I don't write. I create.
At first glass on a bright sunny day, the colours consume you, in awe, some may say.
Through the core of a black woman, radiating pure love.
Incomparable to the rings around her, due to hatred from eyes self-positioned above.
Push through.
Push forward.
Educate all and any along the way.
Allow the strength of your soul to shine through, your stained glass heart, always.
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There are times I’ve deleted whole conversations, in an attempt to forget the hurt they’ve caused.
Imposed a block on social media, to hide away from emotions exposed.
Laidback and did nothing, to try to forget.
Permeated through bedsheets, fear had me losing sleep.
Inactive is my status, so you experience no notion of my turmoil.
You created this.
You caused this.
You impressed this.
You developed this.
You.
You strangled my words with this.
I lay still as a baby lamb 4 hours after being slaughtered.
Fuck how I feel – it’s all apart of your culture.
Once I let go,
I let go,
I let go.
In an instant, I would push your soul into an active volcano.
My mind is awesome for the same reasons it’s not.
Memory x Detail x Accuracy
Pain upsets me.
Are my thoughts distorted?
Is this the start of my downfall?
Am I operating on notion?
Pain opens me up, I convulse and I transmit. What/who/when did this pain commit?
Times I’m distraught are the times my rage is caged. It’s all in my head and I hate to say this, but I’ve come close to…
Strange how I hold on to pain. I dispel it throughout my writing and relive nightmares again.
The car was operated from the rear left wheel. It was a whole mini car as a stand-alone piece.
I remember every word.
Images are too vivid in my mind.
It’s the fear I felt at the time, the emotional hurt.
If you’re in my past and I’ve not included you.
Stay there.
I’ve moved on.
I’ve flown away.
Undiluted in the skies above.
You’ll taste me when it rains across the lands where you reside.
I’ll forget your purpose in my life over time.
Welcome to mid-October!
Over several days I’ll be sharing creative pieces from The Pain Series.
After preparing a post for World Mental Health Day and abandoning it, then preparing a new one. I thought about the times I’ve felt pain in my life and how I’ve dealt with that emotion.
During my time reflecting this weekend, I felt inspired to produce a mini-series on pain. It’s an emotion in life that we are all destined to experience. I can’t tell you how many times, as it will differ for each of us. However, I felt compelled to put PAIN into words and creatively articulate this emotion.
No one in our entire universe is absolved from pain. It forms a vital part of our lives and shapes our behaviour from that moment forward.
To me, pain is painful and sometimes that pain becomes a burden that overstays, long after its point has been made. Some moments in my life came unexpected and it’s true, I’ve cried a hundred times over, to no avail.
This October, I share the pain born from life itself.
Dame Unique
HANDS 🙌🏾
FACE 🤡
SPACE 👽
Earlier this evening I had written a blog post that consisted of 1500 words. However, upon reflection, I’ve decided not to post it. This is out of respect for the memory of someone I once knew and held in high regard.
Some of you may know that in 2019 I went through a profound set of changes in my life. A few of which I have touched on lightly through conversations behind the protection of…
During the months of emotional pain that was inflicted on my existence, I felt as though I could not confide in anyone. It has taken months of work to acknowledge what happened, accept that it has happened and to move forward. That this person is no longer in my life and I admit, I have grieved the absence of our connection. However, in some ways, I’ve learned to identify other elements in my life that today I embrace.
If you or anyone you know are going through a difficult time and aren’t sure what to do. Please speak with someone or get in touch with an organisation that specialises in Mental Health.
If you or someone else you know:
Please know that support is out there for you.
There is no shame in struggling with your mental health. All of us at one point go through something that impacts on our mental health.
The best thing I can advise is to seek help and know that support is out there for you.
Know that you matter and every heartbeat counts.
Love
Unique
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I’m one of the 7 billion + amazing lives.
I’m for the people.
About the people.
Let’s write all through the night.
Cheap wine.
Your juices.
Your lips.
