motivating the mind

Testify your own success, its not a matter of if, its a mater of when. We are the creators of a world relived from our mental confusion. Life is filled with chaos. A chaos of thoughts, a chaos of emotions, use what you can use and discard the pull of negativity when you can. Those angry days bring us to our knees, we re storms brewing in tiny teacups and when we explode a lot can go with it. Don't let failure tip toe around in your head, if you have a strategy use it. Don't work against time, work with her and work in a manner which
 Will make you pride yourself.

dark knights



The shadows lurk here
Cupped by the tide
A kissing silhouette
Oil
And raw
We are the
Selves
Beneath the blue
our chain links build
Hold me
And let the night
Be our song.

Beautiful African

!  

for a while I wanted to end up with an Asian guy, or this guy I thought was really beautiful. He was ethnic. Yet I realised when I went through some of the most painful experiences of my life, this dream I had, this illusion it wasn't real it didn't exist. The most I received from him ever was a beep as his car drove by and somehow I knew he was aware of the torrent of pain I was in. Never a conversation, never a smile, as others jostled or ridiculed me he' d join in and laugh, being part of this loathsome community, then it hit me today. When I go home I'm gonna. Marry a beautiful African man. I'd often hear his siblings pipe that I wasn't good enough for him, and I'd think what the hell has that got to do with it. This is not a man that's interested. I hit 30 today the big pow wow, the best news is, I'm going home and it may not be everything I imagined. There are no pretenders there. If the people hate you, they hate you, they don't beep at you in cars and then join forces with those who destroyed everything, and convince themselves it was just a game. I'm celebrating the men in my culture the ones back home, who wouldn't have joined others with poison in their hearts, and then beep at me as I walked around the neighbourhood. Happiness is one of the hardest things to find but at some point I was happy everyday, if I don't find that, I will build that from scratch back home, in whichever form. Yet I will celebrate the men that I wouldn't say belonged to me, but who would be able to approach me, laugh with me, joke with me, share opinions with me, and just get close enough to miss me when I'm gone. That will be real. Play both sides, a sick game is not what I'm looking for, I'm fighting to get my self esteem back and build something with the type of men that are allowed to love me. I will kick another gate, and laugh as I bound with energy up another street. I will build a hub, and there the next generation will kick gates too.

