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Tuesday, 23 September 2014

The shadows

It took me over five years to realise who I'd crowned best friend,was not a friend at all, just terrified of her own lonelinss, and somehow despite my laughter, the hot line of friends that circled us, I had become lonely too. it was the strangest thing, we went everywhere together, called each other at least 3 or four times a day, I was a consistent passenger in her car, her ever constant, I soon realised I was a passenger in her life. A side kick, and when she aptly spoke of being extremely lonely, I realised what I held in high esteem, wasn't what she valued. I was here, her shoulder, her ear, how could she be lonely? Then when another person entered our hub and she admitted she had more respect for her than me, I was befuddled. This was the person that had once described our friendship as a marriage, someone who I'd literally leave everything for just to ensure she was safe.

The worst thing about shadows of the past is in time they take form and have face again. You remember all those things hatred helped you forget. Its so difficult to dethrone the bad memories yet somehow you must fight for the good ones. The good ones will feed you in the darkness

imaginary him

The king of the household
Walks in steed
Tiptoeing into
The plates without
Lifes Lead
For home
Is laughter,
It is choice
The busy world
Brings in the noise
This gate he keeps
He guards it well
Removes the slumber
He oils the shell
For it is slick
And green with moss
We seek
The love
A time forgot
On supple skin
And pleading hands
And doors that lock
Where there's no slam
For at my bosom
He will rest
And all our kittens
Will grow on breast
This world for man
A triumphs storm
For I have loved
Far from
The norm
As I weave
His principled threads
The kiss of silk
A sun once fed
A tapestry
Our woven strands
our tongues enjoy
Our pancake plans

Sunday, 21 September 2014

How to deal with someone who is obsessed

Signs a guy is obsessed with you. First of all let me tell you obsession is less about beauty, and image. Is someone is fixated on you, at all cost keep your distance. There was a guy who till this day,refuses to leave Me alone. He'd isolate me from friends planting hostile seeds of paranoia, convincing me that male friends especially we're plotting something sinister or to hurt me in some way.The more I connected to, went on dates, afiliaed with new men, potential friends, potential partners this guy became more twisted and psychotic ,lashing out like a angry boyfriend, spreading rumours that I was loose. Or a prostitute. No matter how many times I asked him to leave me alone, he refused. Saying things like " I just want one night with her, one night," despite desperately enviously trying to alienate me from e everyone close to me. The most effective method he used was gas lighting where with my own clear sight I'd witness him call me a slut, whore, slag, tell personal family affairs. Eavesdrop on things that were sacred and private before spreading it to as many people as possible. He'd defend his actions by telling those around him that " I was too ugly for him, too masculine," he'd systematically pick out flaws. insulting my dark skin, calling me things like Monkey, spreading stories I had aids, convincing those around me I was mentally unstable whilst walking around without a care in the world.  At the start I had not seen it for what it was.

He wasn't smart, but someone who lacked no confidence managed to use me as a platform to boost his self esteem. Every time there was the possibility of him being outed for the sick things he was doing, this obsession he had. He'd defend it by saying " he was messing around, just joking." Yet it was cruyel and sadistic. When he first started his hate campaign I'd assumed that I must have done something wrong, then as I looked on, I began to notice a pattern. The tirades of abuse always began after I'd met a friend, or spoken to a guy friend on the phone, or been spotted with someone....preferably male When the harassment started initially, he was so convinced even I became convinced, maybe I was ugly, maybe there was something wrong with me, the worse he got, the more I bough into it until one day I saw the pattern. Him and those around him were trying to punish me for daring to attract the attention of other guys. I began to resent this obsession he had it frustrated me beyond belief if I was so ugly why wouldn't he leave me alone. Why wouldn't those close to him leave e alone, he was obsessed with filing me with new paranoia, when I spoke to a male associate and another friend, they put it in simple terms.  " This guy is attracted to you, and hates you for it. Most of all your silence is protecting him. Tell people what he's doing, others know."

