Enlightement

If you surround yourself with cold dirt, then cold dirt is what will feel familiar … cold, dirt. If you surround yourself with warm and sand, then that two shall feel familiar. What we surround ourselves with becomes the perspective in which we perceive the world.
This is the same for whom we surround ourselves with, for if we surround ourselves with like minded people, life will be easy, and it will narrow, if we surround ourselves with people whom do not think like us, whom do not perceive the world as we do, we are enlighten. Enlightened to another culture, way of thinking, insight to the world, the revelations, diversity is the world from the ferns to the sky. They have nothing in common but the sky shall inspire the fern with its height, the fern shall inspire the sky with its cycle of colours throughout the season. Their is inspiration and englightment in everything, if you want to see it. The english langauge has the equivelent of 171,476 words. When talking to another person if you cannot use any of the 171,476 words to be kind, then maybe you should look to yourself for enlightement. A human being should be respectful to another human being. We have the same anatomical heart ….. our blood is the same colour. Our eyes as beautiful in all shades… our minds as beautiful as they are complex and unique. The thing that i love most about humans are their ability to change, to become better, more determined, to solve problems, to be kinder. We all have a soul and our soul deep down all wants us to be kind, to be loved, and to give love, and empathy and compassion. All you have to do is be enlighted to the feel and voice of your soul. Your soul is the person who wills you to do good. That if you do bad, was the deep ache and voice inside telling you not too, the voice and feeling you ignored, maybe because of your physical feelings and emotions. Emotions are physical, they can affect your soul, but they do not control your soul, only your reactions.

So … if i react poorly out of anger, it is my choice to react, this can be through being hurt, through guilt, frustration, but it will never be my soul, that will make me act with anger. If i should become upset and cry, I could cry out of frustration or physical pain, or loss, however because i have empathy this is directly linked to my soul, and i can become overwhelmed with empathy for someone and cry. This empathy can be linked to the soul as the soul is another thing all human being have, it is the coat hanger to the flesh we carry round with us everyday. The soul is energy, and sometimes we feel the energy of people before we see or know their intentions. If you feel uneasy with someone, its their energy, its their soul, it does not mean they are a bad person, as i said no soul is bad. But some people soul’s can be damaged, lost and somewhat stranded through the physical world we live in. If i was to be told every day i was worthless and i was beaten with insults and names, i could become angry at the world and other people for the way i was treated and my energy would be negative and my presences be felt as that way. I think some people are sent into our lives to help heal us, or our souls, to guide them a bit, love them a bit, and nourish them a bit. These people are the secret angels that empathise too much, love too much, care without restrictions, and only ever want the best healing for the damaged souls. But sometimes the damaged souls, lash and hurt ours in the journey of us trying to heal them. Unfortunately they sometimes never realise this, or the things we have done, the love we have purely spent, and that our scars as empaths are so much deeper than those of unaware beings.

Some times the damaged souls we are set on a path to heal will discard us when we are no longer required, and that is ok, that is their choice. Othertimes you wish that you could help them more, as their narrow minded earth brain is still not awakened and neither is their potiential. But sometimes you have to hold them out and let them go…. and hope they survive and do well with all you have given, and taught them.

They are alive……

Its a one oclock blog again. I wonder why I do these blogs. I wonder who reads them, if anyone, and what they think. These are seconds that last for a moment and i am cautious of what i say. Then like the ticking of a clock my fingers sing on a keyboard and everything pours. I don’t like to think too much. As its never good. Not for me anyway. Relationships are funny things, you take two humans. These are from different walks of life, different values and experiences and throw them together. I always view the start of a relationship as a ……. Child playing with clay. When she has moulded her visions she then plays with them in her imaginary world of pretend. I think thats what we do, or I at least. I have a pretend world where i have made my clay man. To keep him there i have to play fair. To keep him strong and not for him to crack and crumble i have to understand the way he was made. But i don’t. I don’t understand me. So I am at a loss before i could ever conceive to win. Then in my pretend world everything is great. We can mould each other and smooth over the cracks. But in actuality it doesn’t get smoothed over. I choose my human and decided to love him and play with him in my pretend world. But i knew reality would make him crumble. I am just convincing myself i am now unloveable. Its not really the greatest ego boost that my ex cheated on me for two years and for the last year he still couldn’t be faithful. He would flirt with girls and send such pictures i would find out and feel sick. He handed me complex after complex and insecurities that made me shake.  Then i met another man, he was broken and not whole. I think i attract them you know.

