I have never known the peace
just the endless gnawing hunger
Desperate and empty,
with all the stability
of an imploding star.
I crave the hearts of worlds
not my own,
across the cold yearning
of my own expectation,
hollow hands with open palms
reaching ever outward. Continue reading A Supernova’s Discontent
Writers are storytellers, first.
We are brushless painters, chisleless sculptors.
Architects of new realities and crafters of perception.
We are the hero and the villain and the comic relief.
The inexorable sadists,
the indelible masochists.
We are the light at the end of the tunnel
and we are the train.
I’ve been told that writer’s are little more than professional liars, career procrastinators and champions of solitaire.
TRIGGER ALERT: Graphic Self Harm.
This is an amazingly powerful song. I watched the clip, cringed, identified, and watched it again.
It’s one of the most stunning pieces of lyrical honesty I’ve heard in a long time with an incredible message of strength and being your own salvation.
While I’m not usually a fan of female rappers, Angel Haze has this intensity and clarity in both her rhymes and her message that has me helplessly hooked. Everyone should hear this song, if the trigger alert is too much for you (& it is confronting, especially if you, like me, have history) then I’d advise you to press play and scroll down or at least read the lyrics under the cut. Her words are unflinchingly honest and saturated in genuine meaning.
So… I could not be more excited right now! It’s one thing to have the people that love you (and are there for obligated to say nice things) tell you they love your writing, it’s another entirely to have a fellow blogger, especially one as amazing as Lulufille, think you deserve recognition.
A huge thank-you goes out to Lulufille for the nomination along with a recommendation to check out her awesome blog. Seriously. Her views on the fallout of a broken upbringing are stunningly honest and gorgeously well written. Her posts somehow manage to inject a touch of hope and humour into an otherwise difficult subject matter in a way that makes it an addictive read. I urge you all to click the link and browse a while, if you’re anything like me you’ll be hooked.
Rules for accepting the Very Inspiring Blogger Award:
Thank you to the amazing blogger who nominated you, with a link back to their blog (above).
List the rules and display the award on your blog (here).
Share seven facts about yourself (below).
Nominate fifteen other amazing blogs and comment on their posts to let them know they’ve been nominated (below).
Seven Facts About Me:
- I collect novelty teapots, tertiary qualifications and books. I have all the books I’ve ever read and I hoard them compulsively. I once used half my kitchen cupboards as extra bookshelves.
- I have Dissociative Schizophrenia and I choose to live unmedicated. I’ve never responded well to any of the meds and I’d rather spend my life on an emotional roller coaster than as a zombie. Lesser of two evils and such.
- I overthink everything. Absolutely everything, all of the time. It’s exhausting. I am also sometimes terrified of my own intellect, I feel like my potential is mad at me for failing to live up to it
- I am a recovering heroin addict. I’ve been clean for 3 years now but I still sometimes wake up in the middle of the night craving so badly I can’t do anything but curl up in the foetal position and try not to cry. I’m told it gets easier, I’m still waiting.
- I would very much like to be funnier, or funny at all really.
- I am the eternal plant killer, there are more dead pot plants in my past than I’m entirely comfortable with. It’s safer for everyone if I keep my contact with gardening strictly limited to the admiration of other’s skills.
- I would one day like to make Martha Stewart seethe with envy in the face of my baking, organisational and homemaking skills. I accept that there’s virtually no chance of this happening but it’s nice to dream.
And now, here are my own nominations…
These bloggers are fabulously talented and you should click each and every link!
There’s calm to be found in the predawn hours,
in the still silence of a world still sleeping.
When the quiet settles into the foundations and even the cracks seem to fill with it, seeping out onto the floor.
Valium laced thoughts tumble in slow motion,
offering rest, relief, redemption.
An invitation for submission,
an overture made in vain.
Sedation has no hold in the face of sedition.
There’s a buzzing under my skin that tells me to run,
to throw myself into the abyss to see if
Gods and monsters look the same in the dark.
The midnight hours call to me.
Staking their claim with sighs torn from bitten lips.
A hedonist’s celebration of innocence lost
marked, claimed, owned.
Power intoxicates; it’s provocative scent drugging my senses,
a witching hour rose,
blooming in the new blood flush spreading dark across your throat.
The familiar, voyeuristic gaze of a kindred boogie man skulking
in the shaded edges of my own and I wonder
If I too
Am the monster
Under the bed
The midnight hours call to me.
Silent pleas smothered by the terror of nightmares half formed.
Shivering in the wake of dread’s ethereal touch
Haunting, chilled, reverent.
Blending with the staypleasemore of lovers and the lonely,
a non-believer’s prayer.
I am a vampiric spector, drinking deep from desperation’s veins,
inspiration sweet on my tongue as I twist pain
into prose and I wonder
If I too
will burn to ashes
in the dawn.