I do not get out as often as I’d like due to severe mobility & health issues. Seeing the world from up on high, complete with aerial views of early autumn hills and human habitats, is a rare thing for anyone, especially those with special access needs. Last weekend I went on a cable car…
Hello All, Apologies for not posting in quite a while. This is the good, the bad and the ugly and the hopeful reasons why. As many of you who follow this blog will know, I have to battle a complex mix of disabilities and health challenges. Early this year I gained two more diagnoses, for…
To sustain the self Is fraught with complexities, I remain alive. Hello All, I hope you have enjoyed your Sunday! I’ve not been physically or mentally able to write or blog post this last fortnight. I won’t bore you with all the details but it is due to a domino effect of connected flare-ups…
losing words and dates again, I laugh when I have trouble with a form but part of me is frightened, my neurology is not the norm, never was, but this dense fog is getting deeper; first I cannot read as I lose focus, my thoughts loop, as I infer what I inferred before before…
My favourite quotes have long included “Do not fear death, fear the inadequate life.” Long the unanswerable question that lurks on the edges started roaring loudly.
*trigger warnings regarding chronic conditions, including particularly serious ones Migraine I recognise Sensory disturbance, I’m calmer knowing what it is; My brain On fire, Waiting For full diagnosis Thinking of Dad’s aneurisms, Anxious, My sight blurs I am fire and ice Pressures rise Behind eyes; I had brain damage at birth, Now…
The below was written in a stream of conscious, as part of Linda G. Hill’s SoCS prompt.
The waters are critically high and overseas semi-arid lands become ever-more dry. Critically, promises were broken, made and then broken, again and again, and again. Critically, the West has outsourced the worst of its pollution and, critically, I know why …
can we weave the green
amid grey smoke and ashes
to re-root the tree?
There are stripes
My pale skin,
Where the matter of me is stretched thin
Light and dark matter between
Each cell’s loose connections,
Each day my stripes go unseen
By those whose fear casts reflections;
Projections of who they fear themselves to be
As they try to warp and bend my sense of identity,
But their fear is not me.
Do say, don’t abate,
unleash that sly stream of hate;
feign each injury
is just advise to cure me.