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More then a year and a half has passed since i gave into this selfish expression, since I informed strangers of my current mood, well I will give it a try.
Since my last entry I have left the mental illness rehab program I was dying in, I have moved in to a unit with an older man and enjoy embracing his perception of life, I have started a storeman traineship in frankston and dandenong and welcome this change. A year has passed since I had contact with my twin sister and due to this my stress levels have decreased greatly.
my life has started taking shape and I hope that I can except what I am, was and will forever be. poetry no longer offers the same thing it did when I started three years ago, at first it was a coping technique to understand and except my mental illness and mental illness in general. today it brings a sence of confidence, to the point of my ego jumping out from behind and destroying my intrest, my love of writting.
My life is changing, the control is there however not completly mine. For the first itme in my life I feel like an adult, with this comes regret as I know miss my youthful, my ignorant view of life and the people that hide within it.
Since my last entry I have left the mental illness rehab program I was dying in, I have moved in to a unit with an older man and enjoy embracing his perception of life, I have started a storeman traineship in frankston and dandenong and welcome this change. A year has passed since I had contact with my twin sister and due to this my stress levels have decreased greatly.
my life has started taking shape and I hope that I can except what I am, was and will forever be. poetry no longer offers the same thing it did when I started three years ago, at first it was a coping technique to understand and except my mental illness and mental illness in general. today it brings a sence of confidence, to the point of my ego jumping out from behind and destroying my intrest, my love of writting.
My life is changing, the control is there however not completly mine. For the first itme in my life I feel like an adult, with this comes regret as I know miss my youthful, my ignorant view of life and the people that hide within it.
Until We Share
Sit here holding a sore hand, my so called friend Andy attacked me several months ago when I confronted him about him beating his much younger boy friend. he reacted with anger and I ended going through a window. days in hospital shaking with such fear; thought I would lose two fingers plus was surrounded by strangers touching me. hid my tears till no one was looking.
In more happier news I have spoken with some family on facebook, first time in years and believe I could once again have a family or at least friends that wont attack me. Still living in the boarding house and writing poetry which I hope to share on deviantart. usual topics suc
Until We Speak
The shadow on my wall sits and accepts its life and my choices, but i question.
2012 has come with ample warning yet the tears I hide behind my painted smiles waits to be released. My birthday has passed and thus the memory of my mother and sisters grave disappearing beneath the build up of time. I miss them and they way that made me feel; complete. I accept their deaths but struggle with the gift I have known as life. I live in a boarding house in a area known for drugs and crime, the people I live with are respectful mostly, to my face but I know that when I'm not there they judge what they resist to understand; my sexuality and my depress
Until We Speak
to those on my lise that i do speak with, to those that read and enjoy my work, i thank u for the strengh u remind me of, the strength that i have hiding inside of my frail skin. since christmas i havent been to tafe, im no longer welcomed there so must find another way to share my poetry and thoughts, im coping well just been little sad with tafe no loner in my routine but no i will find a way to better my life.
have written another fifty poems since chrstmas and cant wait to share them with my friends on here, like usual they are abstract, or confronting or well, dealing with issues most refuse to talk about.
until then i have on question
Devious Journal Entry
Novemeber the first was the anniversary of my mother passing, the seventh reminder that I cant hug her when I need, that I cant seek her advice when I need it or smile the way only a mother can make you smile. I accept her death but I hate that I feel alone and isolated at home, I make my self something to eat and know she wont be at the table to share a meal, I wash my clothes for I know if I leave them she isn't there to help me out.
As a result I have had trouble sleeping, in the last 15days there have been 6nights when I haven't slept, instead have sat up late staring at a wall that doesn't move and a knife that tries to hide from me. M
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