Urges

Urges send my hands reaching,

clawing at what they want,

but then I stop them.

I have to stop them.

Urges control my mind,

every thought in it

wants the same thing.

Happiness, sadness,

anger, they all become one.

One spear aimed at the heart.

Whether it misses or not,

that’s up to me,

and whether I listen

to my mind.

The spear misses this time.

My Brother Is an Egg [Short Story]

My brother is an egg. He is oval, white, and very fragile. Seeing him so fresh to the world, and so unknowing, it pains me. He is the purest form of life, waiting until the day of his hatching, not knowing when it will come or what will come of it. I know. Our mum knows. We don’t have a dad, they don’t need dads.

My brother is an egg. He sits around all day, waiting for his time to come. But he will never have a time. He is a boy. I cry sometimes, knowing that he will have been an egg longer than he will ever be a chicken. I am merely a chick myself, but I know more about the world than he will ever know. I know that it’s cruel; my mother has gotten so used to it that her eyes don’t flinch anymore. I remember when she used to try to warm us all. Not just me, but all of the girls. All of her many, many daughters. We’re in a cage, you see. People don’t call it a cage; they say it’s not a cage because it’s a barn, and that we’re cage-free, but I can barely breathe here. My mother has gotten crushed accidentally so many times that her feathers are mangled. She isn’t that positive anymore. I try to be, but I’m so young that they don’t believe what I say. They know I haven’t had the worst of it yet. Even after the debeaking, the most painful experience I have ever been through, they’re telling me that was just the start.

My brother is an egg. He is starting to shake. He wants to see the world, to be free, to dance. A little crack here, another crack there. He is ready. But he shouldn’t be. What awaits him is a horror story. I have only heard folk tales of what goes on but we all know the basics. They talk about it sometimes. There is a conveyer belt, and there is blades. He will not live to tell the tale.

My brother is hatching. His body is shivering, he is starting to wonder. Where is he? What is he? Where will he be going? We all know the answers, of course, but he doesn’t. He is a baby, and I want to wrap him in my wings and keep him close to me.

My brother is a chick. A hand reaches down and snatches him. He lets out a soft startled squeak. He wants to be with his mummy. Is that too much to ask? He is dragged away, and that is the last time I ever see my brother, but it is not the last time I imagine him. I imagine his scream amplified as he falls off the conveyer belt, I imagine his body being ripped apart — but that is nothing compared to what I imagine next. I imagine him running around, in a field, happy. That is what breaks my heart the most.

My brother is dead.

What Am I Doing With My Life?

So, two people in one day asked me the same question: what am I doing with my life? One conversation went something like this:

Them: Are you going to university?

Me: No.

Them: Are you working?

Me: No.

Them: Are you breathing…?

The other conversation was just a catch-up with an old friend, whom seems to have a really cool job as a teaching assistant with tiny children. I love children, so that seems fun. We talked a lot about our pets, and then about what we’re doing at the moment.

Anyway, it made me realise that people don’t understand me that well at all. These people that I’m friends with aren’t very similar to me. There is one friend I have who is very similar to me but we don’t meet up much, and it’s pretty much just her emailing me jokes that make me laugh. She thinks they’re not funny but they’re really my types of jokes!

So, I don’t have any prospects. I’m just an eighteen-year-old living with her parents. A lot of eighteen-year-olds live with their parents still, so I’m not too abnormal yet. My brother lives with my parents too — he’s nineteen! FYI: My mum moved out of her parent’s house at nineteen. I wish my brother took after her, because I really like the quiet. Just thinking is nice. And I can’t just think because he is constantly loud. I think I’ve complained about it a few times in blog posts… I have hyper-senses due to my autism, so every little sound really disturbs me! And he doesn’t even try to be quiet sometimes. The noise can be so loud…

Sorry for getting off topic! Basically, I think I should tell everyone a little thing about me: I don’t find it easy doing most jobs, or going to university. Both things involve interaction, and I have constant anxiety over every little thing, so something like that really wouldn’t work for me. I don’t know if I’ll get a job somewhen in the future, but right now, I don’t want one. I know that it would send my anxiety levels skyrocketing and my parents are fully supportive of me in everything I do. They want me to try working on my writing, but honestly, I’ve been stuck for ideas lately. Somewhen, I might go to university, or the open university, but it isn’t this year, or next. People need to live life at their own pace.

Not everyone should feel pressured to do what everyone else their age is doing. Sure, other people my age are at university or at a job: that isn’t me. Not right now, anyway. I have autism and it limits many of my social skills. Lots of people with autism do go to work or university, but I don’t find it works for me at the moment. I’m also pretty tired a lot of the time. I don’t know why, it’s kinda undiagnosed, but it stops me from being able to just go out and do things.

