This poem contains strong language, and this was the end of a week that seemed to last a year.
REALLY important day for me today, so much so that I wasn’t able to record the audio until Friday for this. This is a poem about understanding what a particular word finally means, and accepting what I am in a wider framework.
Today, I worked out a major stumbling block to my own mental health issues in the supermarket. Every epiphany counts, regardless on where you find them 😀
Yes indeed, these poems really do end up following a pattern, involving people online upsetting the collective calm. It’s a good thing we’re in Mental Health Awareness Week starting on Monday, it’s time to cleanse the palette…
There will be a series of Instaverse poems about Difference [TM] going forward. These will undoubtedly correspond with the latest mental health journey I am currently taking, and I’m looking forward to finding new ways of expressing myself as this will link in with Patreon changes.
Wednesday was National Tea Day, and with the amount I drink? Had to be done.
This was the first poem completely written in the car. It contains the best descriptor I am ever likely to come up with in relation to how my life was before the Pandemic. Undoubtedly the poem of the week by quite some way, and because it was written in transit, it is presented in Evernote.
My subconscious had a moment on Sunday evening, and this was the response first thing Monday morning. Also, I only just noticed that LibreOffice decided ‘deadlift’ was a typo. I think I like it, let’s keep it in, as this undoubtedly contributes to both the instantaneous and authentic look of the whole feature…
Sometimes, describing what you are is hard work. When you’re stressed and under pressure, then asked to do the same thing? Even worse. Add pain to all that and really, not happening. The audio today will tell you how this all went down, and it wasn’t good. Don’t tell my daughter I threw up after watching her have two teeth extracted, she however was a total heroine.
Stress is tough to manage, and when someone says they’re in pain, you should believe them.
‘It’s going to be SO AWESOME when we get back to normal,’ quoth the random Twitter user with 26 numbers after their name and an egg for a profile picture. Except, there is no Normal any more.
Here is a poem about that, with thanks to @ProfSunnySingh on Twitter who I first saw using the phrase ‘wilful unseeing’ last year, so that is hers, and I borrow it with thanks.