Harvey Milk. ‘Go after her’

Go after her. Fuck, don’t sit there and wait for her to call, go after her because that’s what you should do if you love someone, don’t wait for them to give you a sign cause it might never come, don’t let people happen to you, don’t let me happen to you, or her, she’s not a fucking television show or tornado. There are people I might have loved had they gotten on the airplane or run down the street after me or called me up drunk at four in the morning because they need to tell me right now and because they cannot regret this and I always thought I’d be the only one doing crazy things for people who would never give enough of a fuck to do it back or to act like idiots or be entirely vulnerable and honest and making someone fall in love with you is easy and flying 3000 miles on four days notice because you can’t just sit there and do nothing and breathe into telephones is not everyone’s idea of love but it is the way I can recognize it because that is what I do. Go scream it and be with her in meaningful ways because that is beautiful and that is generous and that is what loving someone is, that is raw and that is unguarded, and that is all that is worth anything, really.
Harvey Milk



Sometimes I fear that God will take my eyes.

Today me eyes seen all this beauty.

The harsh Scottish land.

Look at her.

Her ruggedness.

Look at her.

See the water ripple down her.

The cold snow on her skin.

She is wild. Wild and wanting.

I love her. I never want to not see her.

My heart would break into a thousand pieces if God was to take my eyes.




Love and dipping ones toes in the Sea

I was thinking tonight about all the love that has shaped me.

Had some insight into who I am, who I will become.

The journey still continues.

The love that my mother and father had. It was not an easy love I guess but it lasted through time. There is something in that.

I remember first being exposed to love at primary school. It was an odd affair. A young handsome boy from across oceans. I had never seen such a beautiful boy. I fell in love instantly. My father told me to stay away from the boy. Ignorance was quite a thing back then. But it made me love the boy more. His name was Amer Awan.

The second boy mmm let me think the second boy was a long time after. The second boy would steal my heart for many years. I can’t really say much about that boy but I listened to The Cranberries album ‘ There’s no need to argue’ for months on repeat.

The third boy. I had my first child, beautiful she was. I fell deeply in love with her. I had never been so happy. He left. I did not cry after that boy. Sometimes I wonder if I did love him. He was the first boy that society would make me fit with not me. I became acutely aware of that then. Who I ‘should be dating’ as opposed to who I wanted to maybe?

The fourth boy I will never forget. I still cry thinking of him. A beautiful lost soul. A tragic story one that I do not wish to share but he lives on in heaven. I played ‘damaged’ by primal scream on repeat forever. Still play it now.

The fifth would be my husband. God bless his soul. I am a hard woman to love. I really am we have another three beautiful children, they are my life. This family my family is what makes me get up in the morning. Breathe in and out. Sometimes I cry when I look around at all that we have. Our song well we have many but the one that just saw us through a very hard time was ‘shelter’ Ray Lamontagne.

Isn’t it funny our journey through love. The past shaping the future and so it goes on.

Sometimes I wonder where my story ends. In my dreams I see myself old living by the Sea. I am carried in the end by my love, he takes me to the water. He takes off my shoes and dips my old feet in the Sea, I laugh. This is after all the best feeling in the world dipping ones toes in the Sea.

Is it not funny that we live our lives but are also shaped by others. These beautiful people that come into our life at times just briefly but they help us to see, help us to re focus, help us to remember remember our own self who we were so as not to lose that. Perhaps we are all on a journey of love and self finding. Maybe we can all help each other along the way. Maybe if we all just love and look out for one another.


Anais Nin. Some never awaken

You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken.
Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934



You and Me

Take my eyes and see what they see. You will see how beautiful you are.

Take my lips and feel what they feel when pressed against yours.

Take my hands and let them caress your body like I do. Feel the softness of your skin.

Take my nose you will then understand why I can never get enough of your scent.

Take my ears and hear what I hear in your voice. Even when your angry, even though you sing out of tune. Listening to you…. listening to you what it does to me.

I know you’re hard to love. Sometimes you disappear.

Sometimes I wonder if you are mine at all.

Sometimes I wonder if you will go again.

Sometimes I wonder what you paint and I worry that I am not enough for your dreaming head.

I wish I could go there with you just once to see what you see. To have your eyes for a day. To feel what you feel. Maybe then I too could rest in this world.

Our love imperfect at times broken at times the cracks are so goddam big I think we will never recover.

You and me nobody baby but you and me.


Everyone is the same.

If I was to write a story would you hear it. The story of the broken man.

How can one forgive?

If someone tears your soul. Breaks your heart into tiny pieces can you move on from that?

Raised voices.Broken doors.

Do you love me? Do you love me he would say.

Broken hearts, broken dreams.

Can we move on from this?

You left.

You need help.

She needs to help him. She is the one that could see him through.

The sad lonely soul. The broken man.

She  is wild in her ways, needs to be aligned with society.

Everyone is the same she would whisper.

Everyone is the same.

She would watch. She would watch the man.

She would think about running her fingers over his knuckles.

Maybe that would feed her. Maybe then she could concentrate.


Life belongs in the sky above. Her life. Her life.

Not down here what good will that do.

She thinks she might write a letter. To all the good souls she’s known.

She did not belong to anyone the girl. She did not fit in any box. She was lost in her own skin.

Take it she would demand.

Take my body, this face. Take it. It means nothing.

I am a shell she would say.

Just a shell.



Is there something in me loving you?

Is there something in my loving you?

Is there something in my loving you that makes the Earth speak? Is there something in my loving you?

Is there something in me loving you that that means it was never to be. Is there something in me loving you that is not quite right for me?

Is there something in me loving you that makes my own mother speak.

Underground, wild child.

Caged just like me.

If someone loves you that allows you to be yourself then embrace.

If you love someone that sets you free that does not love in return you need to retreat.

Is there something in me loving you?

Is there something in all this?

Is there something in me loving you?

No retreat.