When I finally did open up about what him an the around me were doing. I was heartbroken, he'd managed to convince those close to me with the help of an exceedingly jealous mother,that these things were all in my head. Eventually I began to have feelings of resentment as those around me would ask such questions as am I experiencing paranoia. His gas lightingbhad worked. Strategically it was never done when I was with others always alone, isolated, at one point I had been teetering on the edge of committing suicide. As this guy would consistently harass me, try to mentally break me down. Yet when confronted would play the victim, and act as though I had imagined the emotional abuse. The less those around me questioned my honesty, the more isolated I'd become. Soon enough I was doing what he was doing lying. Yet once again lying on his behalf, covering up why I was crying, or doing strange things like slashing at my skin, hiding depressions and faking smies. I just wanted to be left alone,and I was tired of his outbursts of " one night, just one night with her." Tired of hiding the pain I felt because my siblings were treated differently, my sister was a fairer skin, and he'd often announce it to friends as loudly as possible always when I was alone. " The light skinned one I'd go for the light skinned one, the dark skinned one looks like a monkey. I can't be seen with her in the street, she has a reputation," a false reputation which he had built for me out of envy. As I listened to him spread more lies about those close to me, discussing family affairs, medical procedures,going as far as calling us the dirtiest people in the neighbourhood, and dealt with the fact that he left key facts about our family out such as useful connection we knew, business contacts, I realised something whilst having to ignore such comments as " if that girl ever had my baby I'd abort it." And having to keep my head up whilst he told " Asian friends to call me a Nigga as I walked up and down the street, and call me a whore. Whenever I told the truth I was told that I was being dramatic, or manipulative, and the more I'd attempt to speak to those close to me about it, the ore it created a distance which they were not aware of as I would be asked in puzzlement if I had imagined these things for they seemed completely out of character,this was a guy that stared at us shoes when he walked. Absolutely no self confidence, yet as he crucified mine suddenly he was braveeheart?

Many women make the mistake in thinking when a man exhibits behaviour like this,its about possession and his hurt feelings. This is a psychopath,at all cost you must tell everyone what is being done to you. Cowards like this, or truly sick individuals are like rodents. They work best in the dark . What he was doing was a form of abuse,emotional and mental abuse...the irony was I wasn't even dating him. This is a guy that tried to convince me men were out to rape me, that is a sick mind. Upon the advice of family I was told to keep things quiet, make no spectacle, have no confrontation, just ignore it I was told. Whenever I tried to discuss it I was given the look, I believe that reaction encouraged his behaviour to get much worse. Before long thing spiralled out of control, yet I wonder if he would have done the things he did if the people around me spoke up. When a male friend wanted to confront him about his behaviour he'd hid in his house and closed the blinds.  He never confessed to the truth. Others had seen how fixated he was, he'd quizzed and probed, seeking answers about things like if I was seeing anyone, who I was dating, wanting to find out about the guys I spoke too. Major. Tip anytime you come across someone this obsessed you must either report them to the police, or tell as many people as possible. My silence empowered him, him and those around him began to fictionalise themselves as victims. Making it appear as though my hostility towards them was because they had other private affairs. Harassers, stalkers, controllers have to be dethroned the way you would an abuser and a bully, with honesty and as much shared info as possible. They should be ashamed not you. Thy don't do it because your weak, they do it because if they can weaken you, they can control you. How messed up must they be on the inside and you won't be the only one to see it. keep your distance, document it so there's evidence. If you need to talk to someone professional you should. Eventually I got tired too trying to convince those around me of what he was doing. I realised that the most important thing was that I knew the truth and he wouldn't break my spirit so low self esteem meant, I could be puppeted. It said more about him as a man than me as a woman.

Cappuccinos and clues

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" He's such a bastard,"
" a bastard that needs to be spoon fed his nouns" From the docks Catherina and Jacob Crosby eyed the floating ships, the water an ash neither enjoyed. " This place is so desolate."
" These are vintage, memorabilia, the first ships that docked the first ever African slaves,"
" you say it like its a chorus,"
" this is different for me."
" Rich white boy dating urban superstar," Leanna flashed a pair of movie star white teeth. " D'you like the dreads?" Black eyes bounced up and down her needle frame. He'd picked her, that's eight picked, because she didn't match the outfit of your typical black woman weight lifting angry chips. There was an ethereal element to her, and that chocolate skin with the red " You don't look like a lawyer."
" You sound like a robot, your not my type." Two Alpha's a lioness with a man who challenged an ego to match Jupiter. in Jacob Crosby's world he conquered the universe. " People in the firm complain about you regularly to me," she touched a hand to his pale skin. " Let me guess-"
" Don't assume I wanna tell you." He glanced briefly at the lighthouse to the North fastening his tan Mac as an Antarctic chill swept in, " supposedly all your pro black rants about the bingley and bison case has left staff thinking your racist,"
" clearly their not aware of what we did last night."
" I'm supposed to be Jewish," she threw her head back in mild amusement. " I like the red in your hair, is it auburn or cinnamon? What did you eat-"
" Don't ask me questions like that." Jacob challenged defensively. "We promised you wouldn't go all motherly or maternal until we reached six months at least,"
" Six months in Bethlehem." Leanna groaned sarcastically. No sex and it had been four months, of cinema's, hotels, gifts, poems, who knew a Crosby could actually scribble. " My mum hates you," he provided into the still
" I don't care for her much either.  I do like the wine she drinks, and the jewellery she wears."
" Gold digger." He teased in a husky tone, pulling her lean frame to his lanky one. " I want noise in my living room with prams and dummies, but let's ease into that." Her brown eyes heightened with shock, a look of alarm like an exclamation mark. " No cappuccino babies for you?"
" you don't even like the books I read." As he leaned in Leanna could taste the lick of alcohol, and tobacco teasing along the ridges of her mouth. The kiss was long and sensual, she leaned in closer, frustrated with his erection, and his control. A year down the. Line, there were three cappuccino babies to be exact, each one more similar to her husband than Leanna could have predicted. Catherina Leanna Jones was now Catherina Leanna Crosby.

