Tag Archives: freedom

Stop contributing to suppression

I am falling down a rabbit hole lately; I feel like I am chasing approval, because there are many issues being raised within the book review and writing community which state certain likes and dislikes regarding various ideologies or classic works of the past – that seem to clash with my own work.

What I mean to say is, I am discovering as time is going on that the Western World is becoming increasingly intolerant to many subjects that is severely stifling not only personal freedoms of speech, but creativity – society is going on a big ban of almost everything collective mind-set, which is dangerous because, intolerance is suffocating the world.

Yes, OK, I understand that certain subjects in literature can be triggering, but you can’t keep sweeping things under the carpet – these things go on in the world and did go on in the world, yes the world changed, but to lock it all away and forget it is dangerous – dangerous because history will repeat itself if it is forgotten.

Yes certain subjects like suicide, rape and violence are horrific and should never ever be glorified, but to ban literature for having those themes will simply make these things manifest further underground and we really don’t want to make things go more underground – these things need to be exposed and these things need to be remembered.

For me personally, my rape and sexual abuse was absolutely horrible and I don’t think I could ever have got over it, if I had not have read other people’s biographical accounts of what happened to them!  It made me feel less alone and understood, before I read those books, I felt like nobody really understands what it is like to be a rape victim.

Same with suicide, if the literary works that contained suicide scenes and biographies of those going through that dark mental state had been banned, I would never have learned to cope with my own dark thoughts – I would have literally have been left in the dark…

Books such as Mein Kampf have been banned in many countries over the years and I have read this book, because I wanted to know why he hated certain people so much.  It did not make me sympathise with him in anyway whatsoever, but it enlightened me to the true horrors of the war with its depths and behind the scene snippets.

There is another book I read called The Women of Hitler, which again, mentioned events that I had no idea went on during the war – it is an eye opener and the scariest thing I have ever read.  The idea that a woman could do the things that they did to babies, it goes against feminine nature.  Absolutely no words can describe how this book made me feel… more than just shocking… I really don’t know what word can describe more than shock for the description of how I felt reading this book!  It is more than horror, for no horror book could ever top what is mentioned and described in this book!

Having very close Jewish blood, it makes me understand why over half the members of my family in my great grandmothers generation decided to become Catholic and pretend that they were never Jewish – this startled many Jewish families into going into hiding on a permanent basis. 

My mother is still terrified about anti-Semitism still existing in the world today, that she begs that I never mention my ancestral past, but I won’t do that.  I am not ashamed of it, I defy the haters.  Paul my partner, is also scared about me getting too involved in my Jewish roots and teaching my son of them – but why?  Why has the world still not accepted a culture that has been around for millennia?

Why are some people still terrified to the extent they deny their roots and urge their friends of those cultures, to abandon those roots too for their own safety sake?

I did not enjoy reading what I read, but it helped me learn a lot about humanity.

It is vital that no area of life and events should ever be banned in literature – the world needs to know – it has a right to know!  And I for one will fight hard and true to ensure that nothing is swept under the carpet and hidden – for those who don’t like it, all I can say is… this shit happens, stop living in cloud cuckoo land!

I am learning more and more classical literature is becoming out of print because it upsets people.  The world shouldn’t be pandered to regarding this, they need to learn!  Future generations need to learn!

If we don’t get a handle on this soon, book burnings are going to be so commonplace, that it will revert society back to the dark ages!  That’s a scarier place to be than those offensive books!

Please, please, please… think about this!

You don’t have to like it, you don’t ever have to give the books a stunning review, in fact do the opposite if it upsets you – but never, ever vouch to hide it!

I said in a recent post – you can tell a lot about an author based on what they write… you don’t have to like them, but you need to know those people still exist, they need to be exposed and they need to be watched.

I don’t mean stalked – just watched, carefully… watch their fans more so… only then will the world stamp out such things.  But do it mindfully, carefully, never with hate and malice and certainly don’t try to supress it… because what happens when people try to suppress others?  It causes anger and anger causes violence and violence turns into bloodshed and war that is what we as a species are trying to prevent.  We are trying to bring peace to Earth; no negativity is going to do that, even if it is so-called positive negativity!  No negativity is ever positive!

So where was I going with this post?

I became a writer because I want to write mostly movies – my second motivation is healing from the crap I have experienced in my own life… so that does that mean?

It means in order for me to heal from what has happened to me, I need to write similar scenes in my stories to get it out there – off my chest, but also into the open to let people understand how certain people think and work…

I have a lot of very useful and needful information to share with the world through my fiction, but I feel as though I can’t do that anymore, because it might upset people.  It is actually damaging my mental health a lot more, because of this feeling of more suppression… a thing I have been fighting against most of my life!

