Tag Archives: truth

Tears prove nothing

I don’t cry any-more because it never proves a point

Tears can fool people into believing any viewpoint

Tears are the enemy of a truce

Because liars use them always to show their false proof

The strongest person alive will use this tactic alone

To prove to others to stand by them, though they lie to you things unknown

Don’t believe in tears alone

I don’t cry for what’s happened to me

I don’t sit there forcing you to believe

If you don’t want to, I don’t care

All I know is, the truth is out there

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Filed under Poems S - U

You can’t judge a person by their face

A person can be many behind their familiar visage

A person of good will or an evil doer at large

No one knows the truth in them, not everything they know

So when someone who is kind to you, to another it isn’t so

A face can have so many forms, depending on who you are

To one they are a devil from the depths of Hell, to you a wondrous star

So when others try to defame the one you love, always remember this

That love isn’t always truth and kindness and ignorance isn’t bliss

But do not put down the truth-sayer when you hear things that may not feel right

Because you don’t know the blamed one in both their darkness and their light

You can’t tell who someone is, not everyone’s a book

You can’t judge a person by their face; there are things you will overlook

People change in the shades of time, people grow old and wise

Some become more stupid, others will surprise

But just because you love someone, do not be blind to truth

Always listen with an opened mind, a good heart try to accept the truth

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Filed under Poems V - Z

A dying spirit

I need to get this off my chest, I apologise if the following becomes a long-winded rant and it is not my intention.

But I simply can’t do it anymore – I cannot live up to other people’s expectations and other peoples idea of what is or is not morally correct or what is or is not true; Everything that I talk about regarding my current life and my past are all true in my eyes, but a lot of people will deny that it is the truth and I can understand why they would lie about that – they are trying to socially protect themselves because they treated me wrong and don’t want the ramifications of how others may perceive them for it.  I appreciate their feelings on this, but I won’t hide the truth, I won’t keep deleting things just because the truth fucking hurts them, they never take into account how much their actions have hurt me so why the fuck am I so bloody accommodating to them?

I have rights too, I have a right to express myself anyway I blooming need to in order to heal.  Living a life of quiet pacification is literally killing me as a person and me as an artist/writer.

Living the life that my previous abusers want me to, is killing the person that I am in every way shape and form that a person can be!

I took on this blog back in winter of 2012 purely as to act as a form of therapy for myself as recommended by my therapist, he suggested I talk freely about everything I want to regarding my life, he recommended that I also use it to bring back the creative person I was again.  It worked until some people found out a few things about my mum they never knew before and they like defensive little minions went and told her and defended her and grouped up on me via telephone and emails to hound me to tell everybody who reads my blog that everything I said was a lie.  They wanted me to lie about the truth I told – they demanded then that I go to London again and at a family gathering literally grovel for my mother’s forgiveness in front of them!  I am quite serious about what I just said; they did demand this of me!

Every time I say something about them on my blog, I do run the risk of anyone in my family still sticking around to read what I am saying, relaying and potentially getting telephone calls and emails again, which is why I had to change the telephone number and we are considering moving because of this, because I can’t be silent anymore.  I need to express everything I have gone through and I feel it is my calling to help others who have gone through the same coercive upbringing as I have, by talking about my past.  A coercion that I was raised in is quite unusual but not unheard of and many people who have experienced this kind of abuse rarely talk about it, because of how violent a large amount of people can get if they hear of it.  You see it is usually lead by one individual who has a large social circle who will act like posse to reign in the abused child if they start getting out of hand or rather, start becoming independent and so-called rebellious to their clique ideologies. 

It rather like living with a mafia minded family with an extended social circle of friends all of whom think alike, like a big extended hive mind. 

This kind of abuse is hard to deal with for a lot of therapists; I have never found one who has been able to help me.  They all suggest that various people of whom have taken a part in controlling me should go and see them, but who the fuck will go up to their abusers and say “you know what?  My therapist wants to see you as I seem relatively stable in comparison to you guys”.  Lol – no one is going to do that and the therapist appreciates that for safety reasons it is probably best not to suggest it.

You know how badly the revelation to my mother has affected me? 

I became for a long time now, primarily a poet who occasionally dips into abstract impressionistic paintings, because I have been scared to talk about anything anymore.  I have even been told that some of my novels I used to write, that the family often used to read, that they see now that some of the things in my fiction work could actually be based on my supposed “poor abused childhood fantasy life”, to a certain extent a few of the themes in my stories are based on my own personal experiences, but I understand enough to know what is true and what isn’t.  That is my fiction.  The stuff I talk about regarding my life is TRUE and I state this quite clearly, the message has not been mixed!