Baby Steps

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"Change your job, change your life,"
" I've changed my life 2.4 kids, a husband never happened, love the job, loving the wrinkles." Greta Margolis ran the pearl encrusted comb through threads of black and silver woven hair. It didn't bite, it stung, how Nancy in her lala lala universe thought the world was all sunshine and rainbows, and here she was swallowing whimpers that never came. It wasn't about a stupid job. " the people are nice," she spoke about n plastic tones, glaring at the reflection but fore her. Small hands were placed neatly on a once swollen belly. it was the child she'd lost. idris she'd named him after the actor, Alvin looked much like Idris Alba and had a frame which dominated a room. it wasn't the absence of him leaving either, a bedroom, wrapped in sorrow, a womb that refused to produce a child. He wouldn't disappear, she would speak of him today. " There's an elephant in the room," Nancy remained silent. " I know you slept with my husband,I know you can produce a child for him something I cannot do," the two women turned to face each other, half a blood line connection between them. " we lay together because we were lonely,"
" He loves me you know," her silver eyes remained granite, " he worshiped the ground I walk on,"
" like I said we were two lonely people,on an Island of Self,"
" his son would have been named Idris," she brushed the loose tendrils of hair from the silk blue gown. Its velvet trimmings, and white lace had endeared her to him at the start of the engagement. " Notice with Alvin you always feel lonely," her sister sank opposite her on the ruffled bed. Alvin's political books usually lined the side of the bed, they were his energy when his spirit wasn't there. " I thought I'd hate you, like they do on the chat shows, but people grieve in interesting ways." Nancy tightened her Midnight bun, rolled up her sleeves and breathed one of those teenage sighs, they used to do when mum would come in screaming about the dishes. She couldn't explain why she didn't feel the guilt, the remorse, the conscience everyone judged her for. As though pieces of her were stolen and kept away somewhere, the heart part. She knew when they were wrong though those things that she did, and studied the expression you give to people when you hurt them. Actors made her feel less put on, life was a stage after all. That's how you deal with narcissistic personality disorder, what the over qualified secretary with the steel blue eyes called it in the therapist lounge. " I've done it to you so many times," she uttered in a tedious tone.
" I guess this time I wanna talk about it."
" your so lucky," Greta quirked a thick brow in confusion,
"I've just lost a child,"
" yeah and you'll feel things like grief, I'll always be separate from myself. "
" Its the worst feeling in the world," her eyes suffered her sisters cool expression. " you told mum."
" Mum knew about the baby, about everything. I keep all your secrets."
" And then you sleep with all my husband." Nancy was water, unphased untouchable. In her pink cotton sweater, and the green combats, she reminded her sister of mum. That almost hippyish, easygoing vibe as though the world moved at your flow. It was probably that arrogance that drew her men to her. it was strange not being jealous anymore, not detesting that emotional distance. When she looked at her she saw a specimen, something she studied curiously. " you've always been the prettier one,an enchantment to men,"
" but I'll never feel what you feel, the way you feel it."


