Oh! Things have changed!

Ok so, it’s been so long since I had last written that the website has been updated and the actual format of the ‘new post’ page has changed… interesting. I’d first like to apologise for my lack of writing, I’m sure many of you have missed me.

The occasion of my writing comes upon many things. The first of which was my doctors appointment yesterday evening. I finally plucked up enough courage to admit  the struggles I have faced with myself for most of my life. It was not easy and there were several occasions upon this confession where I almost cried. It was very difficult to admit there is a problem out loud, especially when I’m so used to harbouring these thoughts and feelings. So, I’m kind of proud of myself for that. For so long I tried to pretend like I’m ok by helping others face their own problems. I’ve been on the outside looking in, because I was too afraid to lift my head from the sand. This has both helped me and made me feel worse.

I knew university life would be hard. Whilst in college, I didn’t think I could do it. The thought of me living by myself and so far away from my family, I thought was ridiculous and I knew that I would feel like this. I had no idea how to look after myself. Not just physically but in every way; and I do feel like I neglect myself. My room became a tip, I looked like a cavewoman and my life feels shit. So I have decided that today, I’m going to take a ‘me’ day, because I’m ill and I need to feel better.  Just getting out of bed is the hardest thing to do at the moment. I am up though.

I found this band a few days ago called ‘Laboratorium Piesni’ and they are amazing. Their music is so tranquil and that’s helped me so far. I’ve lit incense, opened my blinds and I’ve un-littered my room. I think just doing that helps a lot. The moment I woke up I started to try and do essay work. I have 5 assignments due after Christmas and I go home next week. Just the thought of writing 10,000 words over Christmas is frightening as well as all of the reading I’ve got. However, I realise that I don’t work like others may. I can’t do all-nighters. I’ve had trouble waking up so I need a very early night. I’ve been using Facebook unconsciously as escapism and that’s getting in the way of my time. Time to say good bye to the app. Last year I realised that the only way I could focus was to focus on myself first. When I worry and panic, I forget this. I forget everything, quite literally. And it is fricken scary.

I’m writing this post to banish the bad stuff from my head and hopefully free it so that I can focus on essay things. Tonight I’ve got a presentation on what Paganism is. It’s really important and I need to get better for that. Wicca is my passion and it’s saved my life once before. It’s important that other people understand just what Paganism is. It’s not about converting people, it’s the religious education that you weren’t taught in school. I don’t want my future in-laws to worry about me wanting to share a Pagan style wedding or any of the other rites of passage with my boyfriend. I made a joke about just telling everyone I’m Buddhist. Much less stigma to deal with on that front.

Anyway, the society is going well. We held a stall at the faith fayre last week and it looked smashing. That’s the picture for this post. We made quite a bit of money altogether and it was great to meet people from the other faiths. I’ve also begun with a project of connecting pagans across different universities and colleges. It has certainly been interesting! See, feeling much better now! After this I’m going to get some toaster waffles. After yesterdays appointment I walked home and but my knees felt like jelly and I felt ridiculous so I decided to treat myself to nice ‘breakfast’ although it’s a bit late for breakfast now… Anyway, I think that’s just about everything I wanted to articulate. Keeping calm and not losing my head is going to be the hardest part for me over this next month or so but I think, with the right support, I can do it.


Thank you so much to those that come and keep up with the news, hope it’s been interesting for you! Blessed be everyone, and be blessed x



Fear is the faceless man
at the back of the room
that knows me too well.

Fear is the creeping cold
that you can’t escape,
and hits you like fate.

Fear is a darkened room
with no hope of light,
and no chance of sight.

Fear is a quiet noise,
the white noise,
that deafens.

Fear is the broken cord
of a wasted life
filled with pure strife.

Fear is the uncried tears
of a lonely girl
whose wings won’t unfurl.

Fear is the building of phobias
that clutch you,
with grubby claws
and claim you as their own.

Stop Haunting Me

I want to forget
I need to forget
I need to move on from

I want to forget your shining smile,
I want to forget how we drove for miles,
I want to forget our very first dance,
I want to forget our future plans.

How do you still linger
On my clothing?
How does your face appear
On everything?
How do I keep you away?
How do I still want you to stay?

I want to forget.
I need to forget.
I need to move on from.

I need to forget your friendly voice,
I need to forget that you were my choice,
I need to forget your loving eyes,
I need to forget all of your lies.

Why are you still here,
Lurking in my dreams,
Paddling in the seas,
Chasing after me?

You pulled the plug,
You walked away.
I’m still here,
Holding tight of what’s dear.

I want to forget.
I need to forget.
I need to move on from.

I need to move on from the cuddles and kisses,
I need to move on from being your missus,
I need to move on from the warmth of your skin,
I need to move on from our passionate sin.

I want to forget you.
I need to forget you.
I need to move on from us.

