Water

Queue water,
Introduction water,
Community water.
Water from the tap,
Tap water,
Water from the shower
Culture of water,
Time spent; time spent for water,
Time for water,
Tribes for water; water tribes,
Water transfer,
Water treatment,
Water pipe; piped water,
Water connection,
Transmit water; water transmission,
Water security,
Kenya water; Kenyan water,
Water pollution; polluted water,
Consumable water,
Water conflicts, conflicts of water,
Fetching water,
Irrigation, irrigate,
Well; water wells,
Rationed water; water ration,
Water charge, pay for water,
Water payments,
Water solutions; solutions to water,
Nomad water; travelling like water,
Following the rain,
Following the wetness;
Travelling water,
Certified water; water certificate,
Private water,
Managed water,
Government water,
Local water,
Provided water; water providers,
Conflict water, water conflict;
Water permits; permitted water,
Community water projects,
Failed water projects,
Failed water,
Benefits of water,
Water donors,
Waters fails,
Donors fail,
Oil like water,
Oil and water resource,
Water resource,
Female water,
Water for the girls,
Water by the girls,
Carried, collected, kept,
Harvested, owned?
Water for women,
Women’s water.
Dammed water; water dammed,
Dammed by the water,
Dam the water,
Dam water,
Coloured water,
Blue, green, black, brown,
Muddy, clear, murky, slimy,
Cold, hot, cool, warm,
Wet,
Wet water,
Dry water,
Live water,
Dead water,
Drowned.
Thirst quenching water,
Water for life,
Alive water,
Awake water,
Help water,
Rehydrating water,
WATER.
Laughing water; crying water,
Helping water; fun water,
Water, water, water
WATER.
Water to live; water for life,
WATER
Vegetable water; soup water,
Hot water,
Tea, coffee, and water,
Water economy,
Economy of water,
Money water
WATER.

by Dix

Applications

Applications; applications; applications. Apply for jobs that sound good; apply for jobs that sound OK; apply for jobs that will do. Applying.

Filling in endless forms about me - listing me. Listing my details; listing my qualifications; listing my jobs; listing, listing. Listing the jobs that sounded OK, that fit the criteria - missing out the ones that didn't work, that only lasted a while or were just bloody awful. Filling the dates up so that it all fits.

Sitting at the computer typing up dates and details and hoping; hoping that someone will be interested; someone will think - this person could be interesting, this person could be right, this person could be just what we are looking for. This person could be it.

Then the personal statement. What to say? What to say and how to say? Do I want to go on about me; go on with the I, I, I, me, me, me. Making it sound good, making it sound appropriate, making it sound exciting without being big headed, making it sound like it fits the job description.

Making it sound like this is a person they would like to see; this is a person they would like to interview; this is a person they would like to give a job too. Making it sound like this is a person!

Endless rounds of form filling; endless words to make me sound good; endless words to make me fit the job; to make it happen for me.

Will it happen? Will this come to anything or just another round of waiting for the phone to ring; waiting for the letter to drop through my door asking me to come and talk; to come and sell myself all over again?

Or will it just be nothing; no letter - no contact - no nothing. Never knowing what I did wrong; never knowing why I am not good enough for any of these jobs. Am I too old; too stupid; too fat; to ugly; to qualified; not qualified enough; just not right? Never right, never, never, right. Always, always, wrong.

Never, never knowing.

Even the no letter feels better that nothing.

Feels better that never, never never knowing.

Mottled pebbles

There are lots of pebbles that crunch underfoot and make walking hard. The pebbles all seems dark brown, brown and round and crunchy underfoot. But with each step, with each crunch, with each examination the pebbles gain individuality.

There are white ones - some shiny white from the wet of the waves - glowing almost. Some have only white flecks or marbling or clear stripes. Sometimes the whiteness almost appears like a picture, like a face.

Then the black pebbles - very black; ebony black in the wetness. Large and uneven, small and neatly rounded by the waves. And yellow and many different shades of brown and redness that is sometimes ground down remains of house bricks.

Green shafts of rubbed bottle remain in places. Amber looks dull and worthless but reflects against the sun for those that know what they are looking for. Many colours, many shades.

The only bright unnatural colours come from man made items abandoned. Bright blue cleaning bottles and a solitary pink child's sandal; half a green metal spade and endless bear bottle labels. They pollute the natural beauty of the pebbles.

Occasionally a pebble is rescued from its beach side home but as it dries away from the sea it become dull and unspectacular like it can only shine in its wave side domain.

Driving Past

Trees, like image markers on the eyes, rushing past, blinking out the sun momentarily then allowing it to glare back. Blank dark, glare bright. Blank dark, glare bright. Flashing the markers of the journey - in dark and light. Flashing the markers of the journey in calm and pain.

