Brae. A gay woman's tale!

I’m tired.

I’m tired trying when my actions or words are twisted to fit someone else’s agenda or to cover their own bad behaviour.

I’m tired of the bullshit, the lies, the outside influences and those who think a pair of open legs is love.

I’m tired of women who say they are one thing and yet turn out to be the complete opposite.

I’m tired of women who think fun is found in a bottle.

I’m tired of women who think a relationship should be all fireworks, no matter how shallow.

I’m tired of being