The psychology of a coward

it will be a while. A lot of my pain started with taking risks on the wrong person.The wrong people, then ultimately feeling a resentment take the place of love. I can't love the way I used to any more because its not pure, it will be tainted with feelings of betrayal and resentment. I resent those closest to me for not seeing the truth, for being the great pretenders they were, and knowing things, not everything, but knowing hints and sensing and never taking a stand. I call it being unprincipled, they call it wanting an easy life. My body is being crucified by medicines it doesn't need, I take those pills out of love so those around me don't fall apart. Its all a lie. I was the one targeted no one else because I was nice enough to reach out to a guy who had absolutely no self esteem, no confidence nothing, I saw his loneliness in me. I sensed the reasons why his car would line the front of my house despite meals being cooked for him next door, the barrage of questions he'd ask siblings. When he had nothing and tried to reach out to me at his lowest point, I would leave the comfort of my home run outside and wave because I saw his tiredness and his exhaustion. With all the male friends I had I heard the stories of men being snobbed because they worked in retail, didn't have a certain amount of money in their account, didn't have the flashy cars and expensive things, so I made a point, every time I saw this man I would wave, I'd ignore the beeps from his car, the slow pull of it beside me as I walked. I knew how loneliness felt. I couldn't admit this to my family I'd always been popular, and likable it was what they expected from me. I took on a jealous mother, because I knew how it felt to be an Island. I still remember the feelings as I scribbled that note, I was terrified. It was years since I'd actually thought of reconnecting to anyone. He looked like he could make a nice friend, those naieve letters of mine had ended badly in the past but he was different, seemed different. Out of pure envy bitterness and jealousy this guy single handedly destroyed my family life for me and messed up my head. I ended up in hospital, I ended up on medicines, already being someone that had been through trauma before. Despite making me the object of humiliation and ostracizing me from my whole neighbourhood, he did something worse than anything anyone could imagine. He Gaslighted me. The guy who I thought was a victim of his mother at the time and felt ostracised made sure that I felt exactly how he had felt. I wrote that letter because he was lonely, and I saw that. He used it to turn me into a joke for years to the point where I would become so furious and wonder why I'd been targeted like this, this guy used me as a platform to make friends telling people whatever he knew about our family to make his socially awkward family more liked in the neighbourhood, and despite telling those around me I wasnugly, unattractive, he wanted to end up with my sibling because she was the fairskinned one, anytime another man tried to get close to me he would go absolutely nuts. Suddenly I was the worse person in the world, conveniently right after some guy wasn't looking at me and saying I was ugly, or ridiculing me, or putting me down for my intelligence. He destroyed the most precious thing to me, he strategically tried to get me sectioned with his mother then when I started taking the drugs he would convince me that there was poison in them. I became terrified of every man at the time because of him. Whilst my family fell apart , mother sobbing, siblings crying, his remained quiet laughing with amusement boasting to neighbours about what they'd done. Despite being a black man he'd ask Asians to shout out the word Nigga, as I came through the neighbourhood. Love is a word I treasure. Its weird now because I'm going home for good I haven't told anyone at home, and the word I used to feel such ease saying,  it ends up twisted in my throat. There's people I love with all my heart their touch seems different now, home doesn't feel like home. I wrote a note to a guy who had absolutely no self esteem, no confidence nothing, at his lowest point and in return he didn't try to destroy my whole family. He did destroy my whole family. I am the heart of the family, everybody has their position, when I'm down were down, each person is the heart in their own way. The funny thing is when I'm long gone, he still won't find happiness, and he'll never find peace. Every time he sees my family he will remember what he did, and because he has a daughter there's no justification for it. Here's where it gets real I'll be free, but he won't. It will be there everywhere he turns. My family used to call him the nicest person in the household, whenever things went bad  which was rarely we'd knock on his door. I can't wait to get home, I'm excited I'm eager, why am I writing this article.

When confronting him he denied everything denied calling me a slag, slut a whore, denied paying people soul money to try and destroy my spirit, people who they pretended they weren't associated. He destroyed me so his mum would love him more, because this woman was so obsessed, so envious, so fixated, and so jealous in his logical messed up mind the way to get more of her love was to destroy me, and when I tried to move past it date other guys start relationships that's when he became more cruel, as though how dare you find love or happiness. How dare you build your self confidence. Why am I writing this, don't have a saviour complex, that lonely isolated guy who stares at his shoes when he walks and doesn't have the confidence to approach you, may be that way for a reason. I had my own issues and because he was on self destruct he wanted to take me with him. Now I'm going home. During this time despite the support I've acquired from my family, I refused to take things that didn't belong to me in my system, the things I did were to protect, yet ultimately I ended up feeling completely alone. In this lifetime I will never see this guy again, if I have to put a continent between me and the troubled people around him, I will. This guy tried to convince me to commit suicide regularly, next time you reach out to someone that's completely messed up, make sure your ready to survive yourself, and the feeling of betrayal that comes with it. This is a guy who managed to convince me that I would be gangraped, family members were killed and buried, local neighbours had burgled my home. So much. This really began with a letter of kindness to a guy who was so lonely the way I was, I couldn't just see it, I could feel it. This began with empathy.

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

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 hue...lawyer. " 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."

Dogtooth

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."

