Cherrypicked stories

Are you brave enough, to come, He whispered, teasing my ear. Jump on, Let me take you, For a ride, show you danger. Open your eyes. And I went, Not because I wanted or needed his pleasure, But because I was young, so vibrant and fresh,

I remember Most things, Such as When it didn't matter If my legs were waxed, Or my armpits shaved, You would love me anyway. I remember Being able to eat cream cakes, Without You saying 'straight to the hips'.

'Are those eyeballs in the jar?' 'No, pickled eggs.' 'Shame. I do so like an eyeball with my battered jumbo sausage and chips.' 'Have a pickled egg,' suggested Mick. 'Begging you pardon?' said Larry. 'Live a little! Walk on the wild side! Push those boundaries to the limit! Have a-' 'Are you egging me on?'

Some delightful dreams are from in you, And made you loss touch from in reality, As I lay down in the confront of my bed, It was a delightful dream, I had dreaming of sweet vision was so sweet, it almost tasteful to me,

Grief is a cobweb of weeds it settles on shoulders like a shrug and turns to lead weighing down slowing the stream which sparkles still light catches of memory but so easily Ophelia caught about

Never invite the Universe to punch you in the solar plexus. She likes to give us what we ask for. "So, how bothered are you about having children?

It's an appallingly hot day, the hottest in decades, and by the look of the crusher this is a once in a lifetime smell. Pure, concentrated stench

too busy conducting the York Minster choir and going out to Taiwanese restaurants with celloists.

And a new journal is started under the new moon. To the sound of my skin splitting and my brain going mad, my body dancing in a frenzy of shaking, joy, misery, loneliness, bliss, gratitude, madness, tears, despair, laughter, hope, panic, anger, fear. I am raw. And full of light. The void, ever closer, ever more real, never more of a mirage. But still, it scares the shit out of me.