Brain fart
Friday, July 14, 2006
Off the cuff, end of work today one...
I'm living beyond the hum of the computers,
Beyond the spiels of cats chasing birds
With their mouths open and gossiping.
There's a little cloud up there on the ceiling,
I think I'm on top of it,
Crushed between the soft vapor and prickly artex.
The burrow I've made is a warm one.
The boredom of words stick through my skull,
Bluntly moving through my brain
Moving the slush from side to side.
Thoughts of red ripe apples,
Intellectual acheivement
Bounce around in my eyes.
Take the next step, Rosie,
Before your fucking head explodes. ¶ 5:36 pm 0 comments
Beyond the spiels of cats chasing birds
With their mouths open and gossiping.
There's a little cloud up there on the ceiling,
I think I'm on top of it,
Crushed between the soft vapor and prickly artex.
The burrow I've made is a warm one.
The boredom of words stick through my skull,
Bluntly moving through my brain
Moving the slush from side to side.
Thoughts of red ripe apples,
Intellectual acheivement
Bounce around in my eyes.
Take the next step, Rosie,
Before your fucking head explodes. ¶ 5:36 pm 0 comments
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
On being a latent friend of Dorothy...Ramble.
Sometimes I like to imagine what would have happened if I'd taken a different path. What if I hadn't met such a wonderful bunch of people on my degree course that made me believe that being different to the norm was actually ok. It was so frightening! If I'd gone to a different university, and everyone there had been straight and not so friendly... It would have been so easy to have carried on as before. Faking it. And establishing myself as a lesbian a couple of years later was I think even more frightening. Looking back i wonder how did I feel so awful about being the way I am. I certainly don't miss the emotional instability, the depression, the pretend happiness, pressing my lips against men's in the vain hope of feeling something, bar the odd bit of animal lust and the deep brotherly affection. Which was kinda easy to mistake for romantic love sometimes. Now the thought of leading men on horrifies me. How could I have done that? Made them believe I wanted them. But then I thought I did at the time. How could I have carried that on? How awful that would have been. Luckily I've never been one to prolong things that don't feel right. If I still did that today... It makes me shudder. My heart has always gone out to people in similar circumstances. Sometimes I can see the signs, and it takes such courage for them to stand up and be counted as a queer! Fear and all the hippy stuff about 'inner homophobia' or 'internal homophobia' often has a lot to answer for I think. (Where you subconsciously take every negative thing about being gay you've heard/seen growing up and pit it against yourself, making you believe it's the most awful thing you can be etc, and effects your self esteem, makes you feel subconsciously that what you are is bad, even after coming out....etc etc. There's more on the web...) There's definitly something in it. I have known a couple of lucky people who've never had problems with what they are, and have been out practically since birth, but they seem to be few in numbers! Nowadays I'm so fucking proud of who I am, and so proud of the people around me who have stood up, done the hard thing and truley followed their hearts. (which is the best advice I could ever give anyone...) But seriously... What if I'd never had the guts to stand up and be counted? The thought is too hideous to bear...
¶ 10:43 am 0 comments
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Forgotten people
Dearest blog.
I'd rather die instead of going into a care home when I'm old. I went to see an elderly relative who's recently been put in one on Saturday, and I wanted to kill myself within 5 minutes... my relative in question had already started to go insane (bit of a shock! But different story... :) ) and deeply paranoid, and it's not any wonder really, with the staff all in plastic disposable aprons incase any of the residents soil them, the awful carpets, the hideous peeling wallpaper clashing violenty with everything, the faded tacky framed prints of OXO adverts, the airless atmosphere (not one window was open!), the stench of death and pee, the other residents who didn't seem to be people any more, the nauseating music they were playing for them (think the music that kills the martians in Mars Attacks), the opressive atmosphere... I'm used to care home environments as I regularly visited various relatives in homes before they passed over, but sometimes it's still a shock, and I haven't had to go in one for a couple of years. And the thing is, everything they seemed to put in to make the place more 'home-like' seemed to add to the opressive atmosphere. A cool, clean, fresh environment would surely be much more suited to a deaths waiting room. The poor people who have to endure these kind of hell holes... shut in and herded around like cattle, put in a chair for hours to get bum ache, loosing their sense of decency. Urgh there must be a better way to end your life. A lot of them have fought for our country, built what we have now, and they're shut away from the rest of us when they're unable to look after themselves. The elderly are treated abominably in this country, and it's not just about the care homes. There must be something we can do for them?
Love Rosie xxxx ¶ 10:05 pm 2 comments
I'd rather die instead of going into a care home when I'm old. I went to see an elderly relative who's recently been put in one on Saturday, and I wanted to kill myself within 5 minutes... my relative in question had already started to go insane (bit of a shock! But different story... :) ) and deeply paranoid, and it's not any wonder really, with the staff all in plastic disposable aprons incase any of the residents soil them, the awful carpets, the hideous peeling wallpaper clashing violenty with everything, the faded tacky framed prints of OXO adverts, the airless atmosphere (not one window was open!), the stench of death and pee, the other residents who didn't seem to be people any more, the nauseating music they were playing for them (think the music that kills the martians in Mars Attacks), the opressive atmosphere... I'm used to care home environments as I regularly visited various relatives in homes before they passed over, but sometimes it's still a shock, and I haven't had to go in one for a couple of years. And the thing is, everything they seemed to put in to make the place more 'home-like' seemed to add to the opressive atmosphere. A cool, clean, fresh environment would surely be much more suited to a deaths waiting room. The poor people who have to endure these kind of hell holes... shut in and herded around like cattle, put in a chair for hours to get bum ache, loosing their sense of decency. Urgh there must be a better way to end your life. A lot of them have fought for our country, built what we have now, and they're shut away from the rest of us when they're unable to look after themselves. The elderly are treated abominably in this country, and it's not just about the care homes. There must be something we can do for them?
Love Rosie xxxx ¶ 10:05 pm 2 comments
