Pinch goes the toe, Twinge goes the knee

Everywhere is hurting, but not even I can see

Whispers as you go, Quiet as your near

Little do they know – they are the least you fear.


A life of dreams, a world of hope

Turns into tears, a body unable to cope

Memories of days and years gone by

Some friends, even family, have forgotten to say Hi!


Sympathy or well wishes are the last you need

Just understanding – some days you find it hard to even breathe.

No-one would know I’ve passed the night crying

Screaming inside –  ‘I must be dying’!


My body won’t  forget however! Any day, any time

When I’m feeling great, it’s the monsters time to shine.

Never a week or a year is a break to be given

Not a hope or a dream too far driven.


Back in your cage, back in your cell,

Freedom, hope, and determination will it quell.

Fear nor worry not, some days I really do need to remember-

All is not lost…. nothing in this life is ever really forever!


A glimmer, a shine, and a sparkle; determination remains

Fighting, pushing, and competing against all the pains.

Demons and monsters, fire and hell, can a dream, or smile defeat

Waiting and living for the next day to repeat.




Free Bird

Not stopping to think, stuck in that mind

Torture and sadness, no solace could you find!

Born in a storm, out with a calm

Little did you know, more than your own self would you harm!


You can talk to us, you can tell how you feel,

Nightmare or dream, wondering what is real?

Anger and sadness, hurt and despair

I wish you would know just a call and we would have been there.


A life left behind, parents, family, sisters, and friends,

If you knew then, on all of us you could really depend.

That moment in time, that storm in your head,

Forever will impact on the many memories unmade.


That sadness, that crack in the heart,

Few will ever know how it tears you apart.

Afraid to forget that laugh, that curl, that smile, lest we remember

A free bird, forever in her deep slumber.



After an afternoon of reading Victorian poetry, my mind has been working overload and has me thinking – why do we really write, or read for that matter? Who are our stories, poems and works of literature aimed at? Are they introspective works just for us to look back on and admire, or do we want them in the public domain for people to review, like or criticise?

Stories I hear of writers having epiphanies before they write their greatest works or some great inspiration such as a vision or a dream always leave me wondering:old-1130743_640

Where do writers truly get their material from?

It’s not as if authors dream of something that has absolutely no connection to them whatsoever. Different psychologists from Freud to Jung all have their own theories on that topic. I know I have had some of the weirdest dreams that would give Stephen King a run for his money. I also know that my dreams are a consequence of something I had been watching or doing earlier that day or week. Something which has been playing on my mind and causing me to dream of a crazy dystopian world with walking machines and green people making gloop for dinner.

Other writers draw on life experience, some disastrous love story or traumatic childhood experience. What about those authors who have seemingly ‘normal’ childhoods that go on to create amazing works of literature?

Maybe it is because so many of the best-selling authors all have one thing in common- they all write straight from the heart!!

Diaries are fantastic, they give us a personal insight into someone’s life, what they’re thinking and what happened during the course of their day; but do they truly give us an absolute insight into someone’s feelings, ideas, internal desires, wants, and needs. When someone writes a diary, do they truly write it for themselves for no one else to ever read or look at? Then why write it out at all?

Is that not what we do when we look at different critics of literary sources? We try to figure out what the author ‘truly’ meant. We look at the works from different perspectives and we take it into context, taking into account, personal, social, cultural and political contexts, including gender and religion. We analyse what we think the author was thinking when they wrote the piece of literature.

Why do we do this?

Why can we not take a beautiful piece of poetry, a novel, a short story or even a song, for what it is?

Why do we need to know the meaning behind it?

Why can’t we just enjoy it for what it is?

Are we reading too much into works of literature, over analysing, or over-thinking?

What is the answer? I know I don’t have one, do you?

Is it a consequence of human nature to just question absolutely everything?

If so, I think I need to applaud anyone out there who has ever put a piece of writing in the public domain, as you have shared a piece of your mind, heart, and soul with everyone who is willing to read. No one has to like your writing; your thoughts need not make sense to anyone but you.

If I have learned anything from the lecture today on Victorian literature, and the poetry of Alfred Tennyson, it is to write what your heart desires and if people like it, it’s a bonus, if not then, so be it. 


Reading recommendations

For a book with a difference I recommend a modern Gothic novel- Patrick Suskind’s ‘Perfume’. Your sense of smell will never be the same after this read!!! 

There have been many books that I’ve read over the years (some I’ve even forgotten that I’ve read them so read them twice) but only a few have left a lasting impression for the better.

Being a very visual person I love books full of imagery that play on the senses, and Suskind does just that, reminding us that our deepest desires are not always good for us.

Baptiste Grenouille is a character whom you will both love and hate at the same time. He needs to be given an A for his determination while he is grotesque at the same time. Not for the faint-hearted or squeamish, I think ‘Perfume’ is not given enough attention as modern Gothic literature.