I always saw a relationship of a somewhat unity. A team. If i was going to war the person i was with i would want on my platoon as i know they have my back. Yet i dated a guy a bullet, thats engraved and i wear it around my neck. It has a message inscribed but it was in the language he knew so a lie. I decided that I would wear it not because i love him, but because it was one of the many bullets in his gun that killed me and made me weak. But At least i knew he would never leave me. Then i met this other guy. No insecurities, no girls perfection could of been a good word. But then i spiralled and i fell and i descended to hell. Now my demobs are happy as they have me back. It was quiet lovely really how they welcomed me back. They stay up all night with me, and if ever i need company they are always there. I married demons so i can never marry a man.

I confided in a friend of what made me spiral. And as a friend does they show concern. It was nice to acknowledge the disease i have investigated and learnt thats eating me. Ooooooooh no this time its not my mind. This time its not my bipolar. I think if it wasn’t for my bipolar i maybe worse. I have the disease that consumes so many and that the word alone instills fear. It actually made me freeze. My blood ran so cold a splinter of ice must of pierced my heart, as i gasped for air. Cancer i dare. The womanly parts of me are being eaten alive. Im twenty nine and i have a unbalanced mind and a disease eating me alive. The insecurities rise and i feel bile thrown at the back of my throat. I could cry but i haven’t yet. Not over the thing that i just learnt. I think i’m numb or still coming to terms with this vile thing harbouring inside my womb. Like a spawn of satan i’m nurturing it and letting it feed on me. I am a beautiful host.  I actually can feel my breath unsteady as i filter through this truth. I admitted this two two people. Two which i trust and love and know would do anything to see me smile. But still i sit here in my ex boyfriends zip through hoodie, it faintly smells of him. Wearing dungarees bought for me as a sorry from the cheating ex, and the things i am wearing which look the best are fresh scars. Another chapter of my fucked up life. There was a time where my life was quiet happy and calm. Oh dear lord i wish for that again so bad. The marrow of my bone ache for it. They also ache for a warm embrace. But i know to be hugged would leave this little fighter with a tear stained face.

When it was revealed what i now have to face the cancer of a woman’s delicate place I was shocked nad scared then last night at 5 am i sat out my back garden. The stars weren’t too bright, but the warmth of the night kept me company. The sounds of cars passing on the road behind me made me smile. I wonder how their life differes from mine. I thought about writing, but couldn’t bare to hold my favourite pen. Then a thought crossed my mind, what if this is a pleasure of my life. I have contemplated suicide and attempted it a few more. What if now, ‘This’ disease is here to save and finish me. In a dignified way of course. As suicide is always a frowned upon course. Maybe i have created the work i was suppose too…. release the poems and art i should. Maybe i have changed a few lives, as i know a few have changed mine. I have done alot of good i know in my life, and been a good person to those i know and those i don’t, and those who haven’t deserved my time, but at least if I am lowered into the earth they will know they got more than they deserved and i can sleep peaceful. I tear slide down my face and the smile spread across my face. I own my thoughts and thats what i love about me, I’m not afraid to challenge those of a narrow or closed mind, not to win a argument but to enlighten their life’s. I have handed my notice into three magazines i write for and two support groups i run, one for young kids with self harm issues and one for support and counselling for parents of children who self harm and who have a mental disorder. My own mother do not even know of these jobs, or where i give my time willingly. My own mother knows nothing of my illness as i don’t see the point, she never made me feel ok or accepted for having a mental disorder. So why would she want to support me now, when she can just ignore and spend time with the ‘normal’ child she has. I am not bitter a part of me was. But i know i have done nothing wrong not to deserve what she has or has not done as the case stands. I am due now to turn down the book offer to have a book published, which i started to write. AS i don’t want to be stressed out right now. Writing books are hard. I have my university papers sat on my desk ready to submit to finish my last year. Even though when i printed them off i knew….. spending some time alone has made me think what do i want to be doing for a year? travelling,……… or photographing a series or two that will will remain should anything happen to me. As it’s not as simple as scrape and remove and then a few appointments to ensure things have been cut away. So maybe i will read, read every book i wanted to read. I will travel, travel to the places i want too. Maybe i will visit a few close friends who have been there from the start of my photography journey before i even knew it was a path i would go on to choose.

