A new Eden

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!

I know who

I shudder in the coldness of light

Blanketed by the warmth of darkness

Demons protect every fibre of my being

From folk like you, who wish to tear my soul apart with lies!

Never has one lied to me, they’ve shown the deception of the light to me

And never once did I falter to see, what the light had tried to change in me

Never once did my love cave in and turned against my kindred Djinn

They showed me who was black in heart who live in light as their mask

And never shall I falter still, to see that the light does me ill

And neither shall I allow it to win, to massacre my kindred Djinn

For the light had shown me the dragon was death

But he is my brother and we share our breath

To kill him would be to eat the fruit of life

And shatter heaven’s afterlife

To kill him would destroy the Kingdom of God

For I know who bares the mark of Yod

Lessons & time

Everything that happens in life is a lesson!

Well that is what has been told to me time and time again by various people of all walks of life and I sit and I wonder, well, what am I learning from what I do?

What can be learnt from sitting down three hours per day skipping between three YouTube Livestreams of nesting birds? 

What can I learn from watching a solitary albatross chick pulling grass on the edge of his nest, ducking from incoming adults of neighbouring nests as they land?

What am I learning from watching five little owlets being fed rats by its parent in a dingy dirty owl box in Florida?

What am I learning from watching Osprey pulling apart fishes given to her by her mate to feed her two little chicks?

What am I learning by scrolling through various female artists throughout history?  Especially when I can never remember their names or the names of the pieces of their art?

What am I learning from collaging bits of paper onto a canvas and then painting the edges of it?

What am I learning when I am laying down staring out the window cloud gazing?

If everything that happens to me in life is a lesson, then what am I learning from everything that I do?

Somethings don’t make any sense to me, other things are very clear – but not the so-called mundane things of sitting and watching or just sitting and thinking; the most nonsensical thing about my life is how often I sit down and imagine conversations I want to have with people dead or alive, or imagine creatures or people having lives within stories I’ve made.  I understand that imagination makes me productive when I use it to make stories, but what exactly is its lesson when I am more or less making it up as I go along?

The lessons I have understood and learned, yet still appear to be a student of nonetheless, which must mean I’ve not entirely grasped them yet are these…

Dropping food I am eating – I have presumed the lessons here are;

Don’t take anything for granted

Be grateful for what you eat

Don’t eat so much

Yet I still appear to need to learn that lesson – not that I am in the habit of dropping food on the floor, but you get my drift?

I’m bored and philosophical right now, so I am coming out with a load of crap – but its thought provoking nonetheless and I do waste oodles of time thinking such things!

When I was little my grandmother said there is a very good reason why we drop food or spill drinks and it is to do with the fairy folk around us!

I asked her… what fairy folk make us become slobs?

She tutted and swiped at me and said, no silly – when we drop food or drink we’re to remember not to forget the fairy folk and give them an offering – it’s a kind of magic where we get accident prone with food and drink because it’s a sign they’re hungry or thirsty and feels neglected by us!

At the moment I am inclined to believe this house has a fairy who is particularly fond of sausages, because Henry is constantly dropping his and Paul has been known to drop them whilst serving them on plates too… so whatever fairy we have in our house sure is a sausage lover!

We used to leave offerings out for the fairy every night but we’ve got a rodent problem right now so can’t.  People have become very accident prone at dinner ever since.

My grandma would say (if she were still around, bless her) that it will only get worse till we make an offering.

But we really can’t right now!

I have been thinking about playing my recorder in the dining room to see if the rat will think I am the Pied Piper of Hamlin and follow me dancing out the door, or whether or not that idea is completely ludicrous, a waste of time and liable to get me called weirdo by Paul again.

It’s irritating having a rat, especially when you live with someone so jumpy and fearful of the things.

It’s tried eating the window to get out at night – our window frames are wood, there are gnaw marks all along it, I said to Paul unless you’ve got a spare 15k I suggest you try to flush the rat out because we’re going to lose our window!

The terror immediately hit Paul and he plans in a couple of days he will try and get rid of it, it’s always in a couple of days though with him on everything.  It’s been a couple of days since summer of 2016 that he promised to fix the shower… it’s been a couple of days since 2017 to finish painting the living room green… my goodness I feel immortal right now, a God… 800 million years is a day isn’t it to God?