Rushing air past the window; tyres grumbling on tarmac; grumbling and bumping into pot holes - on and on. Distance felt in each flash and grumble. Distance lost in the blink of the eye and the second remembrance of a landmark or place. Endless fields of yellow or corn; waving past in haste. Time goes on.

Journey continues - music blares from the CD player, unheard in the mind even when lyrics are softly murmured; always slightly out of beat; always behind the sounds; always behind the music; always behind the time.

Always behind the time for journey past.

The time for driving past.

Dix

Should I

Should I
Shouldn't I
Would I
Wouldn't I
Will I
Can I
Make Me!

Trust me to
Help me to
Make me do
Please!

Is there time
Find the time
Make the time
Now!

Habit

Habit
biscuits and tea
tea and biscuits.
Habitual
time to eat
lunch time
dinner time
breakfast time
chocolate time.

Chocolate make me happy
Chocolate makes me sad
Chocolate calms me down
Chocolate makes me sleep
Chocolate makes me.
Everyday brown stuff
oozing down my throat
sweet tasteless goo
that shows on TV
that shows on the
billboards and buses
everywhere.

Cheap and easy to buy
and eat,
secretly,
silently,
quickly,
quick food,
sweet food,
boost food,
calm food,
sticky food,
oozy food,
fast food,
fat food.
Girls food?

Childhood memories of secret binges,
two quids worth of chocolate from the Co-op,
stolen bars from work at the Post Office,
secretly eaten behind the counter in the semi-dark.

Hypergraphia

Hypergraphia - a compulsion to write.

An overwhelming urge to write but not a disorder. Hypergraphia is in the cerebral brain (the bit that controls the body movements, that controls hand movements amongst others).

It is driven by the limbic system.

A desire.

A need.

A compulsion.

A compulsion to find the works; to show emotions; to find inspiration.

It is NOT a disorder.

Hypergraphia finds the words to write; the words that pop into your head; that push into your brain.

It is in the frontal lobe. The frontal lobe where ideas and words cognise.

Hypergraphia is in the frontal lobe - behind the ears - a place where words are edited.

Hypergraphia is a Mania - a frontal lobe mania where words are created, written, spoken and created.

A need to write.

The writing is not always good. It is not always manic. It may not even make sense. It may be a symptom of the mania.

It may be a part of the high.

It may be a part of the low.

Many suffer -we are not alone.

Hypergraphia is not an illness.

Famous people had it. Van Gogh wrote and painted like an addiction.

Lewis Carroll's Wonderland came from behind his ears.

Hypergraphia - becoming obsessed with a manic disorder.

Hypergraphia - obsessed with an obsession to write.

Worry

Last night I was full of worry, worry, worry, worry. I have a pain and was worried about that - worried about what is being achieved, worried about what is not being achieved yadayadayaaaaa.

I lay awake wondering what terrible things the future holds and stiffening my body with anxiety and paini. I worry about my anger and my temper, I worry about my inability to cope with day to day - I worry, worry, worry.

Walking around the living room, physically shaking, unable to rest, unable to settle - trying to calm my mind into doing something else to take it all away. Trying.

Eventually a bath, trying. Returning, trying. And then lying in bed stiff with it all and hoping for some sleep if not a whole nights.

Worrying is a bitch - worrying about things you can do nothing about is useless and futile but doesn't mean you can stop it happening.

Angry

God he makes me so angry - it is like he just doesn't listen to anything. Then he moans about how he is treated and how his life has panned out.

Well here's the news - Step Up - yeah, listen, get it right and be bothered.

Yet again I have ended up being really angry about something that is really small and trivial but that is also really, really annoying. What is so hard about listening? Maybe he just can't listen anymore, or never could.

Now I am trying to calm down and get my act together. I feel shaky and stress and anxious but why - I should have just dealt with it.

So what am I going to do about it? Well set some new rules. He is going to pay for tonight - he gets plenty of money and even others are starting to say he is a brat. He is also going to pay for the container that has not come home from school today. If if doesn't come home he is to buy another.

I will supervise him putting his clothes away, I will supervise him putting his clothes in the dirty bin, I will supervise all the little domestic chores just like when he first arrived.

Needless to say the hand held computer has been confiscated and the dog will not be sleeping in his room.

Will it work - probably not but we have to try. He has to listen and we have to try.

Dix

The Beginning

The day started badly. Half a bar of chocolate - oozing around my mouth and tasting of ... chocolate. I eat chocolate because it makes me feel good - I think - just a few moments of upness that doesn't last but has a momentarily benefit.

