Ye Must Be Born Again

Ye must be born again!

Of course, I don't believe that you or ye must be born again, after all, you can do whatever the fuck you like. We can all do whatever the fuck we like, whether we choose to or not. We don't have to be born again at all. We can continue to live as we live, for as long as we want to. Some are more than happy with they way they do life, and living and relationships. For us others, we have suffered frustrations and disillusionment, we have fallen foul of expectations and disappointment. We have yearned for something easier and simpler, something that seemed at the time, too far out of human reach.

Most people around us, just pat us on the back, and hope that our next lovers [friends, colleagues etc] will be better suited to us, and that circumstances will change in our favour. Most people around us are just as afraid of change as we are, and are just as willing for you to maintain your status-quos, as they are to maintain their own.

However, patting each other on the back, and reinforcing unsustainable behaviours, does not promote the better life for anyone. Instead, I want to utter words that speak of redemption.

To be born again:

from darkness, into the light

from womb into wildness

from bondage into freedom

from heaviness into lightness

from lethargy into vitality

from dependency into dance

from clinging into loosening

from poverty into abundance

from blaming into journeying

from expectation into acceptance

from disillusionment into fresh vision

from disappointment into re-crafted stories

this may sound like mystical mumbo-jumbo to some of you

and for some, they need it to remain as mystical mumbo-jumbo

so that they can avoid the kind of self-awareness

that might evoke uncomfortable change

but, for some others

they may seek out the paths

as faint as they may be

and start putting one foot in front of the other

and start moving slowly and hesitantly

toward somewhere better

not emptily for the sake of others

but in the good-enough act of self-nurturance

it will never look the same in each person

for we are all emerging out of our own histories

into tellings and re-tellings of our tomorrows

there are no answers,

but there are scents we might follow

there are traces and signs of ways

and in this,

I wish you well

for oftentimes the road does not rise to meet us

Cosy at the Crossroads

Oftentimes we mix up freedom with possibility.

This is the mistake of capitalistic democracies, that sell us the idea of freedom but appease and sedate us with lots of options, however, it is a very human mistake. We think that freedom is the availability of possibility, and so we sit at the crossroads surrounded by hundreds of avenues, and we set up camp at the crossroads, thinking that we are free-er there.

Yet, freedom, in a seemingly paradoxical way, is expressed through choosing a path to venture on. What I am suggesting, is that freedom is best expressed with intentional self-limitation. Does that make sense?

It isn't actually paradoxical at all, it is simply the contrast of the illusions we like to maintain about ourselves, and the reality of what we are actually doing. Of course, no-one can really tell what the illusion or reality is for each individual...these are the kinds of secrets we can even keep from ourselves...the truth about what we are doing, and why we are doing it. Do we keep ourselves hooked on the idea of freedom, but stay appeased by the availability of options? Only we can tell the truth about that...to ourselves, and for ourselves.

Of course, in admitting that we have set up camp at the crossroads, we encounter the reasons why we haven't set off on any of those roads. We encounter our fears, anxieties and probably a vast arsenal of protective thoughts, that help to keep us safe and sound in the status quo. Hedged into our safer worlds with stockpile of rusty excuses.

Maybe we fear failure,

by the standards of significant others

or

by the more impossible standards we have set ourselves.

Maybe we fear success,

afraid, that to succeed is to offend someone.

Maybe we feel that the world is set against us;

that good things just don't happen to us.

Maybe we are afraid of doing what we want

for fear of upsetting someone else.

Maybe we are afraid that if we set off on one path,

that we will miss out on another.

Maybe we are just afraid of leaving the safety

because we have become addicted to ease.

There is obviously a time for both of these things at different times in our lives. A time for venturing out on a new path that we have chosen, even if only temporarily. There is also a time to reflect on what possibilities are available to us; which of those lie open, and which of those need effort and commitment. All the time, weighing up the investment of our efforts against the reward we get from the risks.

Wherever you are at...I wish you grace for yourself for the journey, if you choose to go on one.

Getting into the Christmas Spirit

Families are the place

where we develop our own

particular preferences

for participation

and

for separation

we discover our own desire

for belonging

and

for escaping

for being together

and

for being alone

depending on the role we played in our family

we will get greater or lesser rewards

for belonging and participation

and

greater or lesser reward

for separation and escaping

the former reward coming from the others

who pat us on the back for participating

the latter reward coming from ourselves

for there is no one else around to reward us

those that don't participate are often seen as selfish

selfish, for having other ideas

selfish, for having other desires

selfish, for having other values

selfish, for having other priorities

selfish, for having other beliefs.