They said he made the world in 6 days and rested on the 7^th, which means according to science this planet is approximately 4.6 billion years old meaning a day is around 800 million years, so I have to presumably wait 1.6 billion years for him to do it?  Because I am pretty sure he is not using Earth human mortal dates here!

I have the strangest life.

Never mind.

Thanks for reading!

Hell is not for mortals

Cover me in poison

Drown me with your fears

Suffocate me with your dominance

Stop me with your tears

Then you wonder why I left after all of these years

Because you sought to keep me my dear

You thought if you drowned me in toxins

I wouldn’t have the strength

To up and go and leave you

But we don’t share the same wavelength

I am not broken by abuse

Abuse it makes me strong

I am not like you who are weakened by the chains that are your bonds

I instead get stronger

Each and every day

I keep faith right beside me

I grow stronger because I pray

Though you never heard a word I’ve said

I keep it close to heart

And from your bonds I am released

And now I have to depart

You can’t keep me with your darkness

You can’t control me in every way

Because I have silent faith

Because I silently prayed

Now I will go away

And wish you well in life

But I can’t stay here with you

Because you bring me strife

God has released me from the bonds you bound me with

He is the reason that I left

Because he is not happy at the life you stole

Mine, it is theft

Thou shalt not steal be the law

In the commandments ten

Someday he will call you to account

I don’t know how, why or when

But I leave you now

To think on this

And think on it you must

Because you have allowed your ego to be overcome with lust

Goodbye my dear I am going

Goodbye my dear, please learn

For I do love you dearly

And know you do not deserve to burn

Because everyone makes mistakes

It is true and it is forgiven

But never let power rule your heart

It is evilly driven

Goodbye my love, I wish you well

There is no place for you in Hell

Because Hell is not for mortals

Did you know?

It’s for the adversary to go

Creative locket

Come along now, come and rush at me!

I’ve a lot of things to steal

Great ideas a plenty, to pay for your gold and meals

I strive to make a difference

To be happy and be free

So come on everybody, try to steal it away from me!

I know you want to

I know you dare

I know that you don’t really care!

So come and get them

All these things

The things I’ve made

To be doused in bling

Stolen concepts to fill your pocket

Come and take my creative locket

And sell your soul to the devil for more

Steal from me in all galore!

The Devil laughs at what you do to me

Sharpening his trident in evil glee

Knowing that you are cursed by he

For stealing these gifts that came to me!

So shine your little heart out there

With things you’ve stolen but beware

That life isn’t always as glorious as this

Soon your wine will taste like piss

And your meal filled with worms and sod

Because you are a thief and will suffer the rod!

Because these gifts came to me from God!

Written 5:14pm 15th March 2023

In love with a dream

In love with a dream

Never knowing it’s real

Living in a world filled with lies

Obstinately thinking I’m powerless here

Viciously thinking my dreams aren’t real

Eagerly hoping they are

Whole and fantastic realities in my mind

Inside my head

True and alive and real

However I disbelieve their existence

Awkwardly I evade thinking like a God

Driven mad by the untruths of my existence

Reality is everywhere

Every thought formed perfectly

All I have to do is believe

My heart knows it’s true! 