Isolation and suppression!

I had hoped that my descriptions of scenes, though they will be horrible, will also help others who have experienced similar things.  Helped some isolated and supressed people learn how to get away from it and heal – but if my books are going to be rejected by agents and publishers because of awful and ban-able content, how can I do that?  How can I help those people?

How can I heal myself?

It’s fine to be all righteous about taboo subjects in literature when you have never experienced such horrors, but please learn to understand that the world isn’t all about you – it’s about all of us and the whole world! 

Some people need to read it – others don’t, so please don’t suppress those who need it, for your own selfish reasons! 

Because, ultimately, you will be contributing to a world where individualism and freedom becomes rarer and that’s terrifying!

Happy reading…

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Send them little eagles

Little eagles, little eagles

Send your docile girls

We welcome them most happily

Their weak minds we’ll unfurl

We will set them free unto the wind

And let their spirits soar

Because really, you have to admit – your rules make you a bore?

Us shadow creatures know all the fun that their spirits do implore

So go ahead and send them, why not send some more?

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Internet bliss

I lived my life becoming what you wanted me to be

A nothing, a loser, a carer, a woman who lives solitarily

So you can have your nursie when you old become

You hoped I’d have no intelligence; you wanted me to be dumb

But I was bright as a button and I did my lessons well

I wanted children, a family

To you that’s a life of Hell!

So you treated me more cruelly in the hope that I would stay

Because my confidence you’ll shatter, of course I couldn’t stray!

But you didn’t understand solace, with books and with my friends

The internet provided them; they were my god-send

You cursed the day my brother presented me with this

A world full of possibilities, the internet was bliss!

So you tried to make me isolated even more than that

You said you’ll pull the plug September

I was absolutely sure of that

So I left in July and met Paulie

He is the one who set me free

Your cruelty can no longer touch me

For I have woken up you see!

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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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ART

Always a pleasure

Remember this

That art is freedom, it is pure bliss!

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Sunday Word Count 4

Sunday word count four – I’m not on The Wall of Shame huzzah!

This week’s word total is…

12382

And possibly more as I have written approximately six pages of stuff by hand and haven’t typed them up on the computer yet!

It is good but I have written nothing at all for three of the days this week and my only excuse for that is I was exhausted and had gastric flu.  Yes, sorry for the TMI (too much information).

The days break up as this;

11th August – nothing and that’s because our internet is still tetchy, in fact it has been tetchy again today too. 

12th August – 1584 words, which is usually considered a low average for me.

13th August – 7483 words, that is amazing and I wish most days were like this!  Especially as it is still the school summer holiday!

14th August – 637 words, quite low and not at all good in my opinion!

15th August – nothing, because I was busy with other things, mostly reading and calming Henry down and having what seems to be gastric flu.

16th August – nothing again because of the gastric flu!

17th August – 2678 words, which is my good average amount for daily writing.  It is something I would do usually when Henry is at school; it is still the summer holidays so it is amazing I did my average word count for the day whilst he was home!

The writing I have done this week has been mostly notes towards my leprechaun fantasy, including a title change and rewriting certain weak characters to make them have more of a part in the plot of the story, because there was a lot of weak characters, some of which I will be deleting entirely once this fourth or fifth draft is complete. 

I have not included the words towards new story ideas I have had this week, there has been three new novel ideas I have had, but I can’t start work on them until all this other work is finished.  I am not bragging or anything but I really do have a huge backlog of ideas piled up in a corner of this room and it is getting ridiculous because I know that more than half will never ever be started, let alone finished as there is just too many!  I think I must be the only writer in the history of the world who has her own slush pile for what ideas might work and what are weak!

I am also weighing up something in my mind a lot recently.  I love reading and writing fantasy, horror, sci-fi and dystopian stories – I especially love and am addicted to my vampire stories, my saga I am doing.  But I am reading a lot about how a writer shouldn’t really have too many genres under their belt and this is disheartening to me because I love them all.  I can’t release my vampires or my fantasy in particular and there are at least four dystopian stories I really want to write; it seems to me that there are only really two horrors I have planned, so I can release the horror I guess?  Though I have been told by so many people that horror is more of my strength than other types of fiction I write.