Because I am struggling to appease my abusers so they don’t come back into my life in an aggressive way, I have almost ignored a lot of my creative expression via words and non-fiction posts.  This has led to me becoming so severely depressed that it is affecting my health badly.  I have a lot of problem with mobility of the whole of my left side of the body and I have extreme insomnia and hypersomnia – what I mean is, I can’t sleep for like 30 hours and then when I do I can’t wake up for 15 hours and sleeping comes randomly at any time and once I feel just a tiny bit tired, it is almost like I have collapsed into a coma.  Nobody can wake me up, not even Henry having a tantrum on the bed next to me; it is like I have died!  Quite often, the last thing I think about when I go to sleep is “I hope I die in my sleep – I don’t want to wake up, I don’t like the burden of my memories”.

My appetite is dead, I only eat when extremely hungry now and it is usually just one meal per day and around the side of a sandwich, coincidentally I am losing a huge amount of weight pretty quickly and my hair is around 60% white now.

To say the suppressors are literally killing me by using my own mind against me is an understatement.  I find no joy in anything anymore.  Everything about the sweet, bubbly, fun, obedient, passive, quiet, little Tina everybody once knew is dead.

In trying to force me to be their idea of perfect instead they have made me their idea of a waste of space.

For my health and sanity sake I have to heal the only way I know how.  So I am taking a risk, if they get back into my life again somehow, so be it, I am ready for the repercussions because the alternative is death anyway.  I am going to die someday anyway, why is sooner no better than later?  Would I rather die in secret of how I died and be a mystery to all who knew me forever, or do I want to die in a way where other people can understand me and understand my situation and perhaps, just maybe, stop this from happening to other people?

I know which one I have picked.

The thing is – before they interfered and demanded me to delete and shut up, I was only sharing what I thought was the minor stuff, the stuff that isn’t too big to shout about.  The stuff that is easy for my readers to digest – but now they’ve done this, maybe it is time for the real big stuff, the stuff that makes my therapists cry?  That stuff I kept to myself, that stuff I never revealed and I don’t think people like my big brother, understand there is an even darker side to our mother, than even he realises!

I don’t like talking about that stuff, because I hate remembering the really, dark, dark stuff, but how I express it here, sometimes it comes out sub consciously through my abstract impressionistic art and the images I paint are also not easy to digest for a lot of people.

But I think it is time to just be me in every way shape and form and not hide from myself anymore.  I can’t.  Shutting me away in every way possible is suffocating my spirit and body to death, I need to free myself and that makes taking big scary risks!

Because I am pretty damned sure, since November, my body and spirit is preparing to die.  I am convinced of it and I need to stop this process – not for me, but for my boy.  I care only for him, not these coercive “I have a problem with your life and truth” assholes!  No one can have a bigger problem with my life and truth than ME!  Get over yourselves you control FREAKS!

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Filed under My life

World’s hidden monsters

There is a monster that lurks within everyone

Sometimes you will find them and it will strike you dumb

Especially those that you love and trust

The discovery is unwanted because it’s always unjust

You think you know someone

You know them well

But they have dark secrets within them as well

We all do my dear

Don’t you lie to me!

Everyone has secrets

You just don’t see

You can’t know everything, the truths or the lies

You just have to wonder and realise

You aren’t with the person 24/7

If you were my dear surely you’d be in heaven?

So, what is the reason you fight for the monsters?

What is the reason pray tell?

Is it because in your deepest of hearts, you would be like them as well?

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Filed under Poems V - Z

Suck it up for she writes again

Suck it up for she writes again

She writes it all so she can heal and mend

You can’t stop her, you must not

She needs to write and she can’t stop

You must let her drivel away at words

You should allow her to sound absurd

Because you don’t know what lies beneath

The truth of everything that hides in a sheath

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Filed under Poems S - U

Corridors of my mind

I am wandering and lonely in the corridors of my mind
Heart broken into pieces, you drink my tears like wine
I suffer with your lack of patience
I am cursed with your temper too
My heart is bleeding for release
My mind is like a balloon
Will it pop under your incessant pressure?
Will it bang in its cocoon?
Is my destiny to be rescued?
Or is it to become a loon?
I don’t dare to choose my own path
I don’t dare to release myself
But how can I live with such evil?
How can I defend myself?
Only time will hear me
Will it act and save the day?
Will I be rescued swiftly?
Or doomed to fade away?
I am worried for my questions
I am scared of the future too
I don’t know what will happen to me
But I hope it happens soon
I remain in this tight spot
Until fate has turned the key
To lock me into madness
Or to release me till I am free
I don’t dare to judge what will happen
A clue of my future there is none
I just hope it happens swiftly
Release me from my mum
This was written on Good Friday 2017, 4yrs after I broke away from my mother. But, these are the thoughts that used to come to me when I lived with her. I always felt this desperate, especially as nobody ever believed me when I asked them to help me with her. Not many people believe what I say about her, but it is all true, no matter what they say.
I have no reason to lie and what hurts me the most is the fact that my own mother will sit back and tell me that those memories I share with people, good or bad memories, are false, she tried to convince me that I don’t know my own mind.
Such is the manipulation of someone who is abusive; they can manipulate even the minds of those of who believe them to be good people. They can wear any mask for any occasion they want, so if anyone in your life tries to tell you something negative about a person you respect, don’t shun it please, you never know anyone 100%.