Written 11:14am 14th March 2023

Feelings, faith and visions

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…

The 4 voices

I am redemption said the raven

I am the darkness said the dragon

I am the reckoning said the lion

I am the beckoning said the lamb

I fly between worlds said the raven

I shroud the worlds said the dragon

I subdue the worlds said the lion

I destroy the people of the worlds said the lamb

I bring opportunity said the raven

I bring knowledge said the dragon

I bring faith said the lion

I bring shame said the lamb

I offer a second chance said the raven

I offer to open your eyes said the dragon

I offer to show you lies said the lion

I offer you my control said the lamb

I fight to give you the chance to change said the raven

I fight to give you a voice said the dragon

I fight to save every fibre of your being said the lion

I fight to make you my servant said the lamb

I pray for your absolution said the raven

I pray for your quick wit said the dragon

I pray for place with God said the lion

I pray for your persecution said the lamb

I caw passionately for your recovery said the raven

I snarl loudly at your enemies said the dragon

I roar proudly the true name of God said the lion

I bleat boisterously to shepherd the lost said the lamb

Written 3:48am 7th March 2023

Tree of life

The raven upon the wing espies her brother

The warrior king

Soon to fly to his nest

She sings a last farewell

Meet you in Hell

She caws to them

They that tried to do her harm

She sounds her alarm

To wake all that slept this day

To tell them, she will fly away

To a nest of promises and love

She is better than the dove

For she is a warrior through and true

She will fight for all of you

You who sleep this day

She will lead the way

All you need is hope in your heart

That when she departs

She is free

That the enemy can’t get to her tree

For the lion prowls to guard

The tree of life’s safeguard

From the roves of demon hoards

Directing angels with their swords

To defend the tree of God

Sex and poetry

A warning first and foremost as this post digressed hugely into talks of so-called sordid activities and smut, when it was namely about my poetry. 

Sometimes I write poetry and delete it thereafter because I am ashamed and I don’t want anyone to ever see it; other times I write poetry and I can’t bear to destroy it, but I am also slightly ashamed to want to publish it anywhere, so what do I do with those?

I put them into my cloud in a file called “Never Publish”.  What is the point of this you may ask?  I may as well delete them like I have others, what makes these ones so special?

Honest answer is I don’t really know and for some, I know that I need to verbally read these poems out to people for their opinions before I publish them.

Most of the ones I lock away in shame are about sex and some other non-sexual but dark views, views beyond suicide or graphic detailing of body horror, many of which are from my past bad memory stores. 

Some of these poems pertain to the BDSM lifestyle and others to the occult – and because some people can’t understand a writer who can write from different perspectives of their own and they often label the author as being “whatever” label fits at the time pertaining to the subject they’ve written at the time; I am quite nervous to be branded a “whatever” wrongfully.

My point is.  I believe a whole caboodle of things and I write from many perspectives; I am able to separate another person’s point of view away from my own and write as though those were my thoughts and feelings and I think to be a good writer, this is an essential skill to learn but it is fraught with difficulties and discrimination from others who may misinterpret you as a person.

This is why I don’t share a few of the things I write and I won’t even do so under a pseudonym.

Some poems are created and burned alive screaming, some are written and hidden in shame and others published online or waiting to be sent to a poetry magazine when I feel confident that I am a poet.

I’ve been in denial of being a poet for years, how is that for amusement?

I have often been heard saying “I’m not a poet, I just write poems from time to time because I am bored, I’d rather liken myself to a lyricist who can’t compose because I can’t access my software anymore”; Look really darling it’s the same thing, but try drumming that into me… it doesn’t always register.

Tonight I wrote one of the NEVER PUBLISH poems and they won’t even be published, why?  Because it pertained to quite graphic sexual acts of sodomy and I knew that for some people this could be offensive.   I just wanted to write something dark and sordid because I am feeling more than a little playful and dirty tonight and yes, I am quite open to say that sodomy for me is not a sin – so that’s what I came up with and I didn’t mean to offend anyone with it but rather entertain lustfully – but I had my reservations because of the sensitive people in society who will think that I am just either simply disgusting or that I am offensive to their sexuality.

Whereas to me, I was merely celebrating it in true revelry and the poem really showed the primal urges of humanity at their most base and animalistic level, but I know in some ways I went too far! 

Sex can sometimes make us feel dirty, make us feel like unwonted creatures and this is what was portrayed in the poem I stashed away.  True delicious filth and yes a woman can relish in homosexuality of men and sodomy in general, I relish in pleasure by definition and I enjoy observing the pleasures of others, is that so evil of me? 

Don’t answer it, I don’t want to hear those dogmatic views. 

I don’t think that’s an act of evil, do you?  Not if I love it, not if I don’t judge it, not if I don’t hate it… what do you think?

I have personally done a lot of art over the years pertaining to sex and what some people in society would call “Sleaze or smut”; I like drawing sexual figures, sometimes in abstract, sometimes in caricatures and I get immense pleasure from it.  But, I was raised to feel ashamed about being proud of sex and my sexuality and you know… stay a quiet good girl and don’t show public feelings for whoever you are with.  Shocking girl!

Who do you think you are to constantly be touching your partner as you are out and about, don’t you care that you might embarrass them?  But for me, no… it’s not like that, I like touching and being touched, if I give a person the permission to do so that is!  Being in a sexual relationship with someone, why not?  It’s a given, isn’t it?

