Archives for category: Stuff

Something terrible happened yesterday.
I don’t want to talk about it today.
I’m at a friend’s cat sitting.
I’m in a lot of pain; physical and emotional.
A friend wants to know if I need anything, I already said what I needed, I’ve been saying it for months.
I look at my friend’s house and I’m transported to desperately sad and unhappy times.
Every surface is covered. Every surface has something on it. Every. Surface.
There is no view.
I think I’m allergic to her house as much as I am her cat.
I can’t believe the years I have lost to my shit.
All of it, physical and emotional.
Other people could see it, but I couldn’t.
Or at least I did not want to.
Because I was so very sad, and lonely.
Sometimes I think I haven’t moved on at all, but when I look back to yesterday, I think I’m starting to win.
It’s my time to win.
I so desperately need to travel, it’s killing me staying put. I don’t know how to make it happen, but I have to try find a way. Especially before the world implodes. Honestly, I’m really feeling the political disasters presently.
I feel like I’m in a race against time.
Only this isn’t as much fun as crystal maze.
My pain killers are kicking in now.
I hope I can sleep.
I’m wondering if I have enough masochism left in me to spend another night.
Someone called to invite me to a writing course, I can’t believe the range of emotions swirling around this one.
What is my main aim?
Does writing set me free, or does freedom give life to my writing.
I think we all know the answer to that.


It would be a lie to say that I was a non-smoker since I smoke nearly every week. I began eating meat again. I went out and got laid. He’s an alright bloke, but he’s not for me: maybe he just doesn’t want to be for me. Anyway, we are friends, so at least we’ve lost nothing. We met when I started drinking again. I read an article that said that will power was finite. Being jobless and in the pit of grief trying to hold onto my sanity, something had to give. So, I let it all go (again, with the letting go!).

I called a friend, snot nosed and said this was the worst impersonation of ‘Love, eat, pray’ or what ever the hell that was, that I’d ever witnessed and I’ve seen a lot of messed up puppies in my time. She laughed and said, “You’re not messed up. You’re living. Get used to it”. I decided there was little else I could do actually, so I settled in for the ride. I believe the Buddhists call it developing renunciation.

Then I finally found a freakin job. Hallelujah!

Kind of got sacked because 1) My line manager and I knew each other from a previous job and we both knew it wouldn’t last long, 2) It ended a lot quicker than we both thought it would because I almost burnt the hostel down. Strictly speaking it wasn’t my fault, but still, it was a very close call. We both learned something that day: She’s a person living in fear and my hostel days are over because I just don’t have the love for it like I used to.

I let that go too. Just slunk off and never looked back. Even when I was pleading for my job, we both looked at each other through the facades we’d built knowing that neither of us wanted me to get my job back. But I worked long enough to pile a little bit of cash up. Knowing this might be the last pile o’ cash I see for a while I thought, “fuck it”. I’m going to get drunk. My birthday month was wild. I don’t even remember living like that in my teens, I just went nuts.

As the second half of August pulled into sight I said to myself that I was going to straighten out again and start the soul destroying process of finding work. Then I got drunk and slept with my friend again. We had a big talk a few weeks later about how we were just going to be friends, then we had sex on the sofa. It’s pretty funny you know. At some points I just laughed and laughed and laughed… Grief works in mysterious ways. My friends are phenomenal that’s all I can say. They really have carried me this year, and I will say it till I’m blue in the face, I have had no choice but to let them. At first, I waved to my pride as I passed by, but then it caught me up again all refreshed and wearing new clothes.

What now then?

1) I’m still allergic to the cat.
2) I have a zero hour contract working a bar.
3) I’m still looking for better hours.
4) I stopped writing the book. I don’t have time to research it properly.
5) I created my own event. (It went down really well).
6) I won some funding to be able to put my event on again in a different venue.
7) I’m applying for further funding to take it further afield.
8) I said I’d help a friend with his events. We are gaining a lot of interest and some very serious people are asking questions.
9) I’m going to have to set up new blogs about both of these events, because other wise, I’ll lose the anonymity of this blog. Some of you have come so far with me on my inner journey, that I wouldn’t want to lose you because I couldn’t continue writing with the same level of freedom I enjoy now.

