The Broken Ones.

Where do they go, The Broken Ones? Who knows, cares or loves? When they’re wrapped in silence and the sharp shards of despair, Where do they go to? Who shows they care? Which place can they hide in? Is it far or near? Can they find the help they need right here? Who cares for…

Autumn.

Dark velvet mornings wreathed by mist. Bright colours shimmering across tree branches. Bird song, chill air and leaves crunching under foot. The end of the year is nigh.

The shortest story.

The story goes that Ernest Hemingway created the first short, short story; the original flash fiction. It was dubbed the six word novel or sudden fiction and was simply this: For Sale: baby shoes never worn. The idea being, that the reader can imagine any number of scenarios and characters attached to those simple words….

You.

Never be afraid to be you, It’s what you were born to do. There’s no one in the world with the same flair, skills and quirks. Never be afraid to be you.

Early day delights.

At time of day when others squeeze shut their eyes against the light and bewail the alarm clock’s blare, I love to take the time to listen and watch the day’s beginning, from my comfortable garden chair.

Existential crisis-ish.

Baz Luhrmann once said, some of the most interesting people he knows still don’t know at the age of 40 what they want to do with their lives. I suppose I could consider myself interesting, but I often envy people who have successfully chosen a path in life and stuck it. Despite having just that…

And so it grows.

My anxiety it bothers me, but this I never show, I simply pick up my needles and yarn and watch my problems grow. The more I switch the stitches, the more that people see, My anxiety begins to take shape, it’s no longer part of me. The more stressful my life becomes the more my…

Don’t grow up it’s a trap!

If someone had told us when we were young that being an adult would be tricky, that we’d often get tripped up, and land in the proverbial ‘brown and sticky’. Would we be so desperate to quit and leave school? To take on all the stress and the gloom? See, being an adult just isn’t…

Working on it….

This week I’ve returned to my daily blog posts after taking a while off because life got in the way. After spending the week once again revelling in the art that is creative writing – or in my case verbal vomiting – I decided that it was time to start taking things a little more…

Scary Hair.

  My hair has a mind of it’s own. Seriously, I’m convinced that what resides on my head is not just a mass of individual keratin based strands, the damned stuff is sentient. And I’m not talking, it styles perfectly well and then by the end of the day it’s a bird’s nest, I wake…