In My Corner

Depression isn’t just an illness, it’s also a mask. It hides behind smiles and laughter just as easily as tears. I’ll never be one to tread the boards or quote the bard, but my mental health, when it’s in decline, does turn me into a performer of sorts; an illusionist. For a long time I... Continue Reading →

There Is No Spoon

Buckle up Dorothy, ‘cos Kansas is going bye bye! Okay, perhaps that’s a tad indulgent and underwhelmingly I’m not about to head a resistance against the suffocating amount of artificial intelligence infiltrating the mainstream (yes I’m talking about you Sira and your Alexa mini-botlings *shakes fist and charges EMP*) nor dodge bullets, rather I wanted... Continue Reading →

Gossamer

Plump tears fall upon hollowed cheeks as Caroline concedes the contrary nature of living.  That it has taken pulling upon the fine cord of her own mortality for the world to reveal its beauty; a reluctant blushing bride.  Or maybe it is nothing more than a cheap parlor trick, or worse, a desperate plea for... Continue Reading →

That’s Me In The Corner

Unfortunately, I can’t do justice to Michael Stipes’ soaring vocal, but as a teenager I could often be found skulking in corners, eagerly awaiting the comforting blanket of dusk. It was a huge gulf in audience, that leap from junior to secondary school, I’m not too proud to say I didn’t just flounder, I retreated. ... Continue Reading →

Scar Tissue

I was a clumsy kid; some things don’t change.  I’ve lost count of the fractures I accumulated in my early years, but it never bothered me.  At that age you attained almost celebrity status once that magical cast was set over your damaged limb.  Suddenly kids you never knew couldn’t wait to pen their name... Continue Reading →

Mr Sandman

Ironically whenever I play that classic ode to slumber by The Chordettes I can’t help but lay awake reminiscing John Candy’s faultless performance as Uncle Buck as opposed to actually closing my eyes and drifting off to the land of nod. For me sleep is an illusive beast. It never used to be such a... Continue Reading →

Like A Prayer

Looking back, I’ve always had more belief in songs than I have in religion.  I don’t mean that to sound derogatory or offensive, in a lot of ways I envy others of such resolute devotion to their chosen institution.  But for me, I never really got it, to be honest from a young age I... Continue Reading →

These Boots Were Made For Walking

Fear not, I don’t possess the derriere to squeeze into Daisey Dukes’ shorts and pay homage to Jessica Simpson’s remake of the old Willy Nelson song – plus it’d be a bit hypocritical to lather up someone else’s car when I can’t be bothered to wash my own.  If God wants it clean it’ll rain.... Continue Reading →

The Hand That Rocks The Cradle

Fear not, I’m not a disgraced medical professional’s widow on the warpath.  For one, the last time I went blonde I resembled a mangy rescued mongrel after having to cut out chunks of matted hair with the kitchen scissors, and secondly, my sanity can barely withstand over an hour at a soft play centre with... Continue Reading →

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