13 Nov 2015

Blueisms

1.
The thing I’ve learned through all this? Stay present, stay in the moment, stay human.
“Mum, how far left?” I asked.
“About 10 miles,”
I grumbled in annoyance.
“It would take about half an hour if we could drive a normal speed, but with all this traffic-”
“I’m so bored,” I complained.
We’d been sat in the car for hours. Staring at sign posts, trees, other cars. All the cars with all the other bored people in. So much traffic, moving so slowly.
“We all are, Brett. It’s not our fault; just be quiet,” She demanded stressfully.
“I was just trying to make conversation, seeing as we’re all so bored, why don’t we put some music on, plug my phone in? I’m kind of cold, mind putting the heater on? I know it makes that weird smell-”
“Sorry love, I haven’t cleaned it yet, but I’ll put it on,”
“Dad, how’s the driving going? Will you need to switch soon? Maybe we should stop for a toilet break…”
“For god sake Brett, shut up!”
“Oh, yea, sorry,”
The roads aren’t usually busy in the country, and it’s never been that bad. I hardly ever get to go to Bristol, I was born in the hospital were going to and I’ve never been back. I was quite excited about going to the city.
There was so much traffic because everyone from the surrounding areas, 20 miles around Bristol, had been given the same message we had, ‘go to the centre’.
I also remember watching a documentary about the development and early stages of the treatment on channel 4. The reporter said “It’s been sold for about a year to anyone in the country who could afford it.” That of course was only the richest people. The documentary also shared the story of how King George VII founded an organisation which encouraged the rich to pay for the country to also have the treatment. Apparently Princess Diana first had the idea, but being twelve thought she’d just get her dad to do it instead.
So the country was given a week to get into their nearest city hospital, which were staffed 24/7 this week from Monday through to Sunday. The treatment was free; we just needed to get to town.
All I was really listening to, once my mum had yelled at me to shut up, was the radio cutting in and out with the signal, playing stupid songs, boy bands, and the occasional epic rock ballad. Then the odd song my mum sang along with, One Direction apparently, ‘classic’ she called it - sounded like a load of shit to me.
2.
“Welcome, Mr, Mrs and Miss Harrison,” The nurse said while she checked the name on the folder she was holding. “Thank you for traveling to the hospital, must have been a nightmare, so, you’re all getting the treatment today then?”
We all nodded our agreement. “Okay then, so we recommend our patients to have physical contact of a loved one while they have the treatment. So I suggest you all hold each-others hands during one another’s treatment.”
We all looked at her with puzzled expressions, like a litter of new born puppies.
“Okay, bit weird?”
We nodded.
“The chemicals affect the brain, the brain develops somewhat of a defence to things which can be bad for the body, but the part of the brain that has the defensive abilities also has the ability shut down the part of the brain which stores information about people and relationships. To counter this we recommend all patients for you to spend time with the people you most love and care about as a preventative strategy.” She read from a leaflet, stock answer.
“I haven’t seen any bad cases from using it though, you’ll all be fine.” She said in an unconvincing voice. “Just… Spend time together. Anyway, we probably have about ten minutes left to get you all treated, who’s first?” Mum got up and sat in the chair which was clearly meant for the patient. Mum might not always be the nicest to me, but she’s really into that whole ‘protect the baby’ thing. She had the injection first, and as an apology for being annoying in the car, I held her hand. After she had hers I had mine because I was already stood next to the chair, mum returned my favour. Probably because she’d just experienced how weird it felt and wanted to comfort me, it felt far thicker and gloopier than most injections. It put me instantly in quite a hazy state.

12 Dec 2014

High.

Off.
“Hey. You’re kinda cute.”
“I’m not, but thanks.”
“So you want to get together?”
“Bit forward.”
“If you’re not interested then I’ll go.”
“I never said I wasn’t interested.”
On.
“You’re too old for me.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too”
Off.
Thank god.
On.
“I can’t do this”
Off.
“Please?”
On.
“I love you.”
Off.
“Please just leave me alone.”
On.
“No.”
Off.
“Come back. You need me. You’re nothing without me.”
On.
Will this ever end?
Off.
Oh thank god.
“No. No! Wait!”
On.
Trapped. Manipulated. Lies. Deceit. Anger.
“I love you.”
“I hate you.”
Off.
Wait. What? You ended it? Over text? When you were high?
“Good morning beautiful”
“Are you kidding me?”
“What’s wrong?”
“You dumped me, last night, when you were high”
“I don’t remember. Can we go back to normal?”
“No.”
“But I don’t remember, it doesn’t count.”
“It counts. It just shows as soon as you lose your inhibitions you break this up.”
“I love you”
“No.”
“I love you”
“Stop lying”
“I’m not”