I handed Atlanta the note it was clean and crisp starched as a T-shirt. she bit her lips as she surveyed it. " you wrote him a note and ever since he's had people calling you a whore and a slut, messing with your mind, knowing full well you suffered with depression before." she scanned it again her steel blue eyes electric with a dormant anger. " you don't know what it took for me to write this?"
" What d'you mean?" I paused anxiously waiting for the other students to pass as we stood isolated on the bridge. " I suffer from my own Social anxiety, its this disorder I can't put my finger on it but around new people it makes me scared, I can cover it most days, laugh with a smile, pretend like I'm actually part of what's going on." I gulped long and hard wishing there was water nearby, wishing I could delve in it. watching the dots of people go past. " I took a risk and it wasn't just a big deal for me, I'm not some kid with a crush, or something like that, I think I was lonely, and I thought he was genyine." Atlanta scanned the note once more her mouth twisting with a quiet rage. " since then I've been ridiculed, he's tried to get me to commit suicide, his mum and sisters have tried to ostracise me from the whole neighbourhood," we watched mrs meadows glide by, the only teacher who seemed to consistently contradict her name, her face held a look of permanent stress, as though lines were tattooed to her skin.
" Shea this note isn't vindictive in anyway shape or form."
" when he sees me talking to other guys or hears me, her goes absolutely crazy like he thinks I belong to him,"
" isn't this the same guy that's spent the past three years telling people your ugly, you smell, your a monkey?"
" Yeah but what's so great about this is he's a true coward, he never confronts me, when I faced him he denied everything. Every single thing he was doing." She smiled soothingly, placed a relaxed hand on my shoulder and wetted her dry mouth. Lanta was very similar to me in looks and height, that's how people often confused us, that's how we became so tight. " you see this?" She held it up her amber eyes glinting with pride, I liked the waves in her hair, the curls suited her,against the map of prolific features and a toffee complexion, she was someone you remembered. She opened her mouth to laugh, a deep throaty laugh, warm like brandy. " That's weird why are you doing that?"
" Because what he did was cruel and weak and no man that's actually respects himself behaves like that," she paused, skimming down it. " This line I hope you have a good year?Didn't this guy try and convince your family you were crazy?"
I nodded feeling the anger submerging again. " frame this, what you did was something to be proud of. my mum believes in Karma, real Karma, she says people like this by the time life has pissed and shat all over them, they learn to appreciate the little things."
" That's kryptic."
" Twin," she began," I ain't gonna tell you that one day you'll be rich and famous, or you'll be one of those girls who marries a millionaire," she paused temporarily searching for something in her whitewashed gap jeans, her frame was thicker than mine this year. " it s a dog tooth. My mum says it has something interesting about it."
"From a real dog?"
" No, to mums it represents Karma. One day you'll be where you need to be, and Karma will chew him up and fuck him up so bad, he'll remember the simple act of kindness you did. He took pride in doing that shit to you?"
" He told all my business got more people around him and tried to position himself as some president. He told me people would gangrape me." She laughed louder and harder, a cackle that made heads rivet up, " he told people personal affairs about my family tried to have us ostracised."
" I'm laughing because he wanted to steal something from you, but he doesn't have the skill or the emotional intellect to take it. he's one of those idiots that was never Mr macho at School, he has nothing. His family have nothing all the external is outside stuff." I watched as she read each word each sentence aloud, suddenly we had peeked eardrums and a small audience had gathered. Lanta's followers. She was one of the most well liked girls in the neighbourhood, it wasn't that she was popular in the TV sitcom way pretty girl with a lot of guys hanging on her arm.
" This guy is weak, he tried to punish you, for all the other women who had hurt him," she lifted the note higher looked down at the audience of girls that had suddenly gathered around us, " you see this here, I want this shit photocopied, every school in the borough ,"
" what the hell are you doing?"
" I'm the chair at this years senior dance, what you wrote will be on every flyer, every ticket, and every banner, Izzy?" We glanced over at a pink haired lanky teenage girl with gold fish blue eyes. " you can do some artsy shit right?"
The girl nodded as though she were a vice president. " It will be coded, we won't put your name on it nothing. Karma needs to know about this motherfucker."
I clenched my fist the memory of such a cruel betrayal filling my stomache with disgust. Making it flip like a pancake, and my limbs shake like jelly. " my mums said real men stopped treating women like this a while ago."
" let me hit you," she wrapped a lean hand around my frame the way a confidante would. We weren't best friends or anything, but Lantz Angela Moon was someone you could talk to.  A sister with no blood tie. " Take his power away, don't keep it silent. You're protecting him. He doesn't deserve it, he's weak this fuckups been Molly cuddled his whole life that's why you became the emotional punching bag, all the things that were broken and damaged in his life, unfixables, the messes," Israel jumped in people rarely did when Lantz moon was talking, yet I'd noticed a strange affinity between the two. You rarely saw them together but when you did it was like they spent all year together. most of Lanta's click were named after countries or continents, well travelled, well looked after girls. Mostly in the summer. " So my mum used to work for this campaign manager, one night alone in the office, guy pulls out his wand and rapes her." Our small army went completely silent, but then that was Israel Thompson she'd drop really meaningful shit on you, and spit it completely numb. " for years she felt humiliated, degraded, when she went to the police the guy made it look like she was the one who was lying, attention seeking he called it,"
" what happened?"
" After he got away with it, he tried again on an intern, this bitch was black and knew some sort of fighting technique," our circle had gathered closer. " Nobody knows what the fuck she did, but this guy likes to commit crimes and press charges."
" More," Lanta egged her eyes lit with as much enthusiasm as the rest of us. " He never walked again, and he never had children, there wasn't even a scratch on him." ' Lantz grinned flashing the gap between her teeth, EDA Croft had her own story, and so did Leanne Boone.  " when they fuck you, they fuck themselves." Lantz giggled it was almost whimsical. " Karma's a bitch. My mums having a dinner party ask her....ask her about the dogtooth."