This is the nature of conformity

within any system

and families

are a system like any other

with its instigators and enablers

with its scapegoats and martyrs

with its saints and sinners

with its black sheep and bum-licks

Christmas is a family time

Even for those without families

it is a family time

we all know it,

even if we locked ourselves away

in bomb shelters,

that Christmas

is a family time

and, as Christmas time approaches

some people get excited,

because of what they experienced in their families

either through actuality,

or through edited memory

and for some

this excitement and anticipation

is reversed,

triggering something more like

a sense of dread

and foreboding

The participators and conformers

tend to not understand those that

experience this dread and foreboding

and wonder why

they just can't get along

telling them that they are making it

more difficult for themselves

if only you played ball,

life would be so much more enjoyable

and so it might

and so it might

Tangled up in Reason

In my opinion

our rational faculties

are best used

to do

something like

reading the stars

in order to navigate

the seas we find ourselves in

When our reason and rationale

are used to create

nothing more than worlds of control

which we lose ourselves in

and constrain ourselves with

we cannot move freely

we cannot be pragmatic

we become well-thought out

well-read, and well-wise

but weighted down

and tangled up

we know the laws of logic

but

we do not know our own hearts

we know the arguments

inside out

but,

we don't really know

what side of those arguments

we want to find ourselves on

I have probably said this

hundreds of times before

but,

I think that rationality

is just a grandiose word to describe

a process of internalising;

and this internalising

is not much more

than knitting and weaving

a security blanket in our minds

that we can retreat to

from the anxieties and frustrations

we experience in a world of others.

we can be fooled into

respecting rationality too much

smart, intellectual, clever, wise, intelligent

who gives a shit if we are

knowledgeable or clever

if we do not know how to live well

or if we cannot figure out what that might look like

at best,

we might use our rational faculties

to help us in the midst of our existence

to know ourselves

to know how to meet our needs

to know how to relate to others,

in ways that are mutually beneficial

to know how to make our way through our everyday,

without falling over or blowing up or burning out

at every unpredicted move of an other

or every unexpected swell of our own feelings

at best,

our rational faculties,

help us to live

rather than hinder us in living

help us to move

rather than paralysing us

What would our society look like if it

respected people who had achieved this

and took them as our model of success

imagine a society that held well-being

as a measure of our success in life

rather than

financial gain, academic gain, vocational gain

and, so, let me end with this seasonal blessing:

"may we use our brains, to find our hearts

like Magi,

searching out

the birth of something promising"

Charts for the Storms

Feeling low, shit, 
down, depressed,
down in the dumps, 
in the doldrums, 
negative, meh?

whatever you want to call it,

our instinct in these times

is often to withdraw,

to batten down the hatches

seal our selves away

curl up in a little ball,

sometimes a proverbial one,

sometimes a literal one;

to create a cave of control

where you are not connected

Slouching into an

attempted state of not thinking

not thinking about caring

as if to not think about caring

is to not care

and to not care is to not connect

I like the term Cave-time

Cave-time, isn't always

as dark and defensive as this,

and is often just

a much needed time

of recuperation

to be alone

to be unproductive

and un-obliged

and unsocial

but sometimes

the cave is a womb;

a darkness,

that looks enough like death

to feel safe.

I know it is fucking hard

to survive ourselves in the midst

of our own storms,

or those triggered by others,

but,

what I want to emphasise is:

it is a very useful thing,

in the times of ease and plenty

to prepare our minds

for the the times of difficulty

We learn to the read the stars

so that in the rough seas

we can find a way through,

without getting too lost

We find our own personal stars

create our own charts

to map our souls

so that we may discover ourselves

to the edges

Not Self Centred Enough

There are those that stiffen when threatened, but there are others that give themselves up entirely.

These puppets and puppeteers never learn who they truly are; only ever feeling valuable, when they are accommodating and pleasing others, or expecting others to accommodate and please them. They only feel alive in a nexus of need. They need to be needed, or need to be needing...with bulging eyes aimed at an other. They may feel bereft of meaning in their lives when those others, who play their parts in this drama of need, leave for one reason or another. The puppet flops to the ground, the puppeteer feels obsolete.

In the wake of separation the distraction evaporates, the reflection is left still, and the face is not recognised, or found to be repulsive.

