A soulless tragedy

In my heart and mind I am many things

Which I’m not you see

Because I only act a little part of me

For people don’t like others who are bright and bold and brave

Who think they are better people

So they seek to berate and scathe

Yet look inside my heart and soul and you will surely see

All the people locked inside, the people who are truly me!

I am an empress and I rule with an iron might

My tongue commands great armies and send enemies into flight

But I am also a bird that flies up high and it is truly free

To sing any song she wishes, who dares to silence me?

I am the wind which blows at you, air both hot and cold

And sweeps you off your feet sometimes and lose my self-control

And like an angel I am mild and meek, I will care with tender love

And often I will mediate for peace just like the blessed dove

I am a monster and I am fierce, you don’t want to bother me

And I shall tickle you with bites, just like a little flea

I am flash and I am loud, yet I am dull and quiet too

I am many people you know and don’t, you really have no clue

For I am hidden within myself, I am ashamed you see

To show you who I really am

And what I could be

Though mostly I am a creator

I make worlds with words and paint

I create people and creatures too and I do so without restraint

I create vast worlds for your mind to explore

And all I wish for you is for you to adore

And live within these worlds of mine within your very mind

And love it with all your heart and inspiration find

So you too can create like me, your own little universe

And write good poems, songs and stories and a little verse

So you can feel important too and like you have a place

And ignore all the haters who try to stop you with disgrace

Because one thing that is true and clear

The arts are important my dear

For without it we inhuman be

And soulless we will live in tragedy

And never more shall we love each little gem we find

For our hearts will be black and cold

Because we’ve lost our mind

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…

5 movies that made me cry

Bambi

I think most people would put this one down in their list, if they are sensitive to animals and loving nature etc.  So this just speaks for itself really.

Paulie

I love the movie Paulie it is in my top 100 all-time favourite movies, but it is emotionally hard going for me.  The poor little blue crowned parakeet, had a tough little life, but initially his life was good, he loved a little girl with severe speech impediment and helped her along.  But then one day her father came home from the army and demanded the bird be sent away, because he was getting the girl into dangerous trouble. 

The bird goes from person to person over many years and always, his personal goal was to go back and find his little Marie, the little girl he always loved.  The movie has all sorts of drama and adventures in it for the little parakeet; some are hard going for an animal lover like me.  But I loved this movie nonetheless, but if you are like me, you must expect a whole host of different emotions throughout the movie consistently and it is a big rollercoaster ride, let me tell you! 

Marley and Me

This is the most recent movie I have watched that made me cry, I watched it only a few days ago, it was the first movie I had watched in four months.  Again, an animal made me cry!  I just can’t stand sad movies where animals die!  But I keep watching them anyway, because my most favourite kind of movies is those with animals as main characters, children or vampires.  So, yeah, quite contrasted mixes!

Bram Stoker’s Dracula

Look, I know you are confused here right now, but you really have to know me, in order to know why this cuts me up big time!  I just find some vampire movies very romantic, with this whole, reincarnation and love re-discovered concept and how people are willing to literally sell their souls for love.  I know, it’s screwy, but stop being judgemental here, we’re all different right? 

I cried when Dracula died and she was clasping at him broken hearted and in a catch 22 situation where she was literally torn between the dark and the light side; the best for her and the worst for her.  Being wholly human and experiencing as many emotions as a person can possibly handle all at once, all the for the sake of having to choose which love to love and which love to let go.  Yeah, I’m weird, who cares?

I.T (1990)

I can’t even watch this one for five minutes before my tears start!  Little baby Georgie, that was so gruesome and I have to admit, I very nearly didn’t watch the rest of the movie because of it.  I just hate that scene, yes; I watched the movie before I read the book when I was 15.  If I could magically jump into the TV and save the kid I would have… violently!  But I am sucker for being shocked and disgusted and for pushing my own boundaries in an oftentimes vain attempt to try and harden myself up to the worst aspects of humanity.

