Category Archives: Writing

It’s 6am, I’m back at my parents, lying in bed after a skinful that actually lifted me for once. But as the dog barks from early walkers trigger prongs of an intruder’s morality, I remember that I’m a body that must act, and act quickly. One must lift up and make their flesh out ofContinue reading “The white noise of self-improvement instructions”

I remembered something today that I don’t often think about, and, thus doesn’t feature in my personal narrative. When I was 4 years old my nursery school teacher was concerned that I wasn’t developing to the same standards as the rest of my group, and she suggested to my mother that I be kept behindContinue reading “If only I’d been kept behind”

Another heavy night, waking up cringing at the ritual, the darkest of my albums on my last played. Regrettable messages sent. Yet somehow, despite an aching injury keeping me awake, I woke up feeling alright. The inner monologue, the mode I go into as I react to the world and the state of affairs IContinue reading “Is there freedom in accepting failure?”

Sorry for writing this. I’m supposed to be an artist that people look up (well a few people who don’t know me personally may still do so) but my uncontained rage at how social media makes self-promotion of one’s distress, before it has even been hashtag-uttersd has made me speak more on here. I haveContinue reading “As an adult things have never felt ‘ok’”

“Don’t rest your life around this hope”. I’m 21. I’ve only been coming out in town for 7 months. In the space of 2 years I’ve gone from being in the grips of anorexia, to exchanging it for the hope that I can be who I want to be and also find happiness. I can’tContinue reading “May 2005”

We used to sit down, Cross legged. I’ve often wondered how. I can only seem to sit cross legged now on the softest of grass. That spongy moorland type of grass, where gravity gives us a break. I was insular. But was I shy? I can’t remember. I had a dummy until my fifth birthday.Continue reading “1990”

Guilt and shame are states that I have suffered with most of my life. They produce incredibly powerful feelings of having done something wrong, that can make other people appear as giant towering figures of authority in my head, whom I need to plead with for forgiveness so I can be free of any futureContinue reading “Guilt breeds the guilty”

I woke up with deep uneasy sighs, memorising a lad I once knew confronting me and pushing me into a state of defencelessness, the state I’d drop into when confronted by anyone who actually knew how to handle themselves. Once again I was 11 going on 12. I’d come out of school, into the topContinue reading “1995”