Moving

This blog is now relocating to my very own website. The content from this site, my poetry site, as well as new blog posts and articles that I have written for other media outlets will all be collated at:

www.aboatagainstthecurrent.com

I hope that everyone that has enjoyed this blog continues to do so on my new site!

The Peer Pressure Challenge

Me and my husband decided, rather than bend over to the new societal craze of pouring ice (or sometimes not even icy) water over oneself to raise 'awareness' for ALS, we would commit to donating to two charities each month: the NSPCC and MIND. Two charities that are close to both of our hearts. Not that it needs any justification.

Tentatively, I uploaded the picture of what we had done online, slightly nervous at breaking the plethora of ice-soaking 'hilarity' recorded on smartphones nationally. It's not a snub but I'm sick of charitable donations being conceived as a one-off phenomenon whenever facebook tells us to do so; a second of charitable donation, wiped from memory quicker than you can run to the towel that your ice-bucket accomplice holds readily for you. No more self-less than self-indulgent, counting up the facebook likes and exclaiming to your peers "Did you see my ice-bucket challenge!?". Of course we fucking did. 

"Genie, you're free.."

“Suicide is for cowards”

“I have no respect for anyone who takes their own life”

Sitting at work after the news of Robin Williams death, these were not the reactions I expected. Amongst the pain stricken declarations of sorrow at this shocking and devastating news, were dabbles or idiotic naivety. “How could someone take their own life?” I heard above the usual office chit-chatter.

How could someone have never even considered the possibility? How could such an idea be absolutely foreign? How easy it could be just to end everything, how could that not even be tempting? I envy anyone who has never even thought of and cannot even comprehend the concept of dabbling in what is deemed the extremely 'taboo'. In a society where our whole lives seem predetermined by society, politics and the media freedom is an illusion to many. At times, the only decision one can take a hold of is ending ones life; is it really surprising that people choose to take the one decision which is truly ours?

“But it's selfish” reply the masses of naïve, narrowed minded people. Even so, how hard must things get for someone to think that their death will be less of a burden than their life has been on their friends and family. Mental illness is not a decision, it is no more chosen than people who are diagnosed with MS or Cancer, although many would agree that euthanasia or assisted-suicide for the latter is more 'socially acceptable' than a mentally ill person committing suicide despite the great resonance between terminal illness and depression.

What's with the stigma associated with depression? Why is it that people say the word with an instant roll of their eyes? As if it's not a 'real' illness. And of course, a rich person definitely can't have depression (one says in that aggravating, drawling know-it-all voice whilst rolling their fucking eyes) because at the end of the day rich people get sad and they “go buy a Lamborghini”. I'm sure it works like that. Rich person feels lonely they just “call one of their celebrity friends over”. Wow. When did money start to arbitrate happiness? It's a duly taught nod to modern culture that the societal obsession with money and fame have indoctrinated many into believing that celebrities and the like have it all. Invincible super-beings. If only.

I wish so too, as much as I'd love to believe that one can reach such a stage of invincibility no one is immune from the hankering beast that is mental illness; who's victims lay far and wide. It's part of human nature to be vulnerable, to suffer, worsened so by the unkindness and narrow-mindedness of these other's who feel that suicide or depression is 'beneath them'. I applaud your prognosis. I hope to god you're right.

Rule, Britannia?

'I am proud to be British' they announce. 

As if Britishness had become a foreign concept- as if it something elitist to say 'I am British'. What does that even mean? To me it's just a nationality, written on a passport, attempting to define me. It really doesn't.

The raucous claims of Britishness, the people behind the noise, are mesmerised by the call to restore what is 'Great' about Britain ricocheting between the mouths of each party leader. Is it only those with a general understanding of the history of the last 100 years who understand that this plea to national identity is the most obvious form of propaganda? Can our modern day politicians find nothing better to string us along with? Are we no more developed or intelligent that our 1930s Russian and German counterparts? Build a common enemy- reinforce patriotism- embed nationality in education. Surely it's not just me who can see the undeniable parallels?