The amount of times I have often gone back to the scene in my head and it is me who is mind fucking the clown to death, not him getting away with it!

This is what I love about Stephen King though; he knows how dark reality really is and he doesn’t shelter his readers from it like some other more (supposedly) considerate horror authors.  There is no nannying when he writes.  Sometimes the vocabulary is vulgar as is in life, people are vulgar as in life, things get twisted, as in life, it is all real, it is brutally real his stuff, despite it being fictional, the general concepts are real things.  Death, brutality and murder, war, disease is not a pretty thing and should not be romanticised at all, he does this wonderfully, he takes the poetry out of death and that is good, because it shouldn’t be glamorised!

You get authors who write about TB for example and they gentle tell you about the coughing of blood in the tissue like they are dying elegantly; But if Stephen King were to write it, he would talk about the ear hacking coughs, the phlegm and the retching of the patient and the dribble down their chin stained with coarse dark blood and their loved ones, scared for their relative, recoiling and choking on the smell oozing from their loved one.  That sort of thing and that is good writing, it is realistic! Who wants TB glamorised gently?  Aren’t books supposed to be educational?  Stephen King definitely gives you an education!

But yeah, generally, my heart breaks when a kid or an animal dies in movies.  I even cry for some monsters because they are misunderstood, not Pennywise though, but I have cried for a couple of King’s monsters.  Lol.

Sunday word count 3

This week’s grand total of writing towards my novels is…

2500 words to be exact!

You what?  I normally write that amount in a day!  True, true, but not this week, this week has been a hard week all round for the family.  So therefore I inevitably got to go to…

THE WALL OF SHAME!

Says some random booming monstrous voice from goodness knows where!

“Yes and I feel so ashamed”.  Said the author of this blog with a huffy laugh and without any hint of conviction in her words;

I didn’t get anywhere near as good as I did in the first week of doing this, let alone my minimum of 10,000 words as you can clearly see. 

Here are the words spread out throughout the week so you can see how much or how little I wrote on any one day;

4^th of August – 784 words, quite bad really.

5^th August – 0 words – you what?  Call yourself a writer? But the books over there look so pretty, so inviting!

6^th August – 811 words – better, but not great, in fact quite awful actually, but not as awful as Sunday’s count.

7^th August – 0 words – what again?  What act procrastination doth thou blame this on?  The shiny books?

8^th August – 196 words – Oh you are really going to get writer’s cramp with that amount aren’t you?  Rolls eyes*

9^th August – 0 words – can you have zero words?  Evidently you can, there is no words to describe how awful a writing (if you can call it that) day like this is!

10^th August – 709 words – Yes, good, but I won’t praise myself too much here because this week was utterly disgusting as far as being a writer goes!

The overview is that this is a shockingly terrible week and whoever thinks they are a writer, writing like this ought to completely revalue if they are really a writer or not?

Well I would say to the over viewer (which is myself, so technically I am speaking – no arguing with myself here) is this; I am a writer, however school holidays make dedication to work difficult when I choose to write in the living room, not shutting myself off from the entire world.  Family is important to me, contrary to what certain cretins might say about that!  Not to mention that this past week I have set myself a challenge to read ten enormous books by the 23^rd August, so therefore I am reading much more than I normally do and it has also been a bad week for depression; a very bad week in fact for depression.