 

I will visit one man before the year is out. This time four and a half years ago, a man gave me the greatest tip in the world. (shadows) This man has a piece of my heart today. And i want to hold him in a embrace and thank him. For when i have doubted my work, my direction, the purpose of it all….. My darling Luca is there with his Italian charm. He has lasted longer than relationships and gave me more joy than most of them.  And even though i hate Germany, I will find him there.

 

Tomorrow i go and drive for a hour to a tattoo studio to be tattooed. The artist is amazing and I am dying to having this piece on me as for six years i have been in love with the concept of the piece. And i finally put it together and now i get to have a beautiful memoir of it. Then i will have my favourite poem inscribed on my thigh…. a quote or two more and when i lay on the slab or a cold mortuary cradle… I hope they read my tattoos and admire my artwork…. I will be a beautiful corpse in death as i was in life.

Now to try and sleep as seven hours of sleep in five days is something thats killing me. Stopping on lot of medication to be able to undergo treatment is a wonderful way to test my instability. But hey, it makes good pictures…. so at least my instability and insanity will never leave me….. never thought i would say i was actually grateful for that.

 

 

The most unanswered question in history…..

The most scientific and extraordinary minds of the last few decades and even of this era have neither solved or defined what ‘Love’ actually is.  We ask about gravity, its a force, we ask about prehistoric species and evolution. We question quantum theory and the universe, we  know very little about what lurks at the bottom of our oceans. Yet we still ask. Yet where are the questions of what love is? how it came about? who named it love? who discovered this was a emotion a feeling not a sense? How can we know so little about something that governs so much. Why haven’t the different types of love been subcategorised? I love coffee, but not in the same way I love my child. Love is a word that is throw around and used on a daily basis in daily conversations. Both with the people we love and with people who are colleagues.

Love governs us on a spiritual level on a emotional level on a physical level and a mental level. How can one four letter word some up something so big, so complex so mysterious so obvious.

Love the most deadly and destructive drug alongside heroin. Its addictive its yearned for, it changed people, perspectives, personalities, morals senses of who we are, the rights and wrongs of the world. It physically can change us as well as mentally and emotionally. The experiences I have had for me to compare it to one of the most horrendous drugs in the world must tell you something.

 

I always think of love the ‘fantasy type’ the type i want as the poem written by johnDonne ‘The rising son’ The first time i heard or read that poem, i knew i wanted someone to love me like that. I wanted to be that to someone, and i wanted to feel what it was like to be loved by someone so completely that i can almost touch their soul.  I see many poets and writers writing about love, likening it to a summers day, a butterfly or even a personification of a object. Yet when i write poetry about love, I liken it to a hunger starved frenzied fuelled wolf. The ripping of the meat the dying of they prey the oblivious wolf at his own instincts obeying his need for hunger opposed to the precious life of another, whom would not of turned on him through hunger. I suppose that doesn’t make me a hopeless romantic like i once thought i was, maybe it makes me a cynical realist.