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The missing ones

" So were avoiding, playing the avoidance game.," Ivy Bancroft in blue steel framed suit and pinched ivory pearls, was still the brunette he remembered from years ago. The red hair dazzled, its loose tendrils , lashing about her pointed features. with those grey eyes she was bewitching, engaging, and with the eagle broche his mother had given her, was a conversation starter. " You don't wear glasses anymore,'
"I know, they made me look sterile,"
" Sterile? no its a word, I swear I'm not a dipshit, its like being unapproachable,"
" you've always looked unapproachable until you laugh or smile, its the glint," he grinned " and that pimple on your left cheekbone. " Why white hair?" Matt Rivers stood with hands on hips in that comic superhero pose, he'd mastered. It was a long story. His whole fucking life was long stories and unwinding roads which curl and twist, pasts which rattle your insides, nesting in your brain.It was manic depression, and he had been at the edge of a precipice. Ivy narrowed her eyes feeling the tremor of his emotions like a pulse, or a vein within her body. His emerald eyes had always been able to do that. Yet, she'd spent years strangely trying to figure what colour his eyes actually were. It was a strange time to think of things like this, silly things yet it had fascinated her, this strange hue of green, aqua and a hint of chocolate. The quiet boy in the back of the class that sent her ideas, quips and jokes through paper fans, or scrunched bit of old newspaper. ' Not so much the boy I knew,"
" I'm 6  ft 6 to be exact."
" you look like youre  mum."
 She saw the state of pain as he glanced out at the multi co
Lured traffic, a pattern of prints, and culture, an escape from the green he was used too. everything seemed busy an over. Populated, the people were merciless ants the order of things a sanctuary that intimidated even his strong core of a chilled, relaxed vibe. " Do you miss her a lot?" Ivy glanced over at an incident between a portable bakery salesmen and a customer, he had a thick moustache, but it distracted her from the stupidity of such a bruising question. " I look like my dad," he countered, tightening the zip on a fitted leather jacket. "   Uncle Gregor right,"
" the one that went nuts and thought he could see angels,"
matt grinned once more. " he can see angels trust me, anyway, supposes he says we look like two strangers."
" strangers?"
" can't see a hint of a likeness."
" same eyes , same mouth, same smile, nose and chin, you get from your dad," her eyes scanned his prominent features like a busy computer. Twenty minutes late from lunch break and her she was here instead of there. " So my dad used to say you can tell the measure of a man by the way he occupies his time. What do you do?"
" Dustin August gets rich of this stupid blog idea remember how we were always competing with each other?"
" Jesus the guy wanted to live in your skin. Anyway I came up with a product idea," he used thick arms to navigate her out of the path of an old lady, she felt the spark of electricity and studied him with guarded vision as though it was something sinister he had done. It felt strangely familiar and it filled her with an anxiety.  familiar things brought memories,the house on church street. He remembered too, they could no longer pretend. "My step dad invested,in a unique investable lead for pets. Its not the superjob 'but last week I rented the Porsche, like my dad drives, "
" did they ever find his body?" The silence was heavy and dense with emotion. She imagined him as a paperboy. imagined him as something light without emotions at times, yet his voice  was thick with emotion.
 " My real dad?"
" yeah, I guess, did they?"
" They could never prove if he was dead or just missing."