‘I write with a pen and paper in one of those hard cover diary books you can buy in the supermarket, and I move from room to room chasing the feelings in my chest that are killing me, until I have a scrawl that’s so messed up it’s made my flipping day-masterpieces are never mess free.’
‘I need a nice pen, a smooth one that enables me to feel grand when I splash my grievances for all to see and judge’
‘I like scribbling diagonally across a blank page taking my thoughts outside the angle of the lines. It’s dramatic, it’s naughty, and who cares…’
‘Honestly, don’t use the words of others. Don’t write someone else’s story-write yours. Separate yourself from the do’s and don’ts of the English language because that will distract you from what you really want to say, what is real, what is raw. Allow a chaotic flood of wicked messed up thoughts guide you to the brilliance of sharing an honest piece of yourself with those who care to listen-those reading by the way, should consider it a privilege to be given the secret key into your world and kindly respect your vulnerable position. Do not be phased by the haters. There will always be those…oh yes there will, and the literary genius’s of the world…fear not, intimidation is a waste of valuable energy, for you have the benefit of a gift they will never own-Your story’
‘Pardon? What is freedom? …Freedom to me is breathing out and feeling comfortable to stay there for a while.
Freedom is feeling confident enough to share your raw and then indulge in a cuppa with no spiders on your back.