like this might happen.

I know it sounds unbelievable, but really, she was that controlling!

But anyway – she is out of my life now and I have friends who know about my past, the drama classes and they know that my son goes to the performing arts school up here and they are trying to talk me into approaching the Rugby Theatre, even if it’s just helping to make props – just to get me out a bit more, now I am getting a little better again.

I don’t want to act though, not now, I am not body confident.  But prop making would be fun!

Henry is getting into the idea of acting a lot now, because he is interested in playing in Matilda.  The school is helping him a lot with that and recently an actress has seen Henry and has suggested, depending on Henry’s audition next year, that she may actually sponsor Henry for outside of school drama classes to help him along as she runs a charity for underprivileged children who is interested in the craft. 

Henry also wanted to be a child model, but Paul won’t support that as he is afraid it will interfere with his schooling.

Henry is very upset about that, because Henry wants to work ASAP and he keeps asking – he knows I will support him, but he also knows I won’t do anything behind Paul’s back.

Thanks for reading…

Tree is up

Well the Christmas tree has been put up and the lights are on it, but we haven’t put anything else on it yet and nor have we done anything else anywhere else around the house – why?  Because I am not in top form, a chest infection started a couple of days back and my insomnia is worse over it.

One good thing about it though is that it is not Covid, just the regular winter bronchitis I think.

I am just not functioning right now – it’s cold around the house and I am stuck in one room because it’s warmer there.

Even if I did venture downstairs, now the Christmas tree is up I couldn’t access my desktop computer if I wanted to and I won’t be able to until January 5^th now.

So here I am, stuck in my bedroom every day between now and then.

I can’t say I am thrilled about it.

Life was boring before this but now it’s almost got to the point of… why exactly do I exist again?

Thanks for reading.

Life of a cold dragon

Today I wished I had the stuff I need to wear cosmetics and dress up real nice – I don’t know why but today I woke up thinking, you know what?  I want to be a glamour queen today!

Instead however, because it’s Sunday and nobody is doing anything, I am just in scruffy lounge wear, wearing baggy pink fluffy cardigans and looking like I have just woke up – cuddling my cardigan to myself and wishing I had a different life!

Eating beef stew and a side of string beans, drinking a chocolate protein shake and wondering if that’s all I am having today?  It seems likely actually – I am not gaining any appetite and it’s been like this for weeks now!

Barely having more than 1200 calories on a good day – not good, not good at all!

However, I am flattening up a lot in the tummy area despite being disappointed by my triceps – I am very self-conscious about those actually… but I am trying my hardest to figure things out!

Still sticking to the two a day green tea with cinnamon and turmeric idea and freezing myself a bit to see if it all works – but it’s tough sitting around in the cold, when I like to be snug and warm and live in the temperature fit for a dragon!

I just need to think in a different dragon kind of way… an ice dragon… lol

I was raised in a household that from November the thermostat is permanently on 30c that’s 86F – since living with Paul our thermostat is set at 21.5c which is 70.7F and to me that’s always made the house too cold for me – but I am getting used to it.  My mum would always have windows opened with the thermostat that high too – totally insane, she was not the worst in the family – my maternal grandma was crazy enough to have the heating on in the height of summer!

So, is there any wonder then that Paul sees me as some kind of pampered fire dragon?

Though to be honest I hate it when it’s hotter than 24c/75f but I definitely hate it when it’s cooler than 21.5c/70.7f too!

All day long I have had this song stuck in my head “catch a falling star” by Perry Como – such a pretty song and I keep getting art ideas for it, but I don’t have supplies to make it and the art table is being used for something else these days which makes just doing art at random a chore, because I need to clear up for twenty minutes before I can do it – that also means move stuff from around the table, just so I can access it!

Going to be quiet from the 30^TH November to potentially the 3^rd December, because I have to be the one to sort the house out so we can have Christmas decorations up – if I don’t do it, it doesn’t get done and there is a chance this house won’t have decorations at Christmas if I don’t!

Every year when I have to do this, I tend to get ill during or after I have finished the decorating because of the amount of dust that gets into the air with the old decorations and moving furniture around – because nobody helps me keep on top of things here!  I have a severe dust allergy and often get chest infections around this time! 

To boot, I have a bruised ankle and it hurts when I walk on it.

Paul puts the decorations away every year, but I have to put them up – this means that no decorations are cleaned before putting away, like they would have been if I had put them away – but sometimes the chest infection is so bad I am off my feet until late January!

Thanks for reading!

Freeze treatment & spicy green tea

Universeodon is taking some getting used to, I don’t know how to find my followers or find things in general – but I am getting the hang of it, like I am trying to get the hang of other things too.

Such as, learning how to accept being cold and encouraging myself to sit around literally freezing my butt off, because I heard that it helps you lose weight faster by producing more brown fat rather than the horrible kind which makes you fat.

Brown fat reputedly makes you lose weight, did my own research on it and all you need is to sit around in temperatures below 19c  66.2F and eat or drink regularly the following – green tea (which I do twice a day anyway) turmeric, propolis, cinnamon and apples as a main thing – amongst others.  Oh and B5 supplements or B5 rich foods also helps with this, apparently. 

