Monsters Ball

This guy’s pockets are so full of truths, I’m actually thinking of following him.
Other incentive: massive- absolutely massive- Cojones! (Hence the title…)

History and analysis of London’s assets, the sarcastic way.

Loneliness

The number one enemy of the Homeless Man or Woman is not the cold.
It isn’t fear. It isn’t the Street.
It isn’t those evil, degrading looks.
Nor is it the lack of a hot cocoa in a warm kitchen, or a warm bed.

Forget the gangs, threats, or assaults.

The number one enemy of the Homeless Man, the number one enemy of the Homeless Woman: that dark, frightening corner of the mind. Loneliness.

Loneliness prevails when no one quite understands what you’re going through; when everyone else has a home to go back to in the morning . No one knows how it feels to constantly be insecure, unsure of the future, poor and alone.
It is indeed the loneliest place to be.

How to live #3

If you become Homeless… Reinvent yourself.

TfL BHM Effort

Truly, truly impressed by TfL campaign to highlight Black History Month.

The (staff) portraits are great, distinctive, strong, and glamorous.

What a great initiative, a great unexpected pleasure!

Life happens, etc…

Updates, video projects, etc…

Of God’s Sepulchra:

Where God goes to die.

Every time I loved someone, in (Great) Britain, I was simply LYNCHED for it.

EVERY SINGLE TIME. Every time in 26 years.

The choir, the shitty choir who enjoyed the pub more than the actual singing or music.

The shitty classical choir who arranged for FOUR LAWYERS to GET ME ARRESTED on the day I would open up about the depraved, sick, death-and-gore-fetishist boyfriend who worked as their pianist. Not enough that my head was clogged with images of impaled, tortured, dying young women, day and night- and that I had tried to top myself twice. They were DAMNED if they would let me speak, after ordering me out the week before. That James guy had turned up to stare intently at me, after threatening me a few weeks before.

They were my family substitute, so I thought, and I loved them. I made 2 cakes for them every week, and carried them on the bus for 4 years. They didn’t love me. Neither did the pianist. He never did. He was abusive. I lost my music then. I will never, never, never forgive them for that.

My ”best friend” at the time. Had to sleep with him. He didn’t torture her. She was pretty, or something…

The church. Of England. Of course.

Fast forward 12 years, a group of around the same size, British people, Christian people. I loved them. They were my family substitute… Or so I thought. I cleaned and did various tasks, on a weekly basis, sometimes daily: for FOUR MORE YEARS, on a volunteer basis. I also worked there as a cleaner for 9 months. I worshipped with them. The vicars went out on a limb to throw me out, shunned me, cast me out, accused me wrongly, and refused to answer my emails. Their wives joined in. The stupid bitches.

They didn’t love me: I was afraid, I was suffering, I had recurrent heart seizures, within the church. I told them. What did the good men of God do? Shut me out. I lost a family cell, my main prayer environment, people I cared about, basically everything I had. I had no proper home to feel safe in, no money, and no family.

The Married Prick. Who shut me out cold once I told him I had feelings for him. Never wanted anything from him, never wanted “any trouble”, and made it clear that I just wanted to get this out of my chest. TWO YEARS LATER, he (of superb arrogance) COMPLETELY SHUT ME OUT. Wont even add me back on facebook. What did I do?!… Oh yeah, that’s right, that is quite irrelevant, when in foreign land: anybody can shut you out ANYTIME THEY WANT, its THEIR land. He was my teacher, my music teacher. My heart is broken. I just wanted a friend. And to be part of a club, a musicians club. 

The Others. All the Others. The average, The Simpletons, The Ugly, The Beautiful, The Vain, The Damned, The Unfaithful, The Dirty… All the men who WOULD GLADLY SLEEP with me, but never LOVED me. Not ONE of them.

ME: SEA MONSTER, QUASIMODO, UNLOVABLE CREATURE.

Them: superior, British, and of rare breeding (not!).

THEM, those impediments, those profiteers, those racing cars, those imbecilic apprentices.

I NO LONGER NEED TO BE LOVED. I NO LONGER WANT RELATIONSHIPS.