Now I am struggling with my emotions. It feels like I am loosing control. So I mix up my diet drink to make myself feel better.

The thought rush around my head - am I failing - is it all my fault? No, no, no, no.....

The madness carries on, and will carry on - forever.

SHOUTING

He shouted. Shouted really loud - right into my face. No, NO, NO. He came closer - still shouting. I put my hand up to stop him getting closer. I was calm. I felt my hand touch his chest, palm flat against him. He stopped. He was frustrated. And angry, very, very, angry. But he stopped.

I calmed asked him to stop. He looked at me and for just a second I wondered if I had misjudged him; was he going to strike me. And for a second I wondered if the same thought was going through his head. Was he going to strike me. Instead he moved back - shouted again, biting his hand in anger and left the room. Left the room to go upstairs and into his bedroom.

I know that with his disability he will probably hurt himself, pull off his bandages and split open his wound; break or rip or damage something. I know this.

And then the doubts come in - did I need to say no. Should I have just let him do it and then not worried but the trouble is he needs safe barriers, he needs to know that his environment is safe and sometimes this means saying no. It means he has to understand that he can't do everything he wants to do.

I felt wobbly inside. Like a shock wave coming over me. It had been such a nice shift but all of a sudden it was awful, painful even, frightening. I just wanted to run; to hide; to leave. But I couldn't. So I carried on - went into the office to calm and feel safe for me.

I had another shift to do the next day - I couldn't do it - it was too hard - what would happen next time. Would I give in from fear? Would I stand my ground? Would he go further? Would he hit me?

I have been over and over this incident. Was it my fault? Am I to blame? Yet I know in my soul I am not to blame. So I feel a failure, I fear my next shift, I know missing a shift is a black mark against me.

All the old fear, all the old failures come rushing back. Why can I not face the world and deal with it? Those days were bad. Like it is all to much for me. It is all too much for me.

And yet I carry on - like many people I have to. But each day, each incident makes me more aware of my need to balance and keep well. And each incident takes away something that takes such a long time to come back.

Staying Calm

We had another threatening letter today. I have had them before but not for a while. And all the old feelings of stress and worry have risen in me. It threatens to come around and visit (Barclays sending the boys in). It says they will come to collect the debt £22k of debt because yes of course we have that sort of money to give because if we did we would just not pay them and sit on it for fun.

But I must admit it is the stress of feeling that someone is going to come to the house and threaten me - they are never physically threatening but just the way they visit and the things they say. They have all the power and we have none. I have none.

So how am I going to deal with this. I need to stay calm. I need to let it wash over me. I have told him that he has to deal with it tonight. Not tomorrow but tonight.

So I am going to darts - I am going to have a good time, play darts, have a laugh and just get away for the time being.

What else can I do? Stress, stress, stress, make myself ill with worry and nothing changes, things only get worse.

I still pray to god that we will find a way to come out of this the other end - but not sure my prayers are being heard.

Christmas decos

I am still taking the bloody Christmas decorations down - why am I making such a meal out of it. I am glad Christmas is over and looking forward to a less muddled looking house. I just can't seem to get on with it.

Guess that is me.

Can't decide whether to throw the artificial tree away either - it is definitely starting to fall apart.

You know what I am chucking it.

New Year , new start - maybe we will have a real one for Christmas 2011.

First Day

This is my first day of being optimistic - of being fortified by optimism.

I ignored the tax rises and the ever increasing price of fuel. I can't afford to buy anything apart from essentials and I will just have to use my bike more. Choosing a different lifestyle can be very positive.

I ignored my bad foot and the fact that I didn't get everything I wanted done today. I did get my payclaim and letter done, I took stuff back to Asda and did food shopping. I brought some very cheap but pretty matching underwear because it makes me feel sexy.

I tried not to worry about work - I am doing nights which is just me and nobody to bother with. I watched some TV and I will do some writing this evening (if only a little it will be some).

I am working hard at looking on the bright side,
I am thinking hard to be optimistic.
I am thinking hard.
2011 will be a good year.
I will be happy.
Yeah

Christmas

I had a good christmas (even though I wasn't well and felt bit crap) it was still good, lots of family, friends, relaxing and joy.

I had a good night new year - it was fun and I felt closer to my husband than I have felt for such a long time.

A good omen for 2011 - yes, yes, yes. Because I want it to be.

I realise I have to think better of myself and the world for the world to be a better place.

I still hate work, I find some of the people I work with well, just terrible but have solved that by going back to nights. Tiring and grim sometimes but at least I have control.

I will apply for more jobs, I will be optimistic about getting one.

Life will be better.

Watch this space!