The emptiness gets filled with tokens, trinkets and charms, chosen over and against the terrifying possibility of discovering who they are, and what they want. Terrorised by the thought, that they may discover an insatiably hungry soul for which no satisfaction could be found. It is a far easier thing to know or guess what someone else wants and to attempt to satisfy that, even if the attempts chronically backfire...than it is to go on the journey of knowing what you want. Alternatively, others look to someone to hold responsible for meeting their needs; others who will be scape-goated and blamed when those needs aren't met.

These positions are maintained with a toolbox of blind-spots and self-ignorance. Preferring to write stories of trust and betrayal, hope and paranoia, than attempt anything like discovering the truth. The truth about themselves...the truth about the world out there. Their stories are laden with power dynamics and agendas...control, trust, manipulation, obligation, duty. All of which are stories that provide a scapegoat at the ready; a sleight of hand to avoid what is really going on under the surface.

For some, this surface is dead calm, an eerily dead calm, that has no life or animation about it. It may come across to some as a lovely peaceful demeanour, or for others just entirely bland and uninteresting. A façade of calm that hides inner-rages and venomous bites.

For others, it is a turbulent surface, with squalls of giddiness and and a flurry of emotional gestures, which often attracts people with its curious texture. But, what lies underneath could be anybody's guess, the storminess utilised as a distraction to avoid the still reflection.

How do we relate to others?

What relational habits do we have?

Do they work?

Are these questions we want to ask, or ones we want to avoid?

How far would we go, to avoid asking these questions of ourselves?

Do we stiffen when we come into contact with others...or do we give ourselves up and over entirely...is there another better way?

Why the Stiff get Injured

Some of us have become so composed with adulthood that we have become rigid, and we have lost the strength of flexibility. As life breaks against us, those with flexible ideas of themselves, sway a little, absorb a little, and remain intact. For those who have become rigidly sane and adult, they set themselves up for a breakdown. When faced with the forces of life they come crumbling down. Their idea of themselves shatters into pieces.

Why is this?

It is because our identities are anchors that we made as children: adolescent and pre-pubescent pragmatism, grasping at any available material to hedge ourselves against the uncertainty of existence outside of a womb, away from the undivided attention of doting mothers [for those that had them]. As our caregivers start putting their own needs above ours, we start the project of identity formation, for those that were neglected, this may start far earlier. We were already behaving in particular ways, accumulating a little repertoire of habits, but, these were always fairly responsive and pragmatic.

What were once responsive and pragmatic habits, soon become concrete. Our identities become protective walls that help us to feel safer in a world that abounds with the wills of others. In a world where others have beliefs about how to live, and how we should behave, and who we ought to be, we can feel like we are blown around by the waves created by other's beliefs, feelings and expectations.

They solidify, become strong, rigid, stubborn and immobile. They lose the playfulness of childhood. When they fall they hurt, and they find it hard to return to their feet. They take themselves, and the things they put themselves to, seriously. They weigh everything down with meaning, and nothing has lightness any more. It is life without surprise, and although this disappoints, it is exactly what their repertoire of behaviours is designed to do...reduce risk, reduce possibility, limit options.

No alarms, no surprises.

Stoic until we crumble. Strong until we slump. Stubborn until broken.

And serious about it all until the bitter end.

Dance Kid, Dance!

Dance

Go on dance! She says

The child crosses his arms against his chest

In defiance

The child is almost lost in the swirling of her skirt

as she sways, attempting to animate him

No!!

No dance!! the child says

She eventually ceases her attempts,

and turns back to a conversation

and outside of her gaze

unwatched

he does a dance

his own dance

hoping no one will notice

resisting the attempts to make him dance

not because he did not want to dance

but when coaxed

and coerced

the desire is stolen

for the satisfaction

that comes from dancing

should be
fun, freeing and liberating

When someone is whipping,

or pointing the loaded gun

of emotional blackmail at someone's feet

the parental face of disappointment

the partner's sexual withdrawal
those looks and gestures 
and slammed doors,

punishing the bad behaviour

of not conforming

dance kid, dance...go fuck yourself!

The Things we Lost in the Fire

Children are not innocent.

I have probably mentioned this before in my blogging, that I see childhood innocence as nothing more than a romantic story, dreamt up by disillusioned adults who hanker after the things they lost in the process of becoming adult-erated. It is then projected back onto the children in an act of objectification. Parented into nice, cute, lovely, caring creatures.