The absence of pills

" so your leaving," she studied her sister, brown eyes narrowed.
" I will. Never be far."
" You lied, you said it was a trip  a visit, you said you wee coming back."
" like I said I'm always nearby, you just won't see me and that's okay."
Tessa gulped imaginary boulders there was a pit where her stomache was, a deep sinking feeling.
" I'll miss your laugh and the way you tell stories,like you actually believed them."
" I'll be on phones." The two siblings hugged, Analise planteda kiss on her sisters cheek. " your running away again, I feel it, I know it,"
" I'm not. I think I'll be happy there. Its the first selfish thing I've ever done in my life. I hate her, I can't even be on the same continent as her." There was a heavy silence, " it burdens me,you don't know the things she's done." There was another long pause. Their gazes were steel, each one encompassed in new questions.
" when I go, I'll be free, and I won't have to hate anymore , hatred is so exhausting." Analyses green eyes shuffled over her sisters frame. " I can't continue to take drugs for a condition that doesn't belong to me, she's broken. I just don't want her to break me in the process." outside an ice cream van pulled up on the opposite side of the street,  the hot sun boring down on them like an axe. She remembered chasing that van as a kid with blue ribbons in her hair, as though she was the desert and it was the nile . They needed each other then, just like you need real things sometimes. " Im not trying to punish you, she played all of us,"
" So why leave."
" when you felt it and you knew something was off, you were too scared to admit it was others,you said it was me.you see things,"
" whatd'you mean?" Analisse ran her hands through her hair , sucked in the air.
" You saw everything and now I'm taking pills for the things you saw but dare not speak up about."

The Selves

The selves we wished we were, and it was true. As I crossed the blade across my skin I yearned to see the soft ooze of a red Nile leak its way down my cocoa butter complexion. I was numb since he left.Boulders in my throat on dinner dated with strangers who had too much knowledge about everything buy a woman who shared a shadow with a ghost. " This isn't about love, its attention you need constantly Elizabeth." Mac rolled his eyes, preferring the dramatic sigh of an actress. " I won't baby you, I'm a grown man,"
" who keeps two beds." His pale hands sliced through  a ed of curly ginger hair.I'd once loved the freckles like sprinkles of cinnamon beneath two golden Orbs,now they reminded me. Of sesame seeds.
" The psych says I'm having a breakdown, " my tone was hoarse and weak even to my own ears. "Why can't you love me, the way you love her,"
"Because were two souls in separate bodies. She isnt just a lover"
" I'm your wife." it had weight to me, but to him it packed little of  a punch. He hosed me down with a cooling stare, my blue eyes turned Antarctic. Terence licked the line of pink lips. Even as a child he had single handedly always gotten his own way, there was a ruthlessness to the angels. Something within them which ensured all roads leaded to their good fortune, and tabloids queried detectives and police agency's on mising bodies and men and women who often appeared absent would completely disappear.

The rider

The scent of sex in the air, strong pungent. Isobelle had gotten her rider, him. Her canvas of long toffee skin, lay upright against the red brick walls. Back firmly positioned against the slick leather of a rustic bike. Brown eyes wide with hunger, sometimes she reminded him of a leopard or a jungle cat, predatory and domineering. The silk was unbuttoned exposing the rise of succulent breasts, his mouth cocooned each bud refusing to be a starving man any longer. The throb of an erection like a sword pushed through the web of material.They moaned into each others ear drums, her nibbling on his lobe, before lowering some kisses to the nectar that would flow from an already prepared instrument. Reno Davis leaned over Selena Moore thrusting hard and deep, feeling her breath like a fan as he picked up momentum. The rhythm of two bodies, in sync, riding into oblivion. " Please," she pleaded as his thick arms lifted slender legs higher probing deeper, encompassing everything. For inhis hub of metals and spanners, inside her was another home  which he belonged too.

mother

The smile that carries
When days are rough
My autumn breeze
My summer song
And as you speak
A Hearst it throne
A love belongs
No secret lies
You were
Gods joyous surprise
My compass
And my bed of pearls
Rose carpets
For you
Fireflies that twinkle
Between dreams
And angels skate
To keep minds
Clean
There is no Icarus here
for you
My love
Are my only sun