Remember that you shouldn’t feel like you have to do what the world is doing. You should do your own thing, be your own person. You can go to university if you want, that’s cool, but you should do it because you want to do it, not because everyone else is doing it. You can wait a year or two to try and figure out what you want to do in life. I want to be a cat, but unfortunately I haven’t figured out how yet. Maybe, one day…

Thanks for reading,

Lia

Imagine

Imagine you have no tongue. It was chopped off at birth, just like they pretended your soul was, except your soul was just hidden behind ladders and ramps and hills. So you have no tongue, and you try to ask what’s going on, why are you being attacked, why is your mother over there but you’re over here? But you can’t. You’re scared, very scared, but you can’t express this fear. Your eyes are the only way of showing it but nobody looks into those, they just look at the rest of you.
 The profit, as they call it.

 You just want to be with your mum, you just want this to be all over with, you just want to live. But, again, you have no tongue. Because you have no tongue, you become an object. An ‘it’, rather than a she or a he. You are just another ‘it’, among a thousand ‘it’s. You don’t want to be an ‘it’. You want to be an individual. You have your own mind but it doesn’t count, because you have no tongue.

Your days go by quickly, you can’t differentiate between them. You don’t look forward to anything, or look back to anything, except the first moments you saw your mother. You wish you could still be with her. But you can’t be, because you are here, and she isn’t. You are in the area where she once was, though, getting the treatment she once got. 

Being trampled by your friends because they have no choice, then being raped and forced to give up your baby, like she was, many times, then finally you are sent to the place where you will die. Some call it a slaughter house, you call it freedom, because death is better than the half-life you’ve been forced to live. Even if death is painful, which it often is, you still prefer it to before. 

 Nobody should have to want death. No one. Not even cows. 

 Whilst this post was about cows, it is also about all the other living beings still suffering. I don’t see how there is any justification for rape, just so we can get milk, which is intended for the babies, by the way. This is my way of thinking and I hope this post makes you think a bit about the industries you’re buying into. 

Lia

Met Favourite Author!

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Yesterday was my mum’s birthday, and the day after my dad’s operation, but I couldn’t not go. It was something I might never get to do again, so I convinced my mum to come with me, and we went to see Patrick Ness, my favourite author! Don’t worry: my dad had a lot of other family and friends willing to look after him.

It was also the day of the Brighton parade to celebrate their promotion to the premiership (woop woop) so it was incredibly crowded but I didn’t mind so much, because I got to meet Patrick Ness.

Before we actually got on the train to go to Brighton, a guy dropped a piece of paper (two minutes before the train was scheduled to arrive!) and went onto the tracks to pick it back up. He then climbed up again and, luckily, did not get hit by a train. Was scary though.

The actual getting to the theatre was horrific. We asked a taxi driver to take us there and he told us it was about half an hour away and would cost a tenner, when we were sure it was much nearer. Anyway, we trusted him, and he drove us to this location. When we got out, and asked around, we realised we’d been ripped off. The theatre wasn’t here at all; and it had just gone half past two, the time we were supposed to be at the theatre. I was so stressed.

We called for another taxi and this time the guy took us to the correct location but we had missed fifteen minutes of the talk. It was terrible, really. We could still get in and his talk was so incredible that it felt like it only lasted a few minutes. We were so engrossed! His sense of humour was amazing too. Apparently, he never got any success until his late 30s, but when he did get success, that was because he didn’t think about getting a publishing contract, he wrote because he wanted to write, and it paid off.

After the talk, he did book signings, so I got a copy of his new book ‘Release’ (which I have yet to read), and waited until the massive queue got shorter, then joined it. Once I met him, I asked him a question (technically my mum did because I was too nervous): “if you had to choose, would you choose writing or cats?” I asked him this because I know he loves cats too, like me. He struggled with the answer, but, as he said when he signed the book, he chose writing. I suppose it’s because he makes lots of money from it. To be honest, I’d always choose cats, because I’ve had them my entire life, and I’ve never lived without them. I don’t know how I’d live without them. A certain blogger (*cough* MyMindSpeaksAloud *cough*) said writing too, so I am going to steal her cats.

It was a wonderful experience, despite the earlier stress, and we also went into Primark and brought me some more black and white clothes. I love black and white. it’s just so… black and white.

Thank you for reading this post; I was very excited about going to see him and I’m so happy I did!

Lia

Again?!

Today, I found out that yet another teacher has quit us, though this time it was after only one lesson (what a record!). When I messaged Rose to tell her of it, she didn’t believe me because it was so ridiculous. She’d been ill so hadn’t come in, thus was very unconvinced. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been messing around.

I used to be ashamed of my autism, upon my diagnosis, wanting to hide it and never telling anyone about it but, then, when I realised that teachers who knew about my condition started treating me differently… I felt like I didn’t want to be different, but that I had to be. I wasn’t like everyone else and I had to accept that. So, now that I’ve accepted my diagnosis, I understand what aspects of it affect me. Change is a big one, and I’ve already done a post on it which you can find here. After struggling with so many teachers leaving, I was told that this one would stay. Nope.

It’s just really upsetting for me and I almost want to just drop out but I know that my parents would get a fine if I did, so I can’t. I have to put up with it. This isn’t something anyone should have to go through (especially when the college gets Ofsted outstanding!!!), but it is especially difficult for people with my condition and I am just not gonna do well this year at all.