Children are need-meeters. They learn to do all kinds of things in order to meet their needs. They are often cruel, malicious and manipulative. But, of course, we don't want this to be the case. We want our spawn to be little darlings...princes and princesses...untainted by the human gene...born of a more heavenly sperm.

Really, all that has happened, is that the children got adult-erated. They got socialised. The parents rewarded the behaviour they liked, and punished the behaviour they didn't. The parents conform to society's ideals [which is nothing more than a whole big bunch of people] and the child conforms to the parent's ideals. A little cycle of people-pleasing and social conformity begins. It is wonderful when it leads to us getting what we want without too much bother, so that the pleasure gained, outweighs the energy expended engaging in social etiquette; and so we might actually get something out of being nice, cute, lovely and caring. However, much of the socialising causes resentment and frustration, as other more primal methods, feelings and desires get tucked neatly away in Pandora's box.

From the no-man's land of adulthood [which we probably experience as being the high ground]; we judge the behaviours of children and older people, and adults who aren't adult enough; we study them and write books about them. It as if we have made this socialised state of adulthood, the standard and the ideal, by which we measure other behaviours.

The things we adore in children, are so often the same behaviours that we find repulsive in adults. Often the things that we call mental illness, are things that are variations of childhood behaviours exhibited by someone we deem to be too-adult for it to be acceptable. They have not been socialised adequately...not trained into being self-aware enough, composed enough, considerate enough to participate normally with all us other people-pleasers.

A child playing with its genitals in the middle of a group of people, or walking about naked.

An older person, staring at people they find fascinating, and making some overly-loud remark.

An adult, cursing and swearing loudly, publicly, and without control

A child pointing at someone with a different skin colour to theirs.

An adult, singing operatically to themselves in the middle of a busy city street.

We feel a little embarrassed when we encounter these kinds of things, depending on how close we are to them. They represent our own disavowed parts of ourself that we lost in becoming conforming adults. The things we lost in the fire.

We too often see that not behaving normally, is a disability, when it is probably a most precious thing. If only we stopped feeling embarrassed by the behaviours of others [or ourselves when the time comes]. So much of what we do for those with mental illness, we claim is for their own good, yet, I get the feeling that we do much of it to appease our own feelings of awkwardness and embarrassment.

We imagine them to be in distress, or are they more likely in oblivion?

We sedate them to ease their distress...or is it to ease our discomfort?

We call something wrong, so that we can get to play at being right.

We call something evil, so that we can get to play at being good.

We call something childish, so that we can get to play at being adult.

We call something weak, so that we can get to play at being strong.

We call something crazy, so that we can get to play at being sane.

The more we disavow the child in ourselves, the more of a good-adult we become. We often like what it is to be a good-adult: independent, capable, strong and composed. After all, we all get some sort of kick out of being able to do things for ourselves, even if not all of the time. Yet, it seems that the more we perform well as a people-pleasing, well-behaved adults, the less able we are to deal with the inevitable weaknesses when they come along...and they will, as life does its thing.

Often the good-adult, fantasises about the childish behaviours they see...the playfulness, the care-freeness, the obliviousness, the lack of consideration for those around them, their unabashed selfishness...but they could never behave that way themselves. They may even disavow the child in themselves so much, that they detest these behaviours when they see them in others. Filled with feelings of anger, repulsion or disgust; they live in a tyranny where the only acceptable state of being, was one of rational, intelligent, and cultured composure.

There are other ways to grow and develop...where we don't lose altogether the primitive, the pagan, and the playful. We can become capable without losing sight of our uncertainty. We can become social creatures without losing sight of our own satisfaction.

So, look again when you see the abnormal behaviour, and look to see if it isn't wonderfully childish, and have a little look at what you are feeling, and see if it isn't a sense of social awkwardness at an unadulterated way of behaving.

Maybe in doing so, we will rediscover the good things we lost in the fire, and maybe even learn to play again, and get a little crazy.

Everything in its Own Time

"There is a time for everything under the sun" 

Ecclesiastes, Chapter 3

There are many things in life that are beyond our control, and yet, despite them being outside of our control, we often still attempt to mould these things with our wills: or alternatively, we resent them, spending our limited energies in fostering the bitterness of redundant wishes. So, the alternative is to struggle, strain and strive, to no useful end. We expend our energy, wanting what cannot be had, or wishing for life to be different than it is, or fantasising about another version of our selves that we have never been.

