Be Your self

Be your self
Be the man,
Be the woman,
Be the gender
that you are.

Be open,
Be closed,
Be loud,
Be quiet,
Be You

Find yourself
Lose yourself
Make mistakes
Make some sense
take a leap

Open a door
Close a door
Stretch up and reach beyond your grasp
Take an easy choice
Move forward

Rip up old stories
Start a new chapter
Dive in without thinking
Question every step
Get some new shoes

Have a laugh
Have a good cry
Be gentle and caress
Be saucy and spank
Let yourself go

Exercise each muscle till it hurts
Laze until you fall asleep
Cuddle up with your favourite person
Shut the door and be alone
Make your space your own

Sing a song
Dance a step
Play a chord
Write a word
Enjoy yourself

You are wonderful and every action should be all of you. Do not be afraid to be you. Each day is a different day so have no regrets as none of us are perfect and mistakes happen. Don't suffer because you are a human being with sexual, intellectual and many, many divergent needs. Have a wonder filled day.

"Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above all liberties."

"Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to
conscience, above all liberties." Milton's eloquent argument for freedom of speech...are we losing our rite to express what we think?

The Cloths of Heaven by Yeats

The Cloths of Heaven

Had I the heaven's embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light;
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

W. B. Yeats

To be, or not to be : that is the question: Mental Illness is real.

To be, or not to be : that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover’d country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.–Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember’d.

I bet that each day a new Hamlet contemplates these lines; how many of us are going through depression and the meaning of existence and by a quick violent action we can end our misery? Mental illness is real and cannot be brushed away as a person needing to pull themselves together. Please have a look at mental illness charities today and see the good works they do and if you can donate. Thank you.

Pippin Hill

As I was going up Pippen Hill,
Pippen Hill was dirty;
There I met a pretty Miss,
And she dropped me a curtsy.

Little Miss, pretty Miss,
Blessings light upon you;
If I had half-a-crown a day,
I'd spend it all upon you.


ANON

Perjink

I love the Scottish word perjink. It describes a person who is very proper and decent but who has wicked sense of humour. They always are smartly dressed and has twinkle in their eye. Totally reliable. They are the salt of the earth and stick to their principles.

O CAPTAIN! my Captain! by Walt Whitman

O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.


O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills; 10
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths--for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.


My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won; 20
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

Walt Whitman