I’ve been so sad today and they don’t seem to see how this affects my mental state as well as my education. It’s honestly ridiculous and I wish I could just have not done Creative Writing (my dream course) at all because, although I love writing, this course is so messed up that it’s just destroying me, to be honest. The constant change of teachers, the teachers who we do have not knowing anything, I just can’t deal with it. I wish I could but I wasn’t built like that. This just sucks.

How do you deal with difficult circumstances? Do you get out the other end?

Lia

After post P.S: Why do I need to approve me linking to my own posts?! xD

AS Results

I realised I haven’t actually done a post on this yet so here I go. Just over a week ago, I received my AS results. Now, I did alright, really, considering, but I was so upset when I took the exams. Two out of three of them made me feel uncomfortable through reasons I couldn’t help. I think I’ve remarked before about how one invigilator made me feel uncomfortable and the other exam was really noisy and loads of people were outside it.

So, I got my results back, and I’d gotten a D in my creative writing exam (a C overall in both English exams — one was fine, the other was the loud and noisy exam). I was getting As throughout the year in creative writing so this made me really upset. I was happy with the C in English but I just couldn’t accept the D in that creative writing exam. Luckily, due to my grade A coursework in creative writing, overall I got a B. Although a B is really good, I am going to retake the exam because I know I can do better. The exam was awful because of how the invigilator made me feel and next time I’m getting my tutor to invigilate my exams, so that should be better. I just want my grades to add up. If I had been getting Bs throughout the year, maybe I would have accepted the D, but I was much more capable than a D.

I know I often talk down about myself and that, usually, I’d say “see, this D is my real ability” but I’m starting to see that I am alright. My grades show it; my coursework shows it, and I want to prove to myself that I can get another good grade in the exam. I can do it, which is why I’m going to retake. If I believe I can do it, then I’m already halfway there, aren’t I?

I’ve also been looking at a lot of results from fellow bloggers and gasping in awe at their GCSE results because mine were nowhere near as good! I’m so proud of you guys for your awesome results. 🙂

Lia

Repeat [Poem]

I’ve been thinking about how much we are judged and examined in so much of our lives, so I wrote a poem on it. Hope you enjoy!

 The room is round,

Benches all around,

Sitting are faces,

holding their cases,

judging my routine,

pictured on the big screen,

on repeat, repeat, repeat,

then they say, “take a seat”

and gesture to the lone chair

in the centre, but I’m unprepared–

their eyes examine, ticking like clocks,

they only watch, they don’t talk,

and the room is round,

benches all around,

i’m mute, no sound,

their faces surround,

and repeat, repeat, repeat,

“take a seat.”

I hope you liked this poem,

Lia

Writer’s Block

Writing is quite daunting, really, because it’s not something you can just do. There are a lot of spontaneous moments but you have to have a spark to set it off — and sometimes, when we lack that spark, we get something known as writer’s block.

What is writer’s block?

Writer’s block is quite self-explanatory, being a block for, well, writers. It means that we struggle to come up with ideas and can stare for hours at the screen or notebook without getting any ideas.

What are the symptoms of writer’s block?

As someone who has this a lot, I can tell most symptoms.

  1.  Staring for hours without any ideas
     This is the most obvious one and what most people think of when they think of writer’s block.
  2.  Eating more than usual
     Mostly, I find, writers overeat because it can be used as a comforter until the spark comes back. Others overeat because they’re bored of waiting. Really, everyone has different reasons.
  3. Self-criticising
    Often, writers believe that they’re the reason that they can’t write but, really, it happens to everyone! If you don’t get writer’s block at one time or another then you are weird.
  4. Frustration
    Obviously, when you cannot find an idea, you will get frustrated. This can often cause writers to pull at their hair or throw their pen across the room.
  5. Inability to focus (on anything)
    They will be so occupied on trying to think of an idea that they probably won’t be able to concentrate on anything, which makes the condition worse!Note these are only a few symptoms – comment yours below!

Coping Strategies

How can you cope with writer’s block and try to overcome it?

  1.  Remember that nothing is perfect
    A lot of writers are perfectionists and this is quite often where writer’s block stems from. I have been known to delete whole stories because I was convinced it was awful! Just remember that you don’t have to be perfect.
  2. Go for a walk
    This will probably put your brain at ease and refresh it, meaning that, as long as you are not thinking of anything stressful, you should get ideas. Remember, if you do go on a walk, to just relax.
  3. Cut out distractions
    Often, people will say they have writer’s block but really, there’s a TV on here, a radio on there– and it’s no wonder they can’t find ideas! Sometimes TV/radio can help give ideas but it’s not useful when you’re trying to write!
  4. Read something
    I usually just read the first sentence of something to see if that can inspire a first sentence for me (because the most important thing for me is my first sentence). But seriously, just read something, anything, and see if you can get some inspiration!
  5. Take a break
    Don’t just sit there for hours — that will not help! Just take a break, it’s fine. You’ll think of something later.These are also just a few coping strategies, if you think of more then comment!

I hope you enjoyed this post!

Any suggestions, just comment below

Thank you for reading this post,

Lia