We wish for sunshine when there is rain. Wish for Spring, when it is Autumn.

I think this applies to our feelings, and this is what I want to focus on. I don't think we can control our feelings [this isn't entirely true...but, I think the attempt is damaging in the long term], nor do I think we should. However, I do believe that when we stop resisting our feelings, and attempting to control them, the more able to grow along side them in equity, not in tyranny. A lot of energy is wasted when we feel bad, shameful or guilty, about feeling a particular feeling. Let me put it like this:

Feeling shit about feeling shit, doesn't make feeling shit any better.

Do you know what I mean?

I am saying something like this...dance with your feelings. Sometimes that dance will be an extravagant tango, at other times a slow waltz, at others a more melancholy swaying...and sometimes your feelings won't want to dance, and you might be lucky to get a game of scrabble or a short stroll out of them. But, whatever it is, don't resist them. If you feel shit because your feelings won't tango, then accept a humble game of scrabble.

I am sure we have all experienced this scenario, in one way or another: someone attempting to coerce another to dance. Instead of accepting the hesitation to dance, one partner engages in emotional bribery to get their desired outcome. This emotional bribery, usually does nothing but congeal the hesitancy, which then solidifies into something closer to a rebellious protest.

There is a good chance, that the person might actually have gotten up to strut their funky stuff on the dance floor, once they had seen the fun being had by the others. They would have wanted to join in, to participate, but on their own terms. The attempt to coerce, or to make the other feel bad for not playing ball with their whims, doesn't actually get the desired result. It is a waste of energy. Even if the person does give in, the energy that is generated, is weighted with, not a little, residual reluctance and resentment. Dancing isn't dancing if it is forced. Dancing is at best an expression of freedom and liberation.

So, does this make it any clearer?

Feeling shit, about feeling shit, doesn't make feeling shit any better

There is a time for everything under the sun. A time for giving birth, a time for dying; a time for planting, a time for harvesting; a time for killing, a time for healing; a time for knocking down, a time for building; a time for tears, a time for laughter; a time for mourning, a time for dancing; a time for throwing stones away, a time for gathering them; a time for embracing, a time to refrain from embrace; a time for searching, a time for losing; a time for keeping, a time for discarding; a time for tearing, a time for sewing; a time for keeping silent, a time for speaking; a time for loving, a time for hating; a time for war, a time for peace.

Looking After the Things that Matter

Sometimes things are so valuable to us

that we fear tinkering with them

people spend hundreds of pounds on

their trinkets and charms

but, often, never take the time

to learn how to look after them

more content with the brand names and bling
than knowing how to care for those things.

And,

so it seems to be with important relationships

we often just go along with them

taking it for granted

that they just do their job

when actually

they can be improved

nurtured and nourished,

and we can be much more satisfied in them

as a result

we wait until war has broken out

before we think about and invest in methods

to create more harmonious relationships

between different communities

people wait until a relationship has crashed

before heading to the relationship therapist

only then admitting to problems

only then exhausted enough to drop the guard

and yet,

probably still reluctant

to invest energy in change

we only have one life, and a limited time frame

If you want to live this life well, and get the most out of it

then, see how things can be improved
and start tinkering

make a few little adjustments and tweaks

here and there

so that the experience of

rubber hitting the road of our lives

isn't an uncomfortable drag of a journey

but one to be savoured and enjoyed

A Skinny Soya Democracy to Go

I often think

that Freedom

is the window dressing

for Democracy

and that we don't actually get

what it says on the tin

what we get

are a million extra choices

to make in our lives

that are expressed

in the important realms of

margarine selections

and

television channels

furniture sets

and

fashion parades

gizmos and gadgets

holidays and hangovers

we believe in free-dom but,

what we bought into...

[while we were distracted

by the gazillion

paralysing

consumer choices

that are so inconsequential

that we have become

too giddy and shallow

to be arsed with

a change]

...was the free-market

for afterall

freedom is far too much like hard work

[and it is]

when what we really want

is comfort and convenience

and democracy does no harm

like all those nasty tyrannies

[except that they do harm

to their own people

whereas we-the-free

do harm to people

that are far enough away

that we the voters don't

give a flying-fuck

unless we get free airmiles

with our flying-fucks]

and,

would you like an

environmentally friendly reusable bag

with your purchases today?