The Wild Thing

I lay in bed,
With wild thoughts,
And wild dreams,
Of wild things.

And I see you,
The little boy,
With a lion heart,
My wild thing.

And we dance,
A wild dance,
Older now,
But no less wild.

And I tease you,
In a wild way,
Untill we fight,
In a mild way.

Then I laugh,
Untill you see me,
Wildly laughing,
With my big, strong wild thing.

But still silent,
My wild thing,
Makes me feel like
I could sing,
While he roars,
And we chest beat an encore.

In wild fashion,
In my wild way,
I dream of the wild boy,
Who lives to laugh and play.

I know this way,
Wild will get to stay.

The Description Of A Cloudy Mind

Fog fills the tunnels,
of this empty mind,
where time has no place,
and people lack face.
Here, time is still,
yet things move so fast,
or they don’t move at all.

These rhythmless cogs,
turn doesil,
whilst images quickly fade,
in my fragile mind.
One drop and I’m gone.

Gone, gone, gone.
Where has time gone?
Where have you gone?
Who else will go?

Let it be known:

That I am not strong;
I am of fearful heart,
terrorised by the same nightmares,
the nightmares of a broken child,
but it must be told:

that time has no right here;
days blur to weeks,
weeks blur to months,
months to years;
yesterday can feel like yesteryear,
and yesteryear only yesterday.

That speculation creep the corners,
of my panicked temperament,
raptures any sense of relaxation,
and eliminates the carefree.

That I do natter;
I moan and I cackle,
my heart is as fragile,
as an elder held shackled.

That my soul is cracked on through;
it’s wrecked my head, and my heart too,
it wrecks havoc with my perception,
leaves me open to sorry correction.

I don’t know where I am.
I don’t know where I’m going.
I fall from place to place;
I fall from time to time;
I hold on to every place;
as I fall through the empty space,
that is this clouded mind.

Gender Politics

I’ve been thinking of writing for this for some time but have often dropped out of the mood to write it. Today I am ignoring the urge to not write anything and I think this is an important topic to write about. It started off as a question that I dared not to physically ask. I have a friend that, when we met, identified as being a ‘non-binary trans’. As an English student, I know what these terms mean. Had I have not gone to university, I probably would have had no idea. LGBT+ issues don’t generally tend to pop up in Yeovil. Everything is pretty conservative and traditional. Homosexuality is a thing, obviously. I have lots of gay/lesbian/bi friends but there isn’t much of a known trans community in Yeovil and LGBT+ issues aren’t all that talked about. it’s not like there are rainbow rallies at any point through the year, through the Quedam and down Middle Street. So, have I have not gone to uni, extended my vocabulary and met a great range of new people, I would have been completely ignorant of what my friend was talking about and would have absent mindedly agree with that they had said about their identity without having the guts to ask what it meant due to embarrassment.

However, I’m not completely clued in. I don’t pretend, well actually, I do a little, to know everything about the LGBT+ community and their issues. Not wanting to sound silly, or offend anyone, is what it all boils down to. So I was talking to my friend when I referred to them as a man. My friend corrected me by using the term ‘person’ and I felt a little silly and apologised. I then began to think about what I’ve called ‘the pronoun game’ and I know I’m not the only one to talk about it, but I am going to talk about it now. He is male. She is female. It is non-gendered. They is plural. Where does the person that does not feel they fit into a particular gender ideal fit in terms of the English language? It feels for too impersonal and inhuman. Using they is a breach of grammar rules. Do we completely invent new pronouns? I have seen the use of ‘Xhe’ and words surrounding this but I would have no idea how to pronounce this in a sentence. I saw a Tumblr debate on this. There were lots of comments that said that they respected the choices of Trans people on changing their gender identity and using the correct term that suits them. However, lots of people refused to change their language for those that could not identify with any given gender norm.

I wasn’t sure where I fit in this ‘debate’. I thought about it on the bus home a few weeks ago and I felt that gender wasn’t necessarily a yes or no question any more, and it may we be a case that it can’t be in the future. Of course, that’s hugely speculative of me. Instead of exclusive categories, I instead looked at gender as a spectrum, like colour. Masculine on one end, feminine on the other and people dotted about all over the place because I’ve never met a man that is ‘all masculine’ nor have I ever met a woman that is ‘all feminine’. Of course, that is masculine is a social construct anyway and these things do change from place to place and over time. I’m also aware of people not wanting to be on any part of the spectrum; genderless, but not sexless. So when it comes to pronouns, are we addressing gender, or are we addressing sex? Because gender and sex are different. Sex is male or female, and is decided upon which reproductive organs we are born with and which hormones we have rushing around our bodies. Gender is masculine or feminine- boy or girl, which is decided upon by our culture, social rules and regulations. One is outward and one is inward. One can effect the other.