The Quiet Love

image from loveforasianguys.blogspot.com

It meant something to her yet absolutely nothing to him, not the way it should. The way bodies intertwine melting like chocolate, conversations open into the morning. She had loved him, it was February the fourteenth she had seen and she had loved that awkward walk, the hair that was rugged as though it were sketched and hewn on an artist pad. “  Are there things you want to know about me?” she opened with frustration, her morning breath hanging like a cloud in the cardboard room. “ Is there something you want me to know?” His eyes as two bolts of cocoa remained hypnotic in the dark. She enjoyed the way they swallowed the plunge of her neck to two voluptuous breasts full and heavy for a girl her age. “ Likes, dislikes, my favorite spread on pancakes, the last book I read, who I’d snog, marry, and avoid, who my favorite actor is, what my favorite drink is,”

“Lets start with one.” He spoke in a baritone that could melt butter. There were fourteen years between them. “ What’s your favorite book? “

“Judith Mcnaughts Paradise, I’ve read it at least fifteen times.”

“Your favorite film?”

“ What’s eating Gilbert Grape and the basketball diaries starring Leonardo Diccaprio,” He slid a slender finger between what he had described as the lap of luxury, the soft wet between her thighs, swallowing a nipple whole, then trailing tender kisses below her navel to where a begging of nappy curls lay like springs. “ We’ve been doing this for too long to be a one night stand.” There was silence. It was a razor silence. His hand froze as they pierced the inside of succulent secret parts, the wet tempting what throbbed him , his logic failing Aidan Rush. “ I can’t marry you. I can’t marry a black girl you know this.”

She wrapped two hands crisscross protectively across her breast. She’d never felt exposed with him, suddenly her pecan skin felt naked and dirty, as though she were a blemish on his bed. “ Were both ethnic, your Asian.”

“My parents wouldn’t accept you,” her small fingers trailed across his Cappuchino skin, “ I’m already promised to someone.”

“I’ve given you three in between spaces of my time,”

“Were strangers who share a bed sometimes.” She studied his handsome profile even in the darkness he was beautiful. His soft brown eyes, the beard he fashioned when cushioned against her neck that tickled her neck and awakened her senses. “You make me feel like I’ve been sucking on a lozenge for a really long time, and it’s a trip,” she uttered into the near black. If she had been bolder that night she would have confessed the nights she sat beneath the painted sky, owls hooting, the magic of her veranda like a cinema scene thinking only of him. “You don’t even know the basics about me,”

“I don’t know how ill think a year from now, if I do plan to marry Rebena.”

“Is she pretty,” she tossed with an attempt at nonchalance.

“I’ll tell you a secret.” He spoke softly. He placed a hand on her flat stomache, “I keep my cards very close to my chest, and I want to live inside your body.” The sentence warmed her. It made her toes curl, and her eyes become even lazier with seduction. “I’m just someone that needs time. And by the way What’s eating Gilbert Grape isn’t your favorite film you say it because you think it makes you sound sensitive to those with….concerns,” he paused, “ your favorite film is Godfather you’ve seen it 42 times your just scared that admitting that would make you sound too masculine as your very Tomboyish. Your favorite book is the De burgh bride, but you don’t talk about it too much because the writer isn’t as high profile as Judith Mcnaught. Your favorite drink is Rose, with a touch of lemonade and a hint of Cinnamon because you like to make all these weird cocktails,” his teeth were brilliant in the darkness, “ you hate biryani because it gives you the runs but you love Samosa’s, your favorite food is African rice and stew, Lobster with a side of spicy snail. How am I doing? “ Azalea was stunned into a pregnant silence. Rasheed turned over and at that went promptly to sleep.

Compass Love

“I compass you, I love this day. its ours, there’s nothing simpler than this.” Rosalita glared at her husband beneath the silk of the Ivory moon. “It bites me, it eats me, that you choose to leave like this,”

“cancer is slow, it’s humiliating, it’s crippling, I wont be me.”