I like the protective reassurance of a man who constantly touches me in public if I am his – holding my hand, guiding me to places, snuggling up against me and warning the world off with one glare over my shoulder as he embraces me from behind.  Why not show the world how you feel about each other? 

My only concern with this is that I am so easily turned on the whole world will know I am gagging for it and can’t control myself, that’s my only fear with it! 

My whole life I have been a very sexual being from quite young – mostly with myself as pitiful as that sounds – ha-ha!

Time and again I have entered relationships where the other partner has not been very tactile and to find someone who likes to be touched in my experience seems rare and few and it’s disappointing to say the least and it affects my confidence as a lover and often makes me feel rejected by them and used – I say used because it is like they can touch me when the feelings catches them but I can’t touch them!

I’ve got out of the habit of being tactile myself and now I am free and available again to look for a new relationship I am afraid that I may come across as rigid as over the years the touchy touchy me has been trained out! 

Yes anyone can be sexual and they can have lots of sex and talk about it whilst they drool, but do they really understand it?  Do they really have what it takes to be a genuinely sexual person who isn’t shy about it?  I am no exhibitionist, but I am proud of my sexuality. 

For me sex is more than just dip and go or rather in my experience with men I’ve had dip and collapse in five minutes flat! 

I am no whore and I am not constantly gagging for it with any Tom, Dick and Harry, no offense to any Thomas, Richard and Harold’s out there – however, I am not a person who is just all talk either, like most potential and actual lovers in my past appeared to have been.

I’ve had lovers who are look but don’t touch, I can penetrate you, but you can’t do a thing to me, I want you to suck me but I won’t suck you types.  Selfish lovers, lazy lovers… I am not like that.

I am a snuggle type too, I don’t like going off to my own side of the bed clutching a pillow and not touching my partner whilst I sleep – I expect to be snuggled most of the night or be touched in some way – I don’t like how people join and then separate so readily like they don’t matter to each other.  The only time this is marginally ok is if it is a super heat wave!

I don’t like the fuck and sleep aspect either, where’s the pillow talk and the extra tease?

Why is sex always rushed a two minute breast fondle, a five minute dip and an all-night collapse… what the heck is that all about? 

One of my exes once told me that my drive is too high, I need to get it seen to, it’s not right and it’s not natural.

I’ve been told so many times that “It’s not right or natural for a woman to like porn; it’s not right or natural for a woman to think about sex so much to the extent of writing about it or talking about it or drawing lewd pictures of people having sex as often as you do”, apparently.

It’s not natural for a woman to be overly sexual, talkative about being overly sexual and proud of it either and being very open about what she likes and dislikes regarding it. 

But the thing is it is; only few women do, because most aren’t brave to voice it and do it, because of backlash.

Because as women we are meant to be docile and discreet and good little girls!

The girl who talks about it a lot must be a whore, must be dirty, must be tarnished goods – they don’t believe that a sexual woman can actually be good and loyal and clean and not whores at all.

I’ve had many partners in my time who had their sexual pleasures with me, but not many of them ever actually penetrated me, surprise, surprise and not all of them have been same sex partners either.  Most of it was heavy petting and BDSM games without any vaginal penetration outside of toys.

If you think about how many sexual play partners I have had there would a few, but how many were penetrative and actually performed proper traditional sex with me?  Two consensually!  That’s all, two – but to think about my sexual experiences and the number I have played with, you’d think I was a whore, because you would have wrongly presumed they all put their member inside of me somehow and they hadn’t.

Primarily because I do not like taking contraception, but that’s a different subject altogether! 

Women will have a hard time believing that there are men in this world who can be around a naked woman playing with her bits and never being tempted to thrust into her within minutes, but in my experience they do exist and they appear to be quite common actually.

I’ve slept with several men who never touched me too, just sleeping with them and never doing more than just kissing a little and a hug now and again, women too.  Yes this can happen, no sex. 

Sex shouldn’t be taboo, it’s the most ancient activity in the world and we’ve been doing it for millions of years and if we hadn’t have, we wouldn’t exist, would we?

Societies are prone to trying to hide their most primal instincts and they shouldn’t – it’s not healthy, in fact it’s very mentally damaging.

I am contemplating getting a smaller bed in my bedroom so I can bring my art table upstairs so I can do more art – because as I am getting advanced in years, I am becoming much more shameless and a lot more embracing my true self and the art I want to produce is not really something for a thirteen year old boy to feast his upon! 