 

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Filed under Poems A - C

Fragile Sphere

The world is but a fragile sphere floating in the endless black sea of space
More fragile than the thinnest glass when it has been knocked out of place
Yet within this fragile sphere of ours, we are set spinning into space
With no inclination of how we float, we just do and in such grace
Every mortal life is precious
Every mortal life unique
Every mortal life is special and their life’s end is always bleak
Yet we keep on spinning, in the airless space
We keep on turning with such gentle grace
And we keep on believing
That we know nothing of what we are
Yet we keep on invading
Shouting truth to justify our war
And we sometimes die for nothing
But some they die in just
And some they keep on believing
Because they simply must
That there is meaning to all of this
This fragility in which we live
But no one has an answer
No one has one to give
So we keep on spinning, up there in the blackened space
We keep on hoping that our life will not be erased
And we keep on dreaming of things we do not understand
And we keep on searching, because that’s the way of man

 

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Filed under Poems D - F

New Category & A Stand!

I used to have several accounts on a website known as Blurty.com but I hadn’t been on that site for a long time, I wanted to go back to it this week and update it like I used to – I used to update the sites with general rubbish just to help me get things out of my brain, but also inform friends on my current mood and thoughts – particularly thoughts on current affairs and creatively playing with my own mind.

Alas, it seems blurty.com no longer exists, so I feel I have to find some other way in sharing those random thought processes. 

I tried to open a new account today on a website I never been to before called Live Journal, but I personally don’t think it’s for me.  So I think I will update anything I want to from this site.

If anyone has a problem with what I know to be true, get over it.  I state only facts in this blog when talking about my past, I have no reason to lie about anything that has happened to me and I will no longer be forced to feel ashamed to tell the world what I deem to be true!

The last paragraph is aimed at various relatives and friends of the family, because some people are upset that I have been honest about my upbringing, to the extent they have called me a liar and have threatened to take me to court for defamation.  Well they can try, I have spoken to a friend of mine recently who is a lawyer and they said that if I had evidence through social services of what went on as a child, the case would be thrown out of court in my favour.

So therefore, I no longer have anything to fear, as my parents very nearly lost me to social services when I was 12.

I want to be able to talk about anything I want in this blog, but obviously the main subject of the blog is creative fantasy, poems, stories, reviews, this is why I have created another category called Brain Drain and Dribble, so you know that this is purely what’s going on in my mind right now – it will contain flashbacks, memories, rants about current affairs, anything… this is in an effort to keep my blog active during blocks of time where I am not posting creative stuff.

Sit back and enjoy, this category will be dramatic and touch on sensitive subjects at times.

 

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Filed under Brain Drain & Dribbles

Lies, truth and love

Locked in cold stone walls
Shut away and forgotten
Forbidden to live a life
By those who are mean and rotten
Lied about by your torturer
Hissed at by their friends
A mystery to others
Yet no one helps you mend
People accuse you of being the trouble
People accuse you of being bad
Yet nobody knows that the woman they love
Is evil and nasty and mad
Some have seen the truth, a glimpse
But unsure, they look on
And eventually I run away again
And hope that I can belong
But away I went and then there was more
Trouble and lies and hate
But the people who witness the things going on
Think it is I who has caused this fate
They won’t be told that someone they like
Have two sides to their personality
Instead they decide to add to my torment
Thinking they are defending their mother, naturally
But they don’t remember I am not the only one
She has kept in the dark and cold
I am one of three and she hates two
But the oldest one, he never knew
He won’t accept the truth
My father is lovely and it pains me to say
I might never get to see him again
Because she rules him, and he won’t come
To visit me and his grandson
Because she lies to all around, that she gives him a choice to come around
But she doesn’t you see, the truth is this
She would rant and she would spit
If he came knocking at my door
So until she dies, I’ll see him no more

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Filed under Poems J - L

I wonder why the hate dies

I fell into the pit of lies

I was too naïve to see through your clever guise

Though I trusted you then, before my major fall, I know what you really want from me

The person you think a fool

But now I’m wise to your vicious game and I shan’t treat you quite the same

Because I will not fall again, and really you know why

Verily that’s why I sigh, at your vain attempts to lead me on again, your attempts have been nine or ten and then you finally give up and leave and I cry

But I often wonder why?

I am released from your endless lies, the relief is abundant, but I –

struggle to realise now you’re gone even though you did me wrong, the hate for you dies

And I often wonder why?

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Filed under Poems G - I