I have a lot of worries about people that I love too.  Paul has been having difficulties this week as he has injured his arm, I found out recently that my cousin is in hospital for heart problems and he is the only cousin I can trust to emotionally support me in my time of need, the only person in my family other than my immediate household in which I trust has good and non-judgemental intentions towards me.  Also my aunt has been battling cancer for two years now and as much as people think I don’t batter an eyelid, I try not to dramatise anything about others and pretty much keep my thoughts and feeling to myself regarding their problems.  But I am finding that difficult lately and people really don’t know how much I do care about them, because I never turn their problems into my own personal dramas like most people tend to.  Often this makes me come across as aloof and uncaring, but I actually care very deeply about people who are related to me or within my social circle, more than they know, I am just not very good at showing support or love for them and I am sorry for that.  You see in the past I have been accused of being too loving or caring to the point of weirdness and then not enough and so I feel I can’t ever get the balance right, so recently, I guess I don’t even try anymore.  Sorry.  Also I have learned that someone in my family has made a decision to move far away from supportive relatives and isolate themselves and I know that they don’t socialise outside of the family at all and they are very vulnerable due to their disabilities and they are elderly and this is literally freaking me out, as I think to myself, oh my god, what have you done, you impulsive thing you, don’t you learn?  They’ve placed themselves so far out of reach for a lot of caring relatives, that if they need anyone, it will be incredibly difficult to get to them as most of the caring relatives who would help them don’t have their own transport and are on the poverty line and I have heard from the grapevine that they are not happy with their choice after all and there is nothing they can do now, the move has took a lot out of them.

Along with this, Henry has had some problems too and now we are receiving help from a certain charity, I won’t mention what the charity is and what Henry’s problems are because Paul would rather me keep that to myself, but things aren’t going well for us currently and that in itself is contributing to my depressive return; and with all of this too, I have far too many hospital appointments coming up and too many tests that need doing.

Personally I am struggling a lot with my disabilities to even write or read regularly, hence these stupid goals I am forcing onto myself – I am trying to make my life somewhat productive at least.  I might have a neurological problem other than the suspected MS, we don’t really know yet; the doctors are all on guess work right now.  All I know is I am scared of whatever it is getting worse, because lately reading and writing is becoming affected.  I am getting my words mixed up a lot and I don’t even notice it when I reread it half the time.  It could just be depression, who knows?  But I am scared.

When I get bouts of depression I tend to meditate too much to try and forget what got me there in the first place. 

Last week I watched a lot of YouTube videos, this week I haven’t even done that.  But I really should, I should force myself to watch things like the Motivational Archive when I get like this, it sometimes helps.

Well anyway, thank you for reading – you’ve all been an absolute gem to keep on reading.  I hope you all have a lovely day and have lots of fun and come back again soon.

Good luck with your own writing adventures and why don’t you send me a snippet for me to read?  I don’t read many blogs, I really ought to, and there are some amazing people out there.

Hopefully next week will be a better week?

The writers block monster

It is time that people stopped believing in the writer’s block monster, because for professional writers, this really doesn’t exist unless you are incredibly stressed and even then it is just an excuse to not write anything.  I am not a professional writer and since I taught my brain to think differently about writing and what I write, writers block has never occurred.  You really do need to train your brain into thinking differently and here is how.

A good way to conquer writers block and make it a thing of your past is to simply look about and clasp your eyes on something beautiful, unusual, interesting, anything.  A bowl of fruit, a particular fruit in that bow, your cat or dog, events going on outside the house that you can see from your window, anything can help you to get back on track to writing.

You see, being a writer doesn’t mean that you sit down day in and day out writing the same thing over and over again or the same story even, until it is perfect before you go into your next project – no!  An average writer writes a lot of different things, most of the time those things never ever lead into a story or poem at all.  Because by and large it is the practise of writing which makes you a better writer, not dishing out as many finished projects that you are proud of sharing with others, most of your work will never be read by anyone but yourself.  It is also good practise to not get into the habit of throwing work away if you feel it is not going anywhere, because you never know when you might need it. 

You see practise really does make perfect.  So look at that bowl of fruit over there and write about it, make at least a one full page description of it.  What does it look like?  Where are the shadows falling?  What are the textures you can clearly see?  Are there any fragrances emanating from the bowl to entice you to eat?  You’d be surprised at how much you can write about this.