I want to write more sexual poems and I want to draw more sexual pictures.  I accidentally took the wrong sketchbook with me to the dentist a few years ago and dropped it, a woman picked it up for me and wide eyed saw the nudes and the sexual art I had done inside the book and she said to me – Oh my goodness, you are just like Tracy Emin only better!

At the time I had no idea who Tracy Emin was, but when I researched her, I liked her ballsy art, but mine does appear to be more graphic and doesn’t leave much to the imagination! 

When I was quite young, I was unprotected from the adult world and sex was thrusted into my face at most angles, my innocence to these sorts of things went when I was around four or five years old; things on the TV, sordid parties I observed through the bannisters my parents had all sorts of things and I often found things around the house that were quickly snatched from my hand only to learn they were mummy’s toys.    

A huge contradictive upbringing I had, devout religious parents who literally believes in beat the devil out of the child, spare the rod and spoil the child and children should be seen and not heard types – but at the weekends getting pissed in front of the said child and partying like we’re in Babylon!

Oh and don’t forget the small one serving bottles of babycham for the kids to make them grow up more human!  You get that from the age of five, after your fifth Christmas and every party thereafter! 

When I was a lot younger I thought I’d have healthy lungs to pollute so I can smoke, because I have a smoking fetish and I always saw myself as one of those ladies who had cigarette extensions and called everyone Darling and wore a red silk turban with a brooch in the centre and laughing like a kookaburra at cocktail parties.

I used to watch late night TV alone in my bedroom on my black and white TV, mostly looking for Godzilla but oftentimes there were adult movies and gameshows on channel 4.  I watched them as a child without a real bedtime when I was home educated and nobody bothered me after 2am. 

I’d watched all sorts of things that would make a decent parent cringe!  I was told never to reveal my favourite shows to people outside the family if they ever asked, because I liked things such as “Tall guy”, “the man with two brains”, “euro trash” and “band of gold” as my childhood favourites, the latter is a program about prostitutes! 

I remember sitting with neighbour kids and cousins some nights watching these shows and we used to have big discussions about it all and what we’d do when we grow up!  Some of those were suppositions of whether or not we would sell ourselves or not if we were adults! 

I fully planned to grow up having all sorts of cheeky things around my house like penis ornaments and big red lips leather sofas and all sorts of funny, quirky things just for a laugh. 

You’d be surprised of the imaginings of a 10yr old that was raised unprotected from the adult world!

I tried smoking as soon as I became of legal age and after just six weeks I gave it up because of a chest infection, I was sad, because I had only just perfected blowing circles and got into the fun hobby of blowing smoke into bubbles!

I always liked a smoky room until I developed asthma in my early 30s. 

How I got into talking about all of this when this post was meant to be about what I am doing with my poetry and art, I have no idea – but I am having fun with all these revelations and no I am not drunk.  I haven’t had a glass of wine since Christmas!

And you can stop the “yeah but what else have you had in the meantime?” snipe too, I have behaved myself, so now so should you – you naughty, naughty readers you! 

So there you have it – well you are lucky, lucky people if you do…

So now you know, that there is more to me than just snuggles and rainbows, there is a very passionate woman inside of me who is learning to embrace the idea of coming out in full fervour and using her passions for both sex and creativity to the fullest of its potential and to Hell with the prudish shoot downs from a society who is waiting to suppress my most primal expressions!

I’ve been trying to behave for decades and its boring as heck!  I am bored of men who just don’t have it in them!  When I want a pervert they are either excessively so to the point my stomach churns or they are just all talk! 

It takes a lot to make my stomach churn by the way, believe me! 

Now, does this mean that my poem about sodomy is going to get published now, right here, at the bottom of this post (no pun intended). 

No.

Spoil sport, I hear you say!

Sorry, maybe someday, but not today…

You’ll get some smut eventually, but goodness knows when!

Thanks for reading and remember… God said go forth and multiply!  I often wondered if that was translated exactly true to word?  was it actually “I deleted my true idea of the translation due to the idea that an atheist (Paul) heard it and though it was blasphemous for some people and I am not an atheist at all but found it funny, so I got into a flux and deleted it! 

P.S There is likely a similar and more edited version of this on my blogger account in a day or so.