 

My experience of love is that ‘ love does not conquer all’ It ‘destroys all’ confidence, self esteem it doesn’t make you feel beautiful it makes you insecure about your beauty. It does not comfort it makes you uncomfortable at the way he can so easily stray. The competition the idealism that i have to compete with with other girls, the images in magazines, and the perfection that so many girls seem to achieve so naturally.  I don’t care much for beauty. I know i am pretty and part of a genetic lottery that i won. Same with my physical appearance my body is slender with curves apple in the right places. I have no stretch marks, beautiful blue eyes, high cheekbones, a splattering of freckles and the ability to be whatever hair colour i desire and still look good. I am intelligent I am smart I am witty, I’am creative and I have my own house, car, business, child etc yet at approaching thirty I have not experienced a love that hasn’t left me scared so deeply that it is more feared than welcomed. Would you welcome a thief into your house after he has stole from you over and over again ? no… you wouldn’t it’s common sense.

 

So when can I ask and who do I ask what love is? why is it craved when its the most deadly thing on earth…… ?

Because simply, when its good……………. nothing else compares to it. When its good its the best drug for your senses to spring to life, for you to glow for you to be excited about. It is the one thing that makes us feel like we are truly someone.

Love is……..

 

It just is the most powerful thing to exist between two humans. I was told recently by a woman that had been married twice and lost her husband of 48 years to cancer three weeks ago to not give up the hope of love. I will share with you her story …..

Her first husband was a bastard and left her with two children, she gave him everything even her love, and was repaid with nothing but abuse and neglect. She met her second husband an used the cliche ‘ It was love at first sight’ As if she could read my mind, she held my arm and said ‘Its ok i didn’t believe in it either’ She then said that from that moment on she she she would marry him. I asked the most obvious question any novice would “didn’t you ever want to walk like leave?” Oh she said ‘We had our ups and down and once i did, I left for six weeks. He had been diagnosed with cancer and i told him don’t you dare die on me and leave me with four kids.” She gave a laugh at the fond memory and i think my heart cracked. I hope one day I can look back so fondly at my time with someone. So I asked why she left….

“I left because he sunk into such a deep depression, he wouldn’t leave the house, and i told him, you are coming to the shop with me, and he protested as his appearance was noticably ill. I told him i didn’t give a damn what he looked like i loved him and i was proud to be with such a fighter. He was mine and i was proud of him. But after he recovered from cancer he ended up taking a lot out on me and he wasn’t the man i married so i left. I had a breakdown and i left i found a little flat and i left. Six weeks and he realised what he had lost how much he loved me and we started dating again and we got back together. And I’m glad we did. It wasn’t easy to trust a man after my first husband, not at all. A cheat and a liar. But my second husband, well he would go out with the boys and get up to some tricks. But he knew who he loved and who made him happy, he knew i was loyal and waiting at home for him. And he respected me and my love enough never to betray me. That is what a man is, a respectable man that knows a woman worth.”

At this point I was crying, yet she was the one who lost her husband five weeks ago or there about, her ‘soul mate’ and i was crying. I had lost someone in a different way seven weeks ago and i wish i could talk as fondly as she could about her husband.

This woman was 76 years old and wore higher heels than i ever could balance in her appearance was pristine and her experience of love amazing. Even the fact on her 25th wedding anniversary they went on holiday and the couple next door were honeymooning, yet the newly wedded couple actually complained about the 25th year married couple for  the ‘noise’ they made. I laughed so hard when i found this out, as she so openly told me. So good sex is also the key to a happy marriage. So i asked her of the wisdom of her experience of love….

Her words simple ‘Don’t give up on love, it does exist the real love the soul mate type does, believe me. But don’t ever settle for anything less than someone loving you the best they can. Do not ever let a love be a sad or fearful type of love, as thats not love. And always be willing to compromise and express your feelings, as someone who loves you will never take them for granted or disrespect them. And most of all, smile, always smile my sweetheart, as its the only time the eyes to our soul opens up, and your eyes look beautiful when you smile.’

How she could see my smile or my eyes through my tears that would not stop creeping down my face i don’t know. But I can’t help but feel a bit cynical about love, as If its so good and soul mates are possible then why haven’t I got that hopeful feeling i once had. What if i had my soul mate and I walked away, how would i know? how would i know if the love of my life has been and gone or is yet to come? I love people in so many different ways and no lover i have ever loved in the same way. They have all been different apart from all hurting me so much it feels like my souls already in hell.