As if I didn’t have enough hate already. I was already scared of trusting people. Off. Well, that’s just what you assumed because I didn’t trust you. Thank you. For hurting me. Breaking me. Finding me on the edge and pushing me over. Thank you. Stumping my growth. Off. Leaving me to rot.
“The devils got a hold” has he? Have a little fucking faith. Or just fuck her. Bring her to our church. Have satanic kisses pinned against the building that teaches it’s wrong. My happy place. Why are you doing this? You still think I want you? I want you to get hit by a train. I’m a puppet in your show. I’m a rook on your board. Off. I’m a chance card gone wrong?
I am your pain and your death. I am your light and your shimmer of hope. You love me. I don’t want you. You’ll get stopped. One day. All this will end. Off. When they find out.
I’m manipulative? It’s a defence mechanism. I’m mature for my age? I know right and that you’re not. I was 12 when you entered my life and tore it to pieces. Off. If I love you, it’s only because you brainwashed me and raped my childhood.

28 Nov 2014

Riding To New York. flash fiction attempt.

"Sorry. There's nothing more we can do. You have three months to live. Is there anyone you'd like to call? You can use the phone in the waiting room for free.
Have you arranged someone to pick you up?"
I left. I didnt want to listen to his 'polite' jibber jabber. No theres no one to pick me up. My family moved. New York, New York.  Its not like I can just fly over. It costs thousands. Just grab a bike and go... Yes. Of course. I'll grab my bike and go. New York.

13 Nov 2014

reading?

My favourite book is the perks of being a wallflower. I highly recommend this to anyone who hasn't read it. Its a coming of age story about a boy with anxiety and depression.
Just going to put it out there that my favourite poet is Simon Armitage and highly recommend any of his work. Wilfred Owen is also pretty great.

I need to read some short stories so if anyone can suggest anything that'd be great.

One small step for girl.

One small step for girl, one giant leap for
Toddler. Lunch is fine for some
But I must climb these stairs.
Its destiny.

These cheese and pickle sandwiches are poor.
There's art upstairs, you must come
See. I want to know whats there
We need to see.

Who cares about lunch? I'd rather explore.
For who knows what I'll become,
Staying here on this chair
Will not help me.

Its not far now
I hear it call.
It does not care
I may be small.
I know not how
Or why or what,
Just climb these stairs
It'll be forgot.
For I must see
And I must go
To near the sky
Not down below.
Its time to leave
Its time to see
I will be peeved
I need to flee.

6 Nov 2014

Lilly is Pretty.

What can I say to her? Can I tell her
She’s cute, she’s pretty, beautiful? Lilly.
Would that be appreciated? Is that
Too forward? Will she friend-zone me? Does she
Like me? Does she just think I am a freak?
Does she want me to phone? She knows I can’t.
Does she even want me to text? You don’t
Give your number if you don’t want to text.

Do I say ‘hey’ or ‘hi’ or ‘hello’ or…?

4 Nov 2014

Brain Tumour.

It baffles me. It baffles me that people still see death as a bad thing. Why? Why is it bad? We are born into this world, and one day it will stop. Everything will stop.
I tell people my Nan has a brain tumour. They react like they’re unaware of death and its inevitability. Expect me to burst into tears? No. I refuse to cry about something so natural. When I found out that her life was going to end in such a horrific way, yes, I was sad. I cried when I realised I would never see her again.
It’s not death that makes me cry. Death is natural. Death is a gift.
Knowing that I want to die. It has been 6 years. I do not know what has to be solved, what has to be fixed. All I know is that I’m great. Great at pretending, distracting myself from those thoughts. ‘depression is liveable’ I’ve convinced myself and told others.
All I know, we are tiny, insignificant bits of carbon, it does not matter what I say or what I do. My whole life will be long, and ‘happy’ and… long. There is nothing I can do that will last. I will live my years with anxiety and depression; with my constant pretence and distractions. I will revel in the knowledge that one day I am allowed to kiss that sweet kiss of death. The worms will eat me up, maggots will feast.