Here’s what the people at Wiki and Goodreads think of it:



4 star reviews ain’t too bad either 😉

There has been a movie remake which I had to switch off after 30 minutes, it definitely doesn’t do the novel any justice in my opinion.

Try pick up a copy at your local library or as an ebook online. It is definitely a book you won’t want to put down.


‘Just be yourself’

The topic of ‘just being myself’ was something I had been pondering today as I was reading through some of the poetry on this years reading list and it got me thinking……

Is it really possible to just be yourself? Every minute of every day? Or do we contort our personalities to suit who we are with or the audience to which we are sharing our information with through various social media outlets. With today being the birthday of the internet, how many people actually portray their true selves online, and following on from that thought, how many people truly know themselves anyway?!

Some of the greatest ontological arguments ever have been asking that question for hundreds of years, and no one can truly answer the question but ourselves.

I’ve had so many labels put on me over the years, that have all made me doubt myself and what I believe my ‘self’ to be. Inside, deep down in the reaches of my soul however, I believe myself to be a lover of knowledge, according to good old Wikipedia, I’m a philomath! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philomath (apparently it doesn’t even come up in the spell check. Do I exist????!!)

Well there you go, that answers my question somewhat, no matter how much we think, or question who or what we are, there will always be someone who has a label to put on it. There will always be a word for what you are, or even, are not. Sure going through any gift shop, or airport  your name even has a meaning, it is never solely your name.

No one really ever comes out and tells people – ‘I am myself’ ‘I am me’ and  I am happy with just being called ‘me’. 

With the anniversary of the internet and the explosion of personalities online, some of which are nowhere near real, I think it is time for people to realise just being them as a person is enough.

You don’t need labels, or titles, or even people to know who ‘you‘ are.

If you want to laugh, go ahead and laugh so much it hurts.

If you feel like crying, cry until it turns into laughter and makes you feel good about yourself.

If you need to scream, go ahead and find the highest mountain in the most beautiful place you can find and scream until your heart is content.

Me……. well I’ll just keep reading, writing, learning, researching, talking and being excited about the play I just read or the poem I just fell in love with, because that’s me and that’s what I love to do 🙂



I know nothing……..




So I’ve spent the best part of the last 3 hours just doing basic research and setting up my work space for the two projects I have due this year for college. The first project is on the Great Famine and the second is a local area history project. As I have not gotten the specs of the projects yet I am technically working blind so I have been doing background work, researching digital humanities and how Information technology impacts on historical information.

My Goodness……. I know nothing but then I feel like I’ve learned loads, so that’s always a bonus, right?!

On the plus side, I now know that Digital Humanities is definitely the career I want to pursue after I finish my degree. To help me with my project and note taking I’ve been utilising a fantastic DH project that contains archival material from Europe. For any humanities student this site is worth registering for:


I also found a great blog that contains fantastic printable to help with study:


And obviously no student these days can do without good old youtube!

These are my go to’s for another while. Til the next time I need to vent, auf wiedersehen !!




Have you ever gotten jealous of something that someone can do that you can’t?  You find yourself getting angry because you’re not able to do it. Course you have, we’ve all done it (unless you’ve been moulded by the gods into a perfect being).


I sat in the library yesterday, with my headphones on as usual, (one of the least talked about symptoms of Fibro is the noise and smell sensitivity), anyway- next thing I hear is someone walking down the stairs, then there’s someone walking around the shelves. That’s all I can concentrate on for the day then, the constant mesmerizing noise and motion of people walking. I already looked like an oddball enough shuffling around trying to walk (so the nerve and S joint don’t pinch anymore soft tissue, excruciating is an understatment), without staring at people’s legs and wishing I could do that. Wishing I could be normal for even a day.

Normal is overrated

I completely understand that I’m one of the lucky ones, I can still shuffle, I can still move, I am not disabled permanently and I do get days where I can walk somewhat normally. And I get annoyed at myself for being jealous, for wanting to be different.
Don’t we all do it though? Wish we were something or someone or even somewhere else. Wishing, hoping and dreaming of another life.


Nearly twenty years now I’ve had this awful disease, and not only that but it’s many many complications it brings with it. Back pain doesn’t add to the mix too well either but you know what’s the worst part??!!


Don’t look at the eyes and you won’t notice

Most of the time I look completely normal. I look like your average 30 odd year old woman. But most of that’s a lie, most of the time I’m screaming inside, tired, sore and worn out.

Someone said to me the other day when I was hobbling around in pain ‘there are more important things in life’, what this person doesn’t understand is:
being able to get up out of bed everyday is important to me.
being a good mother, partner, sister, daughter, and friend is important to me,
being able to go to college and study is important to me.
being able to read, crochet, use my camera, drive and laugh is important to me.

Sometimes though, I’m just too tired to do it all or any of it, so just being is important to me.

Having a life beyond my chronic illness is important to me.

Make your life important to you. Do what you love and love what you do.