I hope you are well. I’ll post the writing I did for my event when I’ve typed it up. Till then, have a listen to this my loves…

Since my last post:

1) I’m still allergic to the cat.
2) I’m still working for the Talent Agency but not for the Cafe because:
3) my cousin died,
4) my uncle died,
5) my friend died,
6) my dad had a heart attack,
7) all my money (the tiny pittance I had) was withdrawn and I had to borrow money to pay the rent,
8) I accidentally took a lot of street drugs at a party (I don’t do drugs).

Things got very surreal and every step was like wading through mud. Or quick drying concrete. Let’s not do this couple of months ever again… Except for the friendship garden… That bit is very, very nice. In my new place I have a garden, the first I’ve had since leaving home. Really, it’s a 6 by 6 yard, but I’m turning it into a garden. And my friends are helping: pansies, broadbeans, sweet peas, strawberries, daffodils, gardenia, day lilies and my own crappy cactus that refuses to die. Apparently, there is Chard on the way from friend and a goat from another. Knowing this friend, I have no idea if she might actually bring a goat!

So, anyway, the war with life rages on as I try to stay in the slip stream. Stupid bugger that I am, I prayed for change didn’t I? Called for Kali, such a fool I am… Here is a little bit of the book:

“In a curious twist… not everyone is falling apart. Some of us are. But we are loved and this love carries us through. Grief, not to be confused with depression takes time to heal. When we are ready to move on we do, of our own accord.

What do we grieve for? Those that have passed (total of four this year for me, plus one furry brother, unless someone else sneaks in another within the next 11 days), death of our career, ending of a relationship, financial worries (who of us isn’t grieving over the loss of our financial independence during these times), losing our children’s dependence on us, but worse, so much worse than all of these, is to lose our sense of self. How truly terrifying to wake up one morning and in place of certainty find only doubt.

How do we re-establish a sense of self on such unsteady ground? We dig. We dig what at first appears to be a grave and then we fill the hole, metaphorically with our old selves. We pour into the hole all that was once useful and joyful, but that now only brings us dread. We pour our lament, thick with snot and tears, like syrup into the foundations of our new selves. We release our putrid and outworn ideas into the slop and we bury it. We lay to rest that which no longer carries us through, knowing the only thing that we really need is love.

And yes, it’s true, on your quest to find love you look back and see the grave of your past. But don’t you know, that in time, that earth will settle and when you have done roaming you will return to find this is the best place to build a new sense of self, with a heart full of love. What am I saying? This is the natural order. Don’t fight it. You are going to die one way or another, so before you push yourself to a death you can’t come back from, give into the experience and reserve some energy for your rebirth.”

Let me tell you, that little piece of monologue was hard-earned. I’ll let you know when I’m eating bean stew with strawberries for afters.

OK let me get this out the way… I’m having technical issues… I do not like the way that I have to faff to make a post and honestly, if I wanted double spacing or what ever I would use it. And I don’t like the blue they use. Nope. Finding the dashboard is a chore too. It’s distracts me every time I sit down to write.

There is a fly behind the curtains, I don’t even know how they keep getting in! I had to stop writing to chase it out of the house, but not before I had a moment watching it crawl over the glass looking for a way out. I couldn’t chase the thought that appeared cos the buzzing broke it. This is a blog about my Tickertapemind after all…

I need new terminology, but I’ll explain that in a different post. Perhaps.

I have some great things I would like to show you but I am unable because they are not live on-line yet. Which in some senses makes this a bit of a non-post. But it isn’t because of these:

1) Yo! Old friends! I had chance to catch up with some of your blogs. Looking good. Plenty of motion and gratitude in these pages and you know that I am responding to that, having been stuck in a rut this last month.