“We fought for those vows, in front of all those people, we said we’d be timeless,”

He took her hands softly cushioning their moccochino skin in the warmth of his. She scrutinized his plae fingertips and the blue veins  like stretch marks, crawling along a flesh she’d once said belonged to her. The girl who cycled near the Rose bush on Crestwood green;with the pig tails in her hair. Rosalita never trusted the chemicals in makeup, so face painting was something she never did. Joseph liked the naturalness of her, she was like the ease of the tide, shocking at times, overwhelming yet cooling to your senses. “Time is not something I have.”

“ I need you.” It was uttered, a sentence which has never marked life before. “ The rooms need you, the house needs your scent, the mirror needs your smile and the bed begs for you, my bed, our bed, where we promised all our many gods to produce an army.”

“ Our children would have been beautiful don’t you think.” She perched beside him now, the lilly white sundress kissing the aquamarine water. “ I’m gonna make you fight!” She swallowed a breath of air fist clenched. “ Drowning is too piteous for the man I married, I watched something on tv they say your lungs get filled with so much water, they explode. “ Her almond eyes lit with a look of supple warmth her lips moved tenderly over the sentence that would engage him. “ I read in the news somewhere that a couple who did everything together, died on exactly the same day, side by side, that should be us.” She placed a soft kiss on the side of his cheek, smiling as they turned a rouge color.  “ This is me,” she tilted his face, till emerald eyes shone directly at her, and a dimple lifted faintly, “asking you to hold on. There’s a whole world waiting for us. Don’t leave me to see it by myself.” He ran thick hands, through Midnight almost strikingly blue hair. His rugged features, and rakish good looks still promoting a  sensuality the world of women would admire. 

river flood

The wind in the
Willows
And the whisper
Of trees
Crinkled leaves
That crumble
In the waking autumn
And the singing
Jackdaw
That captures
The wake of the
Moon in its beak
As humans corrupt this
Freckled land
Where all the ancients
Once would stand
The elf that springs
Into the fall
The river flushes one
And all

blood hunters

" I won't die for you,but I'll fight for you," Marco Roxsi defended ," I,'ll fight for your dreams that turned to ash, spoon feed them to you, and then," he waited without saying more. Make you whole again. He wasn't supposed to end up with a mullato, chocolate skin, eyes the colour of cinnamon, she had hooked him in a trance like a wildflower gibing off a scent. He was drawn to her immediately, the soft quilt of thick eyelashes , spiders claws, watermelon mouth, nose as sharp as a dagger and hair thick like cotton. " I still have my dreams their just delayed,"

" your passing time in a wheelchair, the last time I sawe you with a paintbrush was before the accident." Teressa studied her Nordic beauty, his blue eyes as clear as ice, mouth as trim as the tidy moustache he coveted. She didn't like the red hair on him, it made his skin look shockingly pale, and his ears more Elfish. A six foot giant of the Roxsi household Marco was the quiet one, a shadowed figure that lurked between churches and monasteries, day dreamed on park benches, ate ice creams in winter, and jogged at 4:30 in the morning when he had night sweatss. A shiver ran through them simultaneously, Marco wrapped the BL anket tighter around Teressa's wheelchair.
" How long do you think you'll stay like this?"
" I was bitten, I'm not dying."
" you said you had an accident. " Teressa covered her mouth with embarrassment, lowering her lashes as they capture Marco's burning orbs.
" your obsessed with Alistair is it him you want?" He raked  his hands with frustration through beacon hair. " its like you want everything. Their blood hunters!" He spat. " I was supposed to have dinner with you that night, you sell me out for some cheap blood hunters?"
" They bit Aieda the woman's been blind for fifteen years now she',s giving people directions." They both looked out over the small city empire, the people looked like ants from where they stood, the air was breathy and clear, and the cars beeped as though being directed by a composer. He sighed with exhaustion, and sank beside her.  " you should have never gone to that gypsy, the woman's an alcoholic ,her predictions rarely come true."
" I have an exhibition coming up,"
"And out of paranoia you went to the blood hunters."
" There's a million pounds at stake here,"
" what was the deal?" He spoke in a hushed whisper, rubbing his eyes tiredly. " your feet for your hands? You idiot!"
" its just the energy from them, their chakra, I'll get it back," she protested innocently, her brown eyes already filming with tears.
" Alastair doesn't recycle energy, governess does,"
" where's Governess? " her pitch was low, fear apparent.
"

