who i am.

insight fortynine 9:12am today is the day the day i make myself proud the day i do something that will change a lot of things for the better... maybe 1:03pm an hour until i have to go until i have to lie until i have to walk until i face my anxious fears 2:06pm out the door with music loud forest muddy but warm air circles under the road, over the bridge past the pub and the noisy bikers and still i shake like a maraca 2:38pm with a shaky voice and nervous leg twitch i sit on the surprising comfy seats staring out the window at the corner indian opposite Africa by Toto plays on the radio a comfort reminding of my dad's terrible singing 2:42pm old people sat in the front one chewing on a humbug i wonder why do elders obsess over mints when my game of colour switch gets boring 2:45pm cute boy walks in ripped black jeans and cheeky smile he sits in front of me on the back row seats glancing back at me as i stare ou

insight fortyeight tis me again, enjoy more of this weird-ass book... title: Red Chapter 3 breathe. breathe. breathe. 1 breath, 2 breath, 3 breath, 4... come on Alice, you're going to be okay. just in through the nose, out through the mouth. confined in the vibrating boot space of an old car, i attempt to untie the rope from my wrists, black sack itching at my tear stained cheeks. wrists feeling red and head hurting with concentration, i scream and shout to the world around me, even though a little bit of my brain knows no one can hear me. kicking the walls, my breathing shortens as i give in with exhaustion to the disgusting man who dragged me into this stupid mess. as i sit in silence, with only the occasional bump or turn effecting me, i question and contemplate a lot of things in my little mind, only just realising the extent of this happening. what is he going to do with me? kill me? eat me? chop off my fingers and use them as his own? where am i goin

insight fortyseven i ready for my shower: marshmallow wash on the side; hair products beside it; mint green scrub to wash my legs; towels sprawled over the radiator; moisturiser propped on the washing basket. stripping my travel clothes, i pull out my ratty hair and observe the misted reflection i see in the shower window. studying my body up and down, i mentally name all the flaws that i can spot... and that's a lot. chipped nail varnish on the tips of my toes fading grey scar on the left foot stubbly legs with uneven tanning multiple scars on the thighs fat thighs at that hips too wide butt weirdly big scars circling my stomach and sides fat torso huge boobs with stretch marks very bad tan lines little moles on shoulders too broad shoulders white dots on my arms burn scars on my hands fat stubby hands spot scars on face weird eye colour too large lips small ears odd eyebrows ratty hair dye fading dark tired circles around eyes bags under eyes graduall

insight fortysix meh i'm bored. here's some brain fart material... title: Red chapter 2 pacing to and from the red framed painting of us, i call for the 65th time, still only going to the fucking generic voicemail lady telling me to speak after the godforsaken beep. i slam down the phone on the already-broken shelf and go into the mouldy bathroom, the stupid bath leak dripping irritatingly into my brain. splashing cold water onto my dark circles and crackled lips i hear my phone ring. tripping over unironed dirty laundry, i race and answer it within seconds. "hello! where are you Tom? what the fuck are you doing out of this house?!" i yell down the line, hands shaking like fish out of water. "why the hell you worried 'bout you're ex, sweet-cheeks? it's me Jonas, you know... the current love of your life?" he says, a sarcastic laugh added into the annoying hell-hole that im in right now. "oh sorry Bonas, i was... checking on th

insight fortyfive throughout my camping holiday in Bembridge, Isle of Wight, i wrote creative writing pieces each day. so here, have a read... 5th August 2017 10 minutes past 1. the rain suddenly races towards the desert-cracked field, families run here and there quickly collecting their chairs, hot dogs and children before the drums rumble loud in the clouded sky. 15 minutes past 1. silence weaves itself in and out the bedrooms as tired eyes close momentarily to the rhythmic beat of the thin tent roof being danced upon by small water droplets. 20 minutes past 1. rain easing, the families return to their sun loungers and happy chatter is heard once again (consider the fact I'd had no sleep and a 5:45am ferry...) 6th August 2017 sun beating down on my bare shoulders, i push against the white waves and swim into the deep. seagulls blaring and salt water splashing, i dip my brunette hair into the more-cold-than-warm sea, letting it weave itself i