2) Yo! New friends! I see you too. It takes me a while to catch up, but I check out the blog of every new like and follower. I don’t like randomly as I have dyslexia and only follow blogs I think I can learn from, but it takes me time to honour that. Thank you for dropping by. :)

3) And a little brag… I kid you not… I liked a post by David Mack about a piece of work that he did with Neil Gaiman (there is your internet homework, you haven’t had some for a while so don’t complain!) I hope you find a picture of the finished product… Well I liked it and shared it on my FB wall and then David Mack himself liked my post. Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee :D Totally epic!

Tennessee by Arrested Development
Smells Like Teen Spirit by Patti Smith
Q.U.E.E.N. by Janelle Monae ft. Erykah Badu

If you only utube one song make it the last and get down, cos the booty don’t lie!

A new home, a sleeping cat and a freshly typed manuscript of a short story. Not just any short story… my first.

7228 words, ready to be proof read and entered into a competition.

Just six months ago, I would have laughed at you, had you told me I was a writer.

Funny how life is…

I’m in. I’m surrounded by boxes. And I’m happy as a pig in poop. I threw away 10 bin bags of rubbish from the old place. Yeah! You heard right. 10. Rubbish. 10 bags of rubbish. I have one bag of confidential rubbish left. I want to burn it.

I’ve spent a week washing curtains. I wanted to put my own up, but the drop in the new place is 2 foot longer. So I washed the ones left in the new place so they would smell of me.

I decorated the bedroom and half decorated the bathroom and moved things from one box to another, to another, to another… You know like those games where you have to push blocks around a maze?

I was going to bed at sun down and rising at sun up. Or when the work men next door woke me, which ever happened earlier. I finally started to lose that weight that I thought I’d lose when I started working.

I’ve rebuilt all my furniture. Felt home sick for my old place. Cried because I knew my Nan would have loved this house. Watched the cat explore her new surroundings and been so excited that I have to make myself not let her in the garden until she’s had her boosters.

I handed in the keys to the old place. I drank the bottle of Lanson I was saving. I finally broke and put the computer together. I watched the rain on my new windows and I turned on my new gas fire. I managed not to kill my orchids in the move.

Laura Mvula is right…

Sometimes the grass ain’t greener on the other side.
Maybe the sky is clearer in another place.

But you got diamonds under your feet.
But you got diamonds in your heart.

Waiting for a day of change to come.
And you’re beautiful, dancing in a gloomy store.

But you got diamonds under your feet.
But you got diamonds in your heart.
But you got diamonds in your heart.

Change did come… and the grass is greener. Even in the gloom of bereavement, I can see blue sky. I hope things keep changing for the better. It’s been a tough year. I have forgotten Om Mane Padme Hum on a Wednesday, usually remembering on Thursday morning.

I have four weeks of work left. A manuscript to type up still. And there are walks to be had. There is a heart to finish. How long can I live with all these boxes before they start to drive me nuts?

My friend has given me the information I need for a counselling course that starts in September and I am tempted to take a Painting and Decorating class too. I have funding to apply for, so I can continue the Patchwork Poems.

Life goes on.

Om Mane Padme Hum.

Hey old friends, hey new friends, I see you!

I’m one room done and ARGH more to go! The house is upside down and I’m thinking back to the last time I moved. I packed and moved in one day, in a transit. Oh. My. Days. I have too much stuff now.

When I try and get rid of stuff I end up holding on to it. I got rid of lots when the ex moved in and I’m stood in the middle of this big mess thinking, I NEED to get rid of more. This stuff is making me ill.

To help me, I have told my India pal (who is going to South Africa this time) that I am going to let her have the proceeds from a car boot sale. A promise is a promise. So far I have boxed 3 ornaments. I might need to look a bit closer at what I can let go.

Books. There are hundreds of books. I used to need new books like air. When did the acquisition of stuff stop mattering and why can’t I let go of stuff I no longer want or need? I know when it’s gone I will not miss it. So why cling to it?

As another tool of letting go, I have decided that only things of quality can remain in the new house. Anything that is not quality goes in the garden, to be sorted for fund raising for South Africa or for the local charity shop.

And then, my cousin asks me, do I want any of my Nan’s stuff.