WHEN THE BELL OF TIME RINGS, I WILL BE READY. I AM ONE OF THE VERY BEST, AS WELL AS AN UGLY REPELLANT EFFFING MONSTER.

I AM THE NEW MRS DE WINTER, NOW.

The Ghetto gentry

 I KNOW that as a Black person, I am expected to live in what are politely called “inner cities”. I know that I am supposed to grow into an abscess, an anti-pillar of society, a person addicted to violence in order to express a view.

I have barely survived in those ghettos in England.

I have had to fend off bizarre creatures who wanted my death because I simply asked for silence in the library. I have had to interfere in gangs of Black youths killing their younger “brothers”.

I have had to endure the arrogant breeds of “special” teenage girls who will fight even their own shadows for a lipstick.

I have had the ghetto landlord trying and failing to bed me against my rent arrears; destroyed my existence for years; evicted me; then threw away my work and portfolios.

I have met the library staff and council employees who defended the aggressors, whenever I was threatened with violence.

I wasn’t BORN in one of those neighbourhoods, neither was I born to live in any one of them. I wasn’t born to be nor stay a cleaner for decades.

SEGREGATION did that. Equal opportunities forms helped along.

Segregation and degrees of racial prejudice pushed me into those dark valleys of tears. 

I will never forget the hurt, the fears, the losses, the harassment; nor the price of actually having a brain and ambitions, amongst such rampant social mediocrity.

When someone CHOOSES to carry the ghetto around with them, when they choose to carry arrogant, belligerent attitudes INSIDE and OUTSIDE those emotional backwaters: I forever despise them.

I have never turned into a monster, a psychopath by proxy, a loser, a drug addict, and here’s why: I have chosen a quality of being, and have CHOSEN to escape the mediocrity. 

I simply refuse to be locked into moral, physical, or intellectual ghettos.

I greatly despise people who permanently stay boxed in. 

I also despise those mere intellectual paupers who occasionally visit the areas for a spot of “poverty tourism”. I hate them deeply, and viscerally. They are part of the problem.

London Surrey Kent Hertfordshire belly dancer for Christmas parties Nye 2018 2019

http://www.BellydanceParty.com

http://www.facebook.com/londonbellydancer

 

 

Enfield Council and the mis-education of the ghetto

Does a library in the ghetto have to be less of a library??..
Fed up with that ghetto mentality in Edmonton Green library.  Daily visits there to do my research and update websites always lead me to ask clients to stop being loud on the phone or please leave when their toddler is screaming!  Complained to management and to the Council about twelve times, in person and in writing. Instead of putting up signs as suggested, asking people to be quiet, they will turn on me.  I ask somebody to be quiet and they become vile and abusive, like good ghetto pigs that they are, staff remind me that I should not call them a cretin; and when that encourages the bastard and I film him with my mobile phone, I am vilified by staff and blamed by the council, in writing, for causing the trouble on the day. When will the horror of ghetto ism stop?!..  When will education personnel and library management keep learning areas clean of parasites, when will the parasites who will insist on stagnating at the back of a classroom all their life let other people study?  A “vibrant” place for the community, I was told this was, as a priority over studying and improving ones literacy and numeracy skills.  Never mind the parks, Internet cafes, community centres around the area…. I have lived in a ghetto for more than 12 years, and I am trying hard to get out of it.  I work my ass off. That’s what I have always done.  Everyday I find myself faced with ignorance, violence, screaming babies, chav mentality and basic ugliness. Is it any wonder that the kids end up being parts of gangs wherein they are encouraged to reject authority and anything academic?!…  Is it any wonder when nobody tries their little bit to control anarchists, eternal adolescents, and illiterate behaviour? The human race, whether in a ghetto or elsewhere, the good genes at least, are trying to evolve. And what are we doing about it?… Providing books but punching thirst for learning in the face. Encouraging loutish behaviour and imbeciles.
I am deploring the lack of belief in the ethnic groups living in the area… It is troubled as it is. Give it a window, instead of shutting it down.
Too much asking is it?

http://midnightnotebook.com