I am in pain if temperatures are under 21.5c seriously, because of my arthritis – but we all have to suffer for the sake of beauty and goals!  Anyway, I noticed the cold doesn’t hurt so much if I drink the spiced up green tea about half an hour before cold exposure, which helps! 

So I am seeing if I would lose weight faster by taking on these new simple steps, it will take two weeks to see an effect apparently, so two weeks of suffering the cold before my body regulates its own temperature.  I am not doing well with the cold, I am shivering and resorting to my fluffiest cardigans again and again, which defeats the object! 

I know when I was slimmer I was crazy enough to regularly have cold showers, but here that’s no longer an option because back in 2015 when the shower broke down, Paul hasn’t been able to fix it. 

I had the showers because I thought it was healthy for the heart to expose myself like that to the cold, also it improved my hair and skin.

I bought a new shower, but it’s been stuck in the box since 2016 and he doesn’t show any signs of helping fix that up.  So I have had to tolerate baths all the time and that means my skin has been suffering due to lack of regular exfoliation and shea butter treatments I used to do to myself.

Washing myself down twice a day at the basin is really not my idea of hygiene but until that shower is fixed, I have no choice, especially as baths use way too much water – so I have those every two days, again it’s not my cup of tea!  I miss my twice a day showers!

So I am freezing my butt off literally… drinking two cups of turmeric and cinnamon infused green tea a day, keeping to my high protein diet and trying to keep the house tidy enough for me to exercise in – but I am confined to a place I don’t like exercising in… the bedroom – because nobody respects what mama wants and needs to do in this house!

Still people are using my exercise bike as a glorified hat, coat and shoe stand and that really pisses me off!

Like today I finally cleared an area and was about to put my mat down to start exercising and Paul gets the vacuum out, he never does that unless asked!  So that idea was cancelled.

I sometimes wonder if it’s all deliberate, as Paul will suddenly become super-efficient when I am busy trying to do something in an area.  If I did nothing all day, neither does he!

Is this in my head or is he really up to what I think he is?

He tells me he supports me being happy anyway possible – but he does these things to stop me…

Whatever, all I know is I am getting sick of it, more than you know!

Something has got to change or else I am going to scream louder than the family banshee!

But hey, looking on the bright side of the heat or eat crisis!

Thanks for reading!

About my deafness

I think it was a 48 hour cold, though I am still a bit chesty but I am getting over it faster than I usually do – perhaps maintaining this high protein diet has helped?  I don’t know, but I do know that along with that I primarily drink water, green tea or lemonade instead of Pepsi and coffees these days.

I have been very tired and I feel as though I should sleep a lot, because I sense something is going to happen soon where I will be on my feet a lot of the time and I won’t have time to dilly dally anymore and laze around.

I haven’t a clue why my instinct is telling me, get all the sleep you can right now so you can be prepared for what’s coming!

I just hope it’s not going to be too much for me, whatever it is!

I have been bed and housebound sick for eight years now and it has only really been since Easter that I have managed to do approximately 45 minutes away from a chair at any one time.  What the blazes is coming into my life?

Whatever it is, I hope I ease into it and not get exhausted by it!

I really can’t think what it can be.

Puzzling, but my instincts are to be trusted, because I’ve ignored them in the past and I have been very sorry about it too!

But I have had this feeling about sleeping a lot for two weeks now.  But I hate sleep.

I have never been a person who loves their bed; unless there is some sort of activity going on if you get my drift?

I find it hard to sleep more than six hours unless I am unwell, simply because I am paranoid about missing out on something or not doing something I want to do.

In any case, I am glad things aren’t getting worse.  I was getting worried last night because two huge zits appeared on my face and I thought I might have had some kind of pox, monkey pox or something – but it was just the two and I seem to feel ok.  They are embarrassing though, not used to getting zits in that particular place of the face, weird!  Though upon reflection two nights ago I had an unusual amount of dairy in my diet for me – fatty foods can do that!

I am not happy about being requested to sleep more, but there you go. 

I also wanted to point out that I am deaf as many of you know – but I am not a signer.  I thought I had better put that out there as someone indicated they were worried about not being able to communicate with me offline.  I am fine, just follow these rules;

I can’t hear you if your back is turned away from me.

I can’t hear you if you cover your mouth.

I can’t hear you if you stand to my right – my right ear is completely dead and can’t have a hearing aid there.

Stand to my left and face me when you talk to me as I have a hearing aid sometimes – I don’t need it all the time as my left ear hearing fluctuates a lot due to the auto-immune inner ear problem I have.

Let me read your lips

Don’t take me to places that echo as the vibrations get distorted and I get disoriented and anxious.

You don’t need to sign for me, because I don’t understand it much.

But if I can’t wear a hearing aid because of infection in the left ear, you may need to shout or use a mini white board!

I am eligible for a hearing dog, but I don’t have one.

I can’t use a phone unless it’s very loud or on loud speaker – preferably a zoom call or something is better for me if there is no lag – for lip reading!

I rely on hearing people to take phone calls on my behalf, as a lot of places in authority and finance do not have alternatives for the deaf, yet – which is bloody disgusting!

On a positive note, when I get 10k – if I ever get 10k I can have surgery to repair my hearing in the right ear, all I need are ossicles, little bones to help vibrate sound and a new tympanic membrane.

Thanks for reading!