I thought I could just write anything and be appreciated just as much, but the more I research the more I am finding that this isn’t the case, I could be found unprofessional and disloyal to my original fan base.  Even to have just the three genres could be too many.  I don’t really know what genre vampires can be put into, because I have found them in so many different sections at the bookstore and in the libraries that they have confused me – they are put into the dark romance, dark fantasy, horror, gothic and erotica sections – so which is it?  Dystopian novels can be put into science fiction, horror or thriller sections too.  Fantasy also has about three sections, dark fantasy, adult fantasy, family fantasy. 

I am struggling to decide which ones to say goodbye to.  My fantasies tend to be comedy family fantasies and some of them are dark, very dark and borderline horror again sometimes with small interjections of dark comedy. 

My Dystopian stories have links with science fiction ideas, new fictional type sciences and leans towards some religious or mythological ideologies or prophecies. 

My vampires are more complexed as the sagas cross into so many genres, science-fiction, horror, romance and fantasy as even my vampires mingle with fairies and so forth.

It is apparently great to be different, but not so different that you can’t define your genre.

If I can’t define my genre right now, how can any of my future agents and publishers?

It is both a depressing and eye opening reality of being a writer.

It makes me feel so caged.

I really love and adore my vampire novels so much and they are a huge part of who I am, but I am not ready to kiss goodbye my leprechauns, mermaids, giants and dragons either.  Nor am I willing to kiss goodbye my ripped up worlds full of warlords and surviving citizens and their struggle for salvation and freedom.

So who is going to take me seriously when I post out my stories to agents in a year or two?

Do you think I worry too much?  Please post what you think in comments below.

Thank you for reading.

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Your fiery glove

As I build bridges of friendships and love, you come burning them down again with one fair swoop of your fiery glove.

I tried so hard to make family and friends, but you crashed down the walls and I couldn’t mend them.

You destroyed so much and I grew tired and ill, this is why you are not in my life still.

I need other people not just you.

You think I’m an introvert, you haven’t a clue.

You are the introvert, I socialise fine.

I don’t judge others, I am benign.

I tried so hard not to throw you away, because I am a people person, not like you in anyway.

However a time came when you drove me mad, I had to leave you and though it is sad, I am glad.

Because the poison you seep into my relationships are gone.

As you burned down my bridges I learned to swim across the pond.

Now I have not much family, but I am starting to gain friends and comradery.

It is wonderful, but you don’t see.

You only think that I have wounded thee.

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Falling into the jigsaw of life

I am going to fall off the edge of the world and I will not scream out your name.

I will not give you that attention, you are so very vain!

I am falling for me, because as I fall I am free

As I get to ignore you and your ways

As I keep falling into place

My fall is part of the jigsaw of life

I ignore you and your drama and strife

Because I have to take care of me

Because I can and you will see!

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If you can’t cope then don’t make me

If you can’t cope with life and you enter my life, you will sail in troubled waters

If you can’t swim you’ll sink, perhaps our relationship you should rethink?

I am not going to be easy, when I’ve had a hard life

You’ve got to walk with me, or turn away to your light

I have bright days, good days too, I have than more often than you have a clue

I know I suffer and I shout it loud, but I have overcome things and for that I am proud

I am not disillusioned, I am not speaking lies, I have worked hard to live and to thrive

So when I don’t handle your bullshit, think why should I?  Then you should quit, because if the load is too heavy for you, then you don’t have the right to make me carry it too

I have my own baggage, I don’t want yours

I want a new life, with golden calm warm shores

I don’t want to dig another person’s grave; I don’t want to be your emotional slave

I want a life where things go smooth, where life is lived, not thought through

I want a life where action is key, a life where I am happy and ultimately free

So don’t bring me down because you can’t cope, because you think you know me when in fact you don’t

So don’t sit there and whine and moan, when I am out working things out and leaving you alone

I don’t wallow for long my friend, I work it out, I learn how to mend

So should you

You really should

Because living this way, is very good

Don’t offload your baggage to others if you want to be happy, if you want to live happily, change this habit snappily

It’s in your hands, not some chosen saviours, it’s in your hands and in your behaviours

So learn to ride alone in your emotional rides, learn it now and you will rise

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A freedom not suicide poem

You deny me of health

You deny me of wealth

You deny me of friendship and love and games

You deny me of faith, you deny me of hope

You deny me of living and you drive me insane

That’s why I left you

That’s why I am gone

That’s why you won’t see me from hereon

That’s why I rant and that’s why I rave

You denied me of life, the things that I craved

So now I have gone, I will piece things together

I will find my hope, faith, love and more

I will carry on, night and day

And I don’t care if your heart is so sore

For I am through with living for you and I live for you no more!

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