This isn’t really meant to be educational in any sense, but reflective. Is our language far behind our time? Have our culture and politics out run our language? Do we need updating? And how would all this happen? Studying English Language A Level at Yeovil College gave me a lot of insight into how the language evolves or remains the same. When our society as a whole is evolved to a point, then our language too shall change. When everyone is knowledgeable about gender issues then the language shall be modified to suit the needs of the people. Right now, we’re just not at that point yet. ‘Xhe’ isn’t going to catch on for quite a while with the majority, if that’s the term non-binary, genderless, androgynous, unisex ect. people wish to be identified as. Maybe in the future gender will cease to exist? Can it? Who knows.

Thanks for reading guys, see you soon! x

A Penny For Your Thoughts

“A penny for your thoughts?” the old man cries,
A penny for the tears that fall like flies?
A penny for all your endless goodbyes?
“A penny for me?”

“Any spare change?” the old man pleads,
“Any spare change for a nice cup of tea?”
“Any spare change to help us flee?”
Any spare change so we can be free?

“Give me some coins?” the old man begs,
“Give me some coins?” for he’s hurt his leg,
“Give me some coins?” his minds a power keg,
“Give me some coins for a nice scotch egg?”

“A penny for your thoughts?” the old man now whispers,
As the day draws nigh,
But he holds on tight.

“Any spare change?” the old man coughs,
As he pulls ’round his sleeping bag,
And lights up his last fag.

“Spare me some change?”
But he knows it’s no good.
Who will listen in this neighbourhood?
When society ignores its’ ugly face
Of poverty and elite race.

The Angels And The Demons

Crows sqwark these dark streets
where demons and angels alike do meet.
They fall in love, with irony,
but fall apart so slowly
that they rip each other to shreds.

Like for like, or do opposites attract?
It’s Cupid’s secret which he shares not.
It’s his poison arrow weapon
that hits these self destructive hearts,
and drags them back to a pathetic start.

Which way do these creatures turn,
knowing there’s so much left to learn?
Immortal time passes through immortal hands,
of the demons and angels here.
Here in this abyss of heartache and irony
they rip themselves to shreds.

How Does Love Come To Be?

Sitting on my grandfathers knee,
I asked him how love came to be.
I just couldn’t understand how you could fall
down to its’ beckoned call.

My grandfather laughed at my foolishness,
when all I could think was: love is a mess!
What kind of girl needs to be saved
by a silly boy that pretends to be brave?

All my grandmother could do was wince.
“Your grandfather was my handsome prince!
My dear, my dear, can’t you see?
Your grandfather was the one that saved me!”

I had heard the story a million times;
I had heard all the lines.
My grandfather, the soldier,
fresh from war,
came running back through my grandmothers door.

Forced to marry a snivelling worm,
my grandfather made his offer firm.
He took my grandmother far away,
but my grandfather wasn’t allowed to stay.

But he fought and he fought;
he wouldn’t let them get caught
by their terrible parents whose approval they sought.

“Yes, grandmother, I do understand,
how my grandfather is an amazing man,
but I do not hope to find
a man who will change my mind.”

The grandmother looked down at her little granddaughter,
eager to see where her story had brought her.
She remained insistent throughout the years,
until the little granddaughter out grew her fears.

Sitting next to her grandfather now,
her back against cold stone.
“Grandfather I see now how love comes to be.
I just wish you were still around to finally see
the incredible man that came to save me.”

Reading Gives You Wings

I used to hate reading. What would possess person to waste all their precious time staring at empty words on a page? It was a boring, rewardless, time consuming punishment. Then I found it. The spark. I felt it change me; my mind expanded, my boundaries became endless. Each book I picked up was unknown territory I had to explore. I became an adventurer. I fell in love with vampires and werewolves, fought demons and dragons, time travelled and ventured to faraway lands.

Reading became my escape hatch. It’s the pair of wings I’ve spent my life pining for. Why had I not found this love sooner? Books are my dear friend now, my secret. They take me away. They make me laugh, make me cry; make me throw them at walls in anger. They make me smile, make me scream and make me fall in love all over. In them, I found my passion; my identity, within the pages along with so many lives I long to live.

It’s not a chore anymore. It’s a gift. Reading is one of the greatest gifts. Sometimes, I wish my sisters could feel this way about books. I wish they could see the magic that the authors of my favourite novels and poems have created. I wish they could feel the same release I do from this ‘boring, rewardless, time consuming punishment’, because then they could get away like I can. They could be anything they wanted to be. They could be free.

Reading is just a part of me now. Without this opportunity for imagination, you see, i imagine it to be like missing an organ or a limb. Too many take the skill for granted and don’t put it to proper use and it’s sad, really because one day I hope to be on the other end. I hope to be the one producing escape hatches and wings. I hope to make people feel for the characters like it’s all real. I hope to help people find their passion. I want to give people the gift like Lauren Kate, Cassandra Clare and Margaret Stohl & Kami Garcia gave me.