Love – the thing we know so little about but is still the reason we breath

Tearing chunks…..

Whenever i blog, it is always intensely personal, some my ask why i choose to share such personal experiences or details. Like with every image i create it is a release, a release from the emotion. In each image someone will gain something, relate in some way to words or the picture. Everyone can relate to relationships, whether they be platonic, or something else. Everyone can relate to sadness as at some point our sunflower smiles has decayed like the autumn leaves. Throughout the last three years i have experienced a relationship like no other. I found such a deep connection, so powerful. I also experienced such twisted actions and I suppose as human what i endured i projected back. The truth is when is enough ever enough? When your mind has been broken, or your heart? When do you say I cannot do this no more. I say it in a moment of strong, yet my moment of weakness i wish i didn’t. And i long for what i had back. Afflicted with a unbalanced mind is a cruel twist in which fate gave me. Sometimes i can be irrational sometimes i can be logical sometimes i can be predictable other times dangerous. I think too much and love too deep. I have bipolar disorder… though the doctors now think it is personality disorder. Which one i do not care to be labelled with as each are nailed to me with things i cant control. But oh lord from the depths of my soul i wish i could. The way someone can have a best friend, loyal kind and protective to the death. That best fried with unconditional love that you could place your life in their hands. Thats what most people have, thats the relationship most have with their mind. I wonder if it is as calm and comforting as i imagine it to be. I hope that if i was granted a fairytale mine would be to own a mind not a enemy that fights me for every breath i try to gasp.

No one can understand what a mental illness is, not even those who have one i suppose, as we don’t know what its like to be ‘normal’ but for me, being normal sure looks good. People who are ‘normal’ or who do not suffer from the enemy of their mind, can understand other people as they know what its like to feel like the other person, think like the other person. Its like talking the same language. But if you have a fractured mind, you talk another language and even those who do also carry a fracture will only understand so much of what you speak. Like broken english. This effects everything, and makes everything a chore, from even thinking to not thinking, from talking to even breathing. And when you have a unbalanced mind you have these two things that have to be stabilised, a pill is never a cure, if anything its worst. Still alive but barely breathing, is how i would describe medication. It takes the edge of the pain, the edge of the thoughts, but it makes you live and watch people talk  language you wish you could learn. You resent these perfect people who look like they can have these perfect relationships, these stable lives. Then it just makes you sad. Why was i put on this earth to watch this, what punishment is this, its torture.A anti- psychotic pill and a mood stabiliser thats what i take everyday. They are sat in-front of me right now. Almost laughing at the fact i need them more than they need me, without them i’m in a hell on earth. But with them i’m in a hell on earth that makes me less suicidal, less aware… the walking dead in a way. Existing and watching others live.  Have you every thought of the way you turn music up on a hifi system, you turn it up so loud the room shakes with vibrations,nothing is clear everything is just amplified. Yeah well thats the up i get, like i’m a human whose had an amplifier plugged into me where i feel, think , hear everything 100% more than most humans, to the point of insanity. And then on a low, like a person can be paralyzed from the neck down i’m paralyzed from the neck up. My body can work, but my mind tells it no to, my mind shuts down, it hates me and itself and it doesn’t exactly switch of it just lays idle. In a state of limbo… to the point of the only thing you feel is this heavy heavy leaden feeling throughout your body. You want to almost break out of this shell and run, but you cant, because you have been injected with this serum that all hope has just left the world. The colours of everything change, as hope has gone.