I love you, too.
Sitting on your face is exhilarating.
Right now I’m drinking from a tiny bottle of wine.
I have a lot on my mind.
People draining me daily, all the time.
My life is a life that is alive only sometimes.
This wine beams through me, deep through the darkness of my mind.
I call out for you! I call out for you.
Where are you? It’s late. Never on time.
Debating on life is a crime unfiltered.
I call out for you. Notifications remain muted.
The bait went stale.
Click. Click.
I’m exhausted, I miss aspects of interactions.
Reactions are volatile.
Because you always overreact – like an over sensitive weak human. Bitterness intact.
I probably shouldn’t be on my blog.
I probably should type out so many subliminals. I do. Oh! I do.
With the tiny bottle of wine, I salute you, you, you and you.
The bright hue of Scarlett.
The warm scent of new.
The heavyweight of sorrow.
The belief of love renewed.
The reality of intention and deception.
The thoughts so dark and grey.
The scope of fame and fortune, with clickbait, added each day.
The whores attitude of your attitude towards my existence.
The ego you blow up and in my space, the knife stabbed through to mitigate it.
The blue blocks of builds hiding the levels of coerced promotions.
The white lines of the show you glamorise as actualisation.
The whisky you take straight on a Tuesday afternoon.
The roar from my heart at the sign of a new moon.
The rust from your mindset as it’s set in its ways.
Love me, love me not I don’t care anymore, anyway.
If you’ve not seen my WhatsApp story updates.
If you can’t see my Instagram.
If you can’t hear my tweets.
If you never receive a card this Christmas.
If your emails file straight to junk.
If your shared media has deleted and expired 30 days after deletion.
If your letters remain unopened or worse, unopened and returned.
If you try to call and can’t ever get through.
We’re not.
We’ll never be.
I’ll never seek.
I’ll never speak.
I’ll never hear.
We’ll never share a friendship again.
In bed (unwell) contemplating my future:
Tired of people calling to moan about the negatives in life. I’m not interested. I just want to rest.
‘Where’s your kids at? I have mine. Time is ticking.’ – known imbecile
Gone are the days that people are proud of you for all you’ve accomplished, starting from the pits of society. Don’t seek them as they’ve been eradicated.
My credentials are visible to those that wish to see them. I’m not a foghorn or a viral social media post. I’m Unique.
I’ve spent a lot of time focused on my interests. I’m assigning large quantities of time to my creative pursuit. Makes no difference in the eyes of a known individual who recently mocked my womb.
A womb that is ageing with each passing year, ridiculed for not yet producing offspring. *Don’t take a moment to see if a woman is medically okay!
Air your deep thoughts during a discussion about facilities in a household that is not shared. They felt it was fair to desecrate on my womb credentials – ‘time is ticking.’
There are some people throughout my life that I’ve stepped back from and stopped talking to. The cut-off. The known individual has been added to this category of ignorance.
No woman should be made to feel inadequate based on the thoughts of an ignorant form of existing life.
No woman should be made to feel useless because their womb has yet to bare seeds.
No woman’s education should be discarded because known individuals believe women belong in the kitchen and caring for children.
No woman should have to experience the levels of disrespect that I recently went through.
…
To the known individual,
Your comments shot through my existence ten-fold. I’ll never forgive your ignorance.
The fact you feel your docile mind has any room in the world to comment on any womb is beyond me.
Your current partner has a womb.
Your daughter has a womb.
Will you impose the same taunts onto them?
I wonder if your role was reversed and you experience the nightmares many women face. If you’ll still make scornful comments.
I’ll never forgive your Incomprehension on mindfulness and basic respect.
Always remember your comments and do express them to your partner and your daughter if ever they face similar womb trials and tribulations.
I believe in equality and fairness.
Don’t stop being sexist on account of my womb.
Regards,
Unique
Every Sunday, an anonymous caller.
Did we argue in a past life?
Are you some weird stalker?
Do you hate my voice?
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