Je Suis

I don't think I could ever describe myself in one word. I don't think anyone can; human beings are infinite in their complexities.

I can describe myself in a phrase though.

Pleasantly passive-aggressive.

My resting bitch-face creates the outward projection that I'm moody, but I'm the first to smile if I make eye contact with anyone.

I spend my life in public visualising the agonising death/maiming of anyone who jumps the queue at the bus stop, stands on the left side of the escalators or wears double denim.

However if any of these individuals were to engage me, I would smile pleasantly and speak to them with the hyper politeness of an employee of the month.

The phrase itself is an oxymoron and I often feel like one myself.

Mind, conscience and body in constant conflict to behave, show that my mother raised me correctly and not take a machete to the tourists on Oxford Street.

I am a bohemian punk, divided between wanting to marvel in the beauty of the world and wanting to watch it burn.

Darling.

Focus, darling, focus.

The worries of the world are too small to contain you.

The enemy is too weak to keep hold of you.

The stars are too dull to outshine you.

Let your standard fly high and your trumpets be heard throughout the land.

Be spectacular.

Be courageous.

Don't let them win.

Review: Deliver Me

Deliver Me by Kate Jarvik Birch

My rating: 5 of 5 stars



I finished this in one night if that's anything to go by...

Absolutely gripped and horrified by Wynne and Odessa's world. The brutality of it all was almost too much to bear but I couldn't look away.

Some good messages about the state or potential state of our world in there too, if you want to get into all that.

I'm still reeling.

I hope there is a sequel. I don't feel ready to leave the girls yet.



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An Introduction to Daila Kind

My name is Daila Kind. I am 18 years old and if I don't have a child by my 20th birthday, I will be considered useless and discarded.

My mother is a model citizen. She has more than met her quota. I am the oldest of nine.

She tells me to go to the clubs, to not be so fussy, to actually smile and talk to a boy at least, but I am just not interested yet.

Rumour has it, there was a time where you didn't have to have children. Ever. Women would simply work, or learn, or even live with other women. Romantically. Imagine that.

I sometimes think I would like to live in these times, but I can't even write my name, let alone do anything of use.

According to our masters, we are being of use. We have great purpose and we are rewarded accordingly.

It's true. Our city is one of lavish parties and wonderful houses. I can't even remember the last time anyone was sick.

We are fed, we are looked after and, generally, we are happy.

We pretend not to know the secret.

You see, our masters never mention it. They never give us more of a hint other than calling us "cattle".

They think we don't know that cattle were once the extinct mammals known as "cows".

They think we don't know that cows were bred as meat to be eaten by us.

They think we don't know that all the meat is extinct, even though it turns up on our plates.

They think we're stupid because we can't read and all we do is go to parties and breed.

However, we do know.

We worked it out a long time ago.

We know that when we turn 36 and are taken to The Hotel, we aren't going anywhere but onto someone else's plate.

Seven Nights Before the Fall

Sleep is of the eternal state.

A practise state of the consciousness.

A never state,

An always state of the ethereal

And the earthly.

Careering on the cusp

Of a crumbling crevice.

Careening towards a 

Cavernous call.

Elegantly elevating every

Eternal Error.

Porous pity

Preposterous provocation

Petulant piousness on

The precipice

Of otherworldly outlandish

Origins.

Heralding heinousness.

Beware

A boyish bastard

Belittling broken beaks.

Sever the series of

Sleepless slumbers

Sanctimonious

And bleak.

I dreamt that the world burned.

It started on my street; everything was alight.

First the cars, then the houses, then the people.

Wildfire doesn't spread this fast. Wildfire isn't as all encompassing.

I dreamt the puddles, the animals, the rocks were so violently aflame that it set the sky on fire.

The world was burning, smouldering, screaming.

No ash.

No smoke.

Just fire.

And then I dreamt the crows came back.

This Is A Train Of Thought; You Have Been Warned

Insomnia.

I have no idea whether it's the remnants of today's overdose of coffee running through my veins or just my brain going into panic mode that it can't deal with two solid weeks of work.

News flash; you're not that broken, you totally can.

It's ridiculous. I'm running on two hours sleep and my head is fried. I'm talking forgotten how to sleep, on the verge of hysterically crying fried.

Ker-fucking-splat!!!

It's twenty to one in the morning. I need to get up and be a fully functioning adult at five fifteen in the morning. How exactly is this going to work?

The brat and his console next door didn't help. I was thinking violent thoughts but I didn't act on them I swear. I'm just ranting on here because I can. Because I need to. This is my space after all, my little cave of the internet and I never ever use it.

Useless.

Don't be like that. You're not useless. Your brain is just a little bit fried. Stop editing, train of thought keep it together. Talie. Right.

Will edit after. Not even looking at the screen. I really don't want to see all the mistakes.

But I'm tired ker-fucking-splat tired and I don't know what to do about it apart from write.

I always seem to be able to write when I'm on the verge of a meltdown. Good sign? Yet to be determined.

It's hot.

My cat is a snuggle monster and I love her.

I'm addicted to my phone. Fucking dating apps wouldn't you know. Am I actually going to meet the man/woman of my dreams on Tinder? Probably not. Lulutrixabelle, you have inspired a nation.

Doing a little experiment on men though. Saying yes to everyone instead of being picky. Boys do it all the time yet they don't like it when its done to them. Stop editing. Stop looking. You can sort it after, this is supposed to be train of thought.

Right.

Dating apps.

Ridiculous inventions yet a life saver if you're a chronic hermit like me.

I don't have to leave my house for a week? Awesome.

Talking to this girl on one. She called me a cutie. I called her a cutie back.

Brain.

Frazzled,

Ker-fucking-splat.

I'm putting my life on the line before consulting my best friends. Jenny! Rhiann! Why are you sleeping???

I'm seeing them this week so its fine. If anyone will be able to ease my mind it's those two.

I HAVE TO SLEEP YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND I NEED FUCKING SLEEP

MY BODY IS ACHING FOR IT

BRAIN. HEAD. MIND. SHUT UP. I NEED REST. PLEASE. JUST SHUT UP.

Breathing hasn't helped thus far but writing has calmed me down.

I feel like I'm heading back to square one but I know I'm not. I'm okay, just backsliding a little

I'm gonna need to do this a lot to tackle the next two weeks.

Fucking work.

Can't you just give me money for being awesome and a drain on my mother?

Ta.

Shhhhh brain.

Ker-fucking-splat.