1,000,000,000

Our obstacles challenge us, our goals pish us, and in order to achieve them you have to become themss. There are 24 hours in a day, 365 days in a year, what do you plan to ndo with that time? Wishful thinking won't get you to where you need to be. Realistic measured goals can be the difference between infinite success and failure. It doesn't have to be perfect straight away we are all diamonds in the rough and evolving characters,it will happen so long as your willing to step outside your comfort zone. Eradicate those mouth melting delicious excuses. There are a million excuses for failure and none for success. Its easy to feel like quitting, but this is your goal, the best version of you.

Mighty motivation

Image by artofonli

Whenever you feel insignificant,do something that gives you pride.validate yourself and your self esteem, its easy to watch the lives of others through a glossy lens, but high achievement takes extraordinarily hard work. There are those who spend a lifetime talking about the successes of others whilst rotting away in a stew of discontent. Your journey is different to theirs, your goals are different, and when you fail rise up and stand once more that all great leaders were failures once. Our mistakes define us so long as they are not done with cruel or malicious intent, we are not perfect people, one cannot escape the perils of life itself, yet when you fight arm yourself with wisdom.

working with wisdom

Image from lomarts



Work.that's the problem many of us set goals for ourselves, yet when we put that label over it it becomes tedious, echaustie_ tiresome and worrisome. Do not stress your dreams out to the point they alienate you, discover yourtfunself as you stride towards your goal, looking for ideas that link within and between corners. It will take motivation, pushing past a self that wants to watch TV, hour long conversations with friends and selves that have nothing more than idol chatter. Change your position in this game called life, whether your defence r offence for any plan to succeed you need a strategy. Laziness won't get the job done, procrastination with useful tips and idessnwhich ruminate in your mind making you melancholic, a dream is like a love, you fight for it.

The foreigners of friendship: getting past loosing a friend

Missing someone can be more than painful, that ache of longing, the conversations you wished you had. Missing your best friend is the strangest thing, their there, but their not still there and if your a sensitive soul you feel their presence everywhere. Last night I had a dream about my best friend I was upstairs and the phone rang, it was the old cream phone we had in the living room. I heard a soft voice down the other end of the line, it was vulnerable and innocent just the way she had been, we talked briefly and made plans to meet up and discu

ss.

The hardest thing in life is letting people go their presence haunts you, you remember stupid things like the way they laughed, the sparkle in their eye, but most of all who you were at about that time. The happy self, an infinite self, a joyous self, but time changes and life changes us.

There will be days when you feel nostalgic, days when you miss them so much it may hurt, but time is a great healer. We move on and allow new people into our lives, and we learn to create our own happiness.

Most resourceful site online :

Writer, photographer, and creative genius Samantha Watson shows us how to manage Social Media platform, with the use of her intellect and an exploration of the net.

Watson's site is hip, stylish and easy to navigate from being a prolific assistant at Hope Road, words of colour and an extensive background in journalism and media, she continues to triumph with a series of informed discussions on social media, and how to elevate yourself on the net. Check out

WWW.Samanthawatson.org.uk

standing tall

Image from porterfieldsfineart

Weak men are easily defined, they crave power. Whether its a guy exalting a conflict with a woman to put himself on a pedastal. When it comes to ignorant people let the bets be off, you may have moments of kindness, times where you think maybe I should rechange my position, but if all that person has is tearing you down, their lost already. Leave them to their delusions of grandeur, misery only breeds more misery, let cowards play with their own inferiority complex, let selfish people destroy themselves, and let those who crave power attempt to use their skills to find self esteem elsewhere. Your confidence doesn't belong to them. Be grateful for those who have wisdom to see beyond their lies and fight to evolve past it.