When Isolation become your only friend, your thoughts however bully9ing your only comfort.  I have been told i over react i go ‘mental’ when someone hurts me, emotionally. Yes i do. Attack is the first form of defence…. in a way. But when i have thought about why i do this, i know why, because how can you expect someone who feels everything so deeply, react so mildly. The oceans depths are unknown, and its capabilities with such a unpredictable deep thing. How can you not expect a tsunami when it reacts. What did you expect a puddle? Thats kind of foolish of you. logic comes in the form of…. if something happens once, there is no certainty it will happen again. But if i happens twice it will surely happen again. So if someone expects something to happen as it has happened so many times before then logic is that it will happen again. Yet, I am told this is not logic. Maybe thats my fucked up mind, that thinks that this seems accurate. As thats what i am told. I have no logic. I would say its less about logic and more about trust. But if i cannot trust my own mind, how can i expect to trust you or yours. You don’t speak the same language as me ….remember?  How is a person to explain how it feels to another to die if they have never experienced it. I don’t even know what i am trying to say or if i am even saying it properly to a degree where i am somewhat understood.  If a person has coloured skin, its wrong and degrading to call them a nigger. And rightly so. If someone is disabled it is wrong to call them crippled or a retard or spastic. And rightly so, its degrading and humiliating. If someone has a broken mind, people call them a nut case…. a freak. People turn their backs and create more prejudice against these people than anyone else. Why? because how can you understand something you cant see or feel yourself, as a ‘normie’ Skin colour someone can understand they understand history, they understand discrimination and how a colour is irrelevant. People who see a person without a leg, could imagine how hard life might be for them. If someone has special needs, people can see the difference in their actions their appearance.

 

But what if there was a white person, who looked like a ‘normie’ ( a normal person) and they had all limbs, no appearance to assume they are incapable of the things you are. )emotions, stability, ability to process thoughts) You wouldn’t mind sitting with this person on a bus at this point, maybe even being locked in a elevator with them for 48 hours. You would assume you could have a polite, maybe intellectual or funny conversation. Or like humans do, interact to find some common ground of interest to be able to relate to this person and understand them. How about if they spoke Russian and you spoke English and neither of you could understand a word each other said. Well it would be a silent bus journey after you established you cannot relate to each other. And even a awkward 48 hours in a lift of sideward glances and  half hearted smiles.  Now what if the person ended up talking to themselves or less take it back a few steps. Say they spoke english and you did too. And as easy as you asked for their name they can disclose they have multiple personality disorder, bipolar disorder, split personality disorder, or psychosis. Well then you would be counting the stops till the bus pulled in at your stop. The elevator would become a prison where your heart would beat a little faster. And you would pray to god they had taken their medication that day, or they don’t have a episode while you are stuck in this space. You essentially would be on your best behaviour to not provoke a reaction. As most people do not know of the complexities of mental health conditions. Yet most people can name and disclose symptoms of various cancers. maybe its not a stigma maybe its a ignorance. What if this person then started talking to themselves … maybe like a religious person would in pray. This would be alarming, but a nun talking to herself in pray would not. And no doubt when you escaped the journey from the bus or the elevator i’m sure you would say to someone you knew…. ‘ I just got stuck in a lift with a nut job’  but not ‘ i got stuck in a lift with a cripple, or nigger.  Yet to degrade someone who cant change but would love to change their mental health disorder is like condemning a black person for the colour of their skin. It cant be helped.

 

Then how do these people go about living and relating to ‘normies’ they know they are different. They know they are not accepted. But do they go demanding respect or understanding, no…. they hide away isolate themselves in a corner and hope and pray they haven’t got to fight for anything else that day, as fighting with their mind and emotions is hard enough. And too much for them to deal with as it is.  If you do some how encounter someone with a mental illness be a little bit extra kind, they will appreciate it more than anyone. And never ever give or bully anyone no matter how normal they look, because they haven’t got their diagnosis of cancer, or mental disorder, or dementia or Parkinson’s nailed to their forehead. It don’t mean they aint fighting their own battles and loosing their self worth every second … as they are loosing hope.

