Runnin On Empty

  It's extremely exhausting when you have a motor inside of you that wont switch off and I remember the very first time I self harmed at eleven years old. I was lying on the bed absolutely knackered but  feeling as though I should be running a marathon. I'd tried  so hard to get things under control, even though I didn't really know what I was dealing with. By the age of  five I thought I'd go into boxing and that would help  release this enormous energy constantly pounding my body. I asked around but was repeatedly told girls weren't allowed.  I continued asking into my teens, but no trainer or gym would take me because they'd say it was illegal for girls. I could never get my head around it, it seemed so unfair . I later accepted an illegal underground bout, I'd been warned it was mismatched but I could make a few quid.  I wasn't bothered about the money I was just so excited to finally be getting in the ring and being allowed to get rid of this cons...

  Yes, as the title says, I'm neurodivergent......so what? I've never felt the need to announce it, shout it from the rooftops or become a content creator on the subject, so this post on it will probably be the last unless I'm asked or I feel there's a point and purpose that could help others. With or without the label I'm still me, I've always been me and those that have always loved me still love me and those who have always liked me still like me.....I think ? 🤣 There have been a few that have buggered off of course but if it's the right thing for them, then I'm happy for them and wish them nothing but love and a good life, it will certainly be quieter without me. Like many I was late to the party when it came to a diagnosis some years ago now, and what an incredibly chaotic rollercoaster ride of a party it's been.Having often thought of myself as a weird little shit or/and an annoying little shit growing up, I've always struggled when it com...

Relationships, Family & Friends, Frayed like the end of a rope And we hold on and hope it can heal, but it never will Because everything has it’s time & some things are done  And so we watch as those frayed strands unravel further and fall to the ground one by one.  But I’m still here, still standing, still frayed around the edges.

            As I drink & inch closer to the bottom of the glass  like a glass bottom boat we float  & see the world through a watery haze  Or maybe tears my eyes they glaze, & days like this grow ever more For time does not heal of that I’m sure, Nor comfort do these memories bring Or light with joy the dark within, It’s sink or swim, what choice to make When neither will my soul awake, From such depths it can’t be reached By land, nor sea, nor bible preached So once again I nonchalantly refill And swallow amber liquid til I inch closer to the bottom of the glass And like a glass bottom boat we float And see the world through a watery haze Or maybe tears my eyes they glaze For days like this grow ever more And time will not heal of that I’m sure.

 If it is so dark I cannot see How then, do I know it is the dark that envelops me? I cannot touch these invisible walls & yet it denies my eyes From seeing all that lies beyond. So how can it be that I am free to walk through this black oxygen To seek and find for myself, but not for fear? And so I sit here in the silent company of darkness daring not to move For when I stand and reach for light, it strikes me down without word So down I stay this time to sit and wait For what I do not know. Maybe the tallest of all ladders   so that I may climb One rung at a time and reach the mountainous sky To kiss the moons milky white face and taste a little on my lips Just enough to illuminate my heart and spark my soul To light my path & lead me safetly from the dark where I have been lost for so long

We are here but for a fleeting moment and yet I can only spectate From the shackles of disease that I long to escape I often find myself grieving for who I used to be Before invasion, trespass & vandalism of this body & this disability. It stole from me, robbed me of that fleeting moment, That time frame that was mine and like quicksand I’m pulled beneath the surface ...

     Me & M.E, same letters separated by a dot One’s who I am, one’s what I’ve got One’s who I used to be, one's what I’m not Oh I’m still me, there’s just a dot In-between But It’s a dot that can stop you from living a dream It’s a dot that separates the M from the E And while It’s sat there It’s hard to be me The Me That I Was In Healthier Days Before the dot came forcing the parting of ways I’m nothing as M and empty as E But side by side again I could be me That dot has got a lot to explain How can something so small cause so much pain So much devastation, be endlessly cruel? It’s just one stupid dot after all Why does It have to be stuck In the middle Causing complex symptoms that read like a riddle? I have to believe that just as It came That dot will mysteriously vanish again Every night before sleeping I hope and I pray That I’ll wake up as me without a dot In the way.

      Nobody knows your nose you know As well as you know your nose Your arms , your legs, your belly, your head Your fingers and your toes Nobody knows your nose you know better than you do Coz nobody knows you as well as you know you.

I've been with trustpilot for many years now and while as a company I've been well aware they can't be trusted, I've obviously trusted in the reviews I've shared on their site, some good, some not so in the hope it will help others . Most of us I believe used our common sense reading reviews, you could often gage if there was  something suspicious about them, maybe there were way too many gushing over the top  ones or ones that sounded more like a marketing ad, but overall I found the site rather helpful when deciding whether to shop with a company or not. However that changed this week when having made a first purchase with Smyths toys and being impressed, I decided to leave a review. I rarely write reviews, a purchase has to be exceptionally good or exceptionally bad for me to give up precious time to write one, in this case I felt it worthy. It was only a short to the point review, that it was a first purchase, how I was impressed with speedy delivery, how the it...

                                                     Horne, allow me to rectify that. Because you’re about to see it everywhere , on song-writing credits, on industry boards, in mentoring programmes, and crucially, in your headphones under her artist alias Magpie . From honing her craft at the Brit School to earning a seat on the Ivors Academy board and all the transformative steps in-between, Magpie is not just a musician,   Eve Horne is a trailblazer, songwriter, producer, artist, mentor, activist wearing, more hats than a millenary convention but rocking every one of them. She is one of the voices demanding real inclusion in an industry that often seems stuck in the past and uses her platforms to shine a spotlight on the often stubborn gender and racial gaps in the music industry. A power house of a woman she doesn't just talk the talk...