Harbour in the Eye of the Storm

The jar did the rounds of those gathered. Each tested their strength against the lid that refused to loosen. Hands clasped around this un-budging lid, some faces screwed up slightly in the effort, and others went a little more red-in-the-face than they would have liked. Of course, the jar was passed around the men at first, as if they were more capable, or maybe just to appease a fragile sense of masculinity. But, when no success came, one of the older women present, picked up the jar and knowingly, gave the lid a knock on the side of the table, after which, she opened the jar without strain; no bulging blood vessels, no red face, no strange groaning noises...just ease.

That little knock had broken the air-tight seal that was there to keep the lid from opening easily.

Sometimes we go to things hammer and tongs...and think that the amount of energy we are putting into something is what will yield rewards. The more we want a task to be accomplished, the more and more energy we invest in it. We often keep doing this without ever questioning the way in which we apply that energy. There are nearly always, more insightful and more creative ways to go about meeting challenges in our lives, and those ways can bring about the achievement of goals with less stress and strain.

Often the energy that we use in relation to our challenges, is stress, worry and anxiety. All of these ways of engaging with the challenges in our lives, drain our limited resources. Of course, these responses are justified, but, they aren't necessarily successful, and are for the most part detrimental.

Stress, worry and anxiety, drain energy that could otherwise be invested in some form of betterment. Neither of the three habits here, actually do anything really, other than drain our limited energies. In fact, most of them exist in the place of actually putting ourselves to making some situation better. Disguising themselves as useful, they slip into our lives while we are ruminating, milling things over, internalising, freaking out, wishing things were different or better, hoping for something to change, fantasizing about something else. They are wolves in sheep's clothing.

Those same energies could be used to engage intentionally with the problems we face, to seek out solutions, or make attempts at improving situations. Or, if the problem is actually beyond the reach of our control, we could invest our energies in making peace with all the things we cannot control in our lives. The more we know what we are actually doing, the less room there is for the toxins of stress, worry and anxiety, to poison our brains. A poison that can paralyse, or at best, hinders our progress, and clouds our vision.

Stress, worry and anxiety will never fully go away, but, we can journey. Some will question this, and defend their stressing, and their worrying, and their anxieties, as if they were old friends that they couldn't possibly leave behind. Some will simply not be convinced that we could live our lives without any of these, and to be honest, I am not saying that we can. But, I do believe that we can improve things. Like the martial artist who knows that getting stressed in times of conflict is actually detrimental to their performance, making them more clumsy and and stiff; they instead learn how to be empty-minded. We aren't all martial artists, but, we can learn something from them. It's something that is a little bit Zen.

We can begin to improve things for ourselves. We cannot dictate what challenges life will throw at us, but, we can make little shuffling steps into better positions, where we are better balanced, and can be more intentional. The more passive we are in relation to the challenges that face us, the more the stress energy builds. The more intentional, the less room there is for stress, worry and anxiety.

It's not easy. It involves change. It requires a little, dare I say it, faith.

Head in the Fire

If I told you to put your head in the fire

would you do it?

What about, if got lots of my mates to tell you

to put your head in the fire?

Would you do it then?

OK, well,

what about if I got lots of articles

printed in glossy magazines

and put on the shelves of shops around the world

telling you that you should stick your head in the fire??

would you do it then?

If I told you to do anything you didn't want to do

or that you didn't think was for your own good

would you do it?

So, if you do end up sticking your head in the fire

whose fault is it?

Who is to blame,

if you care about what I say

feel connected enough to my words

feel that they have power over your feelings;

whose fault is that?

Do we get pissed off

when trusting in

what others say about us

backfires on us?

Will we throw a tantrum

and attempt to shift the blame

onto the person

who betrayed our trust?

Do we get pissed off

because we long for some

good-enough parenting

and hope that society

is going to take on the role

of the all-sufficient caregiver

But it is nobodies job

to look after us any more

that is up to us,

the stabilisers are off

Be strong

Be independent

Be successful

Be a brave wee soldier

Be pretty

Be a good girl

Be a little princess

Be a perfect mother

Be nice

Be caring

Be gentle

Be lovely

There are a million voices

out there

and the only one you should listen to

isn't

it isn't out there

it is inside you

and the sooner we can all learn

to stop giving a shit about

what other people say

or

what other people think

and start living our own lives

for ourselves

the better

otherwise you'll find yourself

down at the emergency ward

with a burnt face