A common enemy: immigrants, haven't they always been. Clearly nothing changes, or no politician is imaginative enough to change anything. What about the tax evaders- are they a not more worthy enemy? But, of course, they deliver such important 'services' to the U.K that their criminality can go unnoticed. (Did the Queen forget to remind you to pay your taxes whilst she was knighting you Gazza?)

How many times have we heard a politician serenading Britain with constant reminders of her greatness? Their faces begin to merge into one grotesque mask: Cameron, Farage, Miliband (and the other, useless one, what's his name?) a super-beast of political inadequacy. With ease this gusto infiltrates education: a heinous announcement to make the study of English in schools wholly British in an attempt to indoctrinate the young- what a load of bullshit. Michael Gove can go shove that where the sun doesn't shine (his conservative arse). How can one study English without understanding its roots and links with other countries. It's disgusting enough that African literature doesn't even get a word in let alone American literature being banished as well. But of course, the English language is heralded as one of the mighty triumphs of the British. I am in utter despair. Perhaps History should have a more prominent place on the curriculum?

If only plagiarism was to the student as stealing past political tactics was to the politician- if only.

A Vow

When I look into your eyes

I don't see a reflection-

Inside those crinkles that tell me your smiling

and besides that twinkle in your iris

I see my future being played out

underneath your eyelid.

When your hand intertwines with mine

it is a promise

That our love knows no decay

There are no wrongs, no mistakes

It is a promise of love,

to dedicate

our lives to each other

forever, and always.

Keeping Up Appearances

Planning one of the best days of your life should surely be a joyous and exciting experience; finally the freedom to have things how you want it, having the people you love around you. But no, not really. Again and again, society intervenes and circumvents our expectations- hinders our freedom and inundates us with irrelevant and ridiculous expectations of what it should be:

You should wear white, your dress should be long, you should be thin and beautiful, your hair should be impossibly perfect. You should cover up those tattoos: they're unsightly. Your face should be blemish free, dewy, baby-skinned. You should wear minimal make up. You should have a wedding band, you should have this engagement ring. Your cake should be this colour, this brand, it should be this flavour. This person not this person should be a bridesmaid. Oh no, you mustn't include that in your invite; that is not correct wedding etiquette! Your groom should be impeccably groomed- no pun intended. His suit should fit perfectly. You should invite these people and not those. You should say this in your ceremony and not that. You should serve this wine, this food, and have this type of music. Your bouquet should be this colour. Your toilet paper should smell like chocolate and be hand crafted out of silk. He must have a stag do and of course he should invite those people who have jumped on the bandwagon because their own pathetic lives are so unfulfilling that they have to impose themselves on others. He must succumb to all that stag-like debauchery, and so should the bride: but doesn't that 'celebration of the final days of freedom' completely undermine the marriage, isn't it a little archaic? Why get married if you don't see yourself as free afterwards?  Of course, it's what you want, because why would you want anything besides the normative?

This isn't cynicism, or narcissism. It's a plea for free will- to not be confined by society's expectations (which might be slightly ironic as marriage is an expectation of society). Do we even know what freedom is? Can we even make our own decisions, because it seems like everything has a way it should be, or at least what it shouldn't be.

After all, freedom is an illusion in this society, we are so indoctrinated by images of how things should be, what ideals we should adhere to, and what we shouldn't, that we struggle to see a life outside of these binding constraints. I want to see it.

Measurements

There's no peace,
Not in this life
Defined by body types
and whether you have a gap between your thighs

Success, written in the curvature
of your arse - or chest -
Measure me?
Be my fucking guest.

Do I meet the requirements?
Have I passed the test?
Too large, Doesn't fit the mould
they said

Nonetheless, bodies reduce to bones
a skeleton: equal in the end
No evidence is left
What did you expect?

So, how big is your coffin when you die?
How many attendees at your funeral,
what did you leave behind?
A bank balance
-That's nice