It all helps you progress not only into becoming a better writer, but a writer who actually writes regularly, daily – it helps you form the writing habit, which is essential if you want a career in writing eventually, because once the door is opened to you, you’d be expected to write a lot, so forming the habit of writing and thinking about writing practise snippets is really an essential part of an everyday writers life.  You really have to stop believing in the writer’s block monster, because there are endless opportunities to write about something – anything!

 

 

 

 

 

Inktober Day 11 – Dragon hatching and mama

BEFORE AND AFTER PICS.

The before pic

The after pic

Inktober 2018 – Day 3

The monster – Frankie

 

Here’s Frankie, Frankenstein’s monster, the groom to the bride I did yesterday, it is a late post because today is my birthday and I very nearly forgot to do something for Inktober today!

What did you do for the 3^rd day of Inktober?

 

Inktober day 2 – The Bride!

The Bride!

 

Inktober day 2 – The Bride of Frankenstein’s monster!

Colours used, black Indian ink, apple green, scarlet mixed with white and sunshine yellow for skin tone watered down, white, metallic-silver-aluminium for the bolts.

I was quite surprised at how I got the skin tone just right, I didn’t want her to look pale and pasty or green, I wanted her to look like the blood is actually flowing in her and that she is more of a success than the monster, because it would be Dr Frankenstein’s second attempt at replicating human life and as we all know – you get better with practise!

As a fan of horror I just had to do this scream queen, she’s a beauty and tomorrow I might plan to do her beast, “The Monster” himself. 

 

 

Bog Monster

Creeping out the boggy marshes
Gurgling its cries of death
See its eyes a glowing
See its fangs and feel its breath
Its hair is made of algae
It’s skin as slimy as a frog
See it creeping towards you
The monster of the bog
Though you are paralysed in fear
Though your heart tells you to flee
Though your chest is thumping hard
You can only stand and see
Death creeping closer to you and me
A little sigh of triumph comes from its muddy lips
It touches your legs so softly with its iron fingertips
Its grip gets tighter and tighter
Your voice makes desperate calls
But it’s too late it has you
And into the bog you’re pulled
Though the monster has spared your friend
The spell is broken down
Your friend runs towards the bog to save you
But they’re too late, you’ve drowned
Their cries are heard throughout the night
The monster has taken your life
Your friend sits at the bank of the bog mourning
Stabs at the bog with his knife
But they don’t find the monster in there
It has gone to the deeper depths of Hell
It has gone down there as soon as it had got you
And taken you as well
Your friend he threw himself into madness
No one believed his story
No one ever will, you know
The ending was far too gory
Instead they locked him up and away
Never to see the light of day
And always it is this way
With the monster of the bog
And now this story is said and done
And now you will carry on with your life
As though this story was never true
And of course, you don’t believe in after life
But his ghost is watching from that bog
To ward off others just like you
Keep away from this monster’s bog
Because the stories of course are true

NaNoWriMo & The Monster

I needed a pep talk on the NaNoWriMo website tonight, because I have never written thousands of words down towards a novel without revising each paragraph for weeks at a time.  I am not used to word vomit.  But I am doing that with NaNoWriMo because the motto there is to ‘just write’ and that’s what I am doing and I am finding that my story is unemotional and non-descriptive and generally trashy I have to say.  But, fellow Nanos told me, it’s meant to be like that initially, you’re just piecing things together, it’s not meant to be perfect first hand.  It’s supposed to be a little more than planning stage, it’s still part of the planning, and it doesn’t start to look like the story until draft two or three or four.

So this got me thinking.  I started to think that you know what?  If they are right and professionals do write like this on a consistent basis then a novel is like Frankenstein’s monster.  You get an arm, a leg, a hand, etc. and you sew it all together and then with each new draft you make after NaNoWriMo you are trying to find the secrets to life, eventually you will get to the grand finale, you will get that lightning bolt of life you need for your monster, the story and he shall come alive!  I hope my monster comes alive by the end of this anyway!

Good Luck to all who are doing NaNoWriMo this year!