 

If you ever have the fortune of ever falling in love with someone who has a mental health disorder…. know you have fallen for a warrior who fights every day to be as good and normal as you. Know that certain knocks will have different effects…. they can love deeper than oceans can be measured, but they can react like tsunamis when they feel something they cant control. Know that the person who doesn’t trust their own mind, has to trust you, and your mind, as like a guide dog to the blind you become their logic their reasoning. You become the calming pill no doctor can prescribe…. because no pill has patiences no pill can understand or try to….. no pill possess the ability to love, the strongest most purest emotion in the world. No pill can protect them from harm… no pill can hug you when you cry. Send you words of support, and make you smile with good times. So if you do fall in love with someone with a mental health disorder you could be their panacea… Their cure to a happier more worthwhile life. But also know it will never be easy, but if you can teach each other the language you speak, and how you love and receive love and understand that from each other …. then what other language needs to be spoke… love is a language understood by all….

 

I have a mental health disorder and it adds to me and takes stuff away from me. If i am mental, then when i am not i am funnier than most. If i am sad i am more perceptive and creative than most. If i am a nut job, then i will love and care more than most. If i am weird, then odds are i will surprise you more than most. If i am unstable chances are that i will be more thoughtful or supportive than most. I have flaws and if i cant always speak the same language as you, then just turn it into the language i can speak….. how i receive love, don’t be too angry or mad with me, as i’m probably already angry and frustrated at myself. Insulting me wont help. putting me down wont neither. Because then i will leave bruises on you, just like you have on me. Then we are just two people not in love anymore.

 

To be human, in these times of crisis both environmental and governmental we forget what we are. Human. I wonder how many people carry with them guilt, the guilt of not being able to do all the things expected of them, with families, partners, work commitments, friends and social commitments, and that of  school or educational commitments, then the laundary or housework alongside the expectations to still be perfectly groomed and appealing. Or if not perfectly groomed at least fit. This is about the worst type of world to be in, whereby guilt becomes our shadow.

The ability to do something we find pleasure in, and find time for, for ourselves, is seen as not important. But this is essentially what makes us human, the ability to enjoy the world and indulge in our desires our passions, our hobbies. If you ask ten people what their hobbies are, at least six or seven of them will have to think on this question. WHy? because they havent got time have a hobby a passion or pleasure. The rest will probably name a hobby, but when the next question comes along,” how often do you get to practice your hobby or indulge in it’ They will probably have to think of the last time they did. Which saddens me so much. Everyone deserves to be human, to do something that is not a means to a end but a source of pleasure and satisfaction.

When was the last time you sat at a coffee shop and people watched, watch the world pass you by and just relax. Not be bound to a appointment so you kill tie at a coffee shop, or wait for a friend, to socialise with. But just sit and indulge in time and peace.

Or when was the last time you sat on the beach, not to occupy the children as a day trip out to meet the requirements of a ‘day out’ but just sat there, watched the tied rolling in and out, notice how no two waves ever caress the sea the same as they meet the shore. See the clouds prancing across the sky, and their changing shape. Into animals or faces or flowers? When was the last time you watched a sunset or a sunrise properly sat there to watch one, the colours of pink and purple merging melting into a liquid gold or amber stream? When did you last sit in the woods, watch the shadows and lights change on the floor or hear the bird singing.

Whether it be reading, ( my favourite) or sunsets (another favourite) riding your horse (another guilty pleasure of mine) no matter what it is that brings you such immense tranquility and pleasure and peace. When was the last time you done it? and didnt feel guilty for doing it? essentially when was the last time you connected with your soul and fed it peace and pleasure.. and enjoyed being human. They say mental health disorders are primarily due to environment, I agree, If i havent done something i enjoy for a week i find my mood dip dramatically.

Schools teach children so much, but they do not teach them the things they require as humans not as governmental commodities. Did you know that your birth certificate registers you as the governments commodity? schools dont teach you your human rights, why? because its normally government run schools. They do not teach you about the government or the voting systems or politics, why? because knowledge is power and knowledge is what makes people question. Children are not taught of their common law rights, either. Why? because alot of legal laws will be flawed by the common law and the government wants to repress and control. The schools dont teach you how to be human, or enjoy being human or what it consists of, it literally just conditions you to become a drone and something that makes it money.

A sad truth, So please everyone indulge in what makes you human, enrich your life’s, your mental and emotional and spiritual state as right now alot the only thing that really defines us as not robotic workhorses is a name.