“If only this next journey unveils something.” Chasing the idea. An idea that The idea might finally manifest itself. Chasing it for 20 years. The infamous accusation aimed at Millennials is that they can’t afford their own homes because they spend all their money on avocado on toast – a distorted presentation of reality, so to ignoreContinue reading “20 year of coffees and Train tickets to nowhere in particular”
Category Archives: Writing
Do we need ‘The New Deal’ for sex?
“How the fuck do you know if that’s in your head or not?” Prez Pryzbylewski, The Wire. Before I even begin to scrawl these admittedly conceptually disjointed thoughts, I realise I could be acting recklessly. I, in no way, intend to speak in favour of abusers, but such grey areas of consideration must now beContinue reading “Do we need ‘The New Deal’ for sex?”
The white noise of self-improvement instructions
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”
If only I’d been kept behind
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”
Is there freedom in accepting failure?
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?”
Brookhill Close
Brookhill Close is a semi-fictional merger of my childhood upbringing at the bottom of a cul-de-sac in the late 80s/early 90s, whilst growing up watching the soap Opera Brookside on a very similar type of cul-de-sac. Watching the soap set in post-industrial Liverpool felt like looking into somewhat warped mirror of my own world, watchingContinue reading “Brookhill Close”
As an adult things have never felt ‘ok’
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’”
May 2005
“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”
1990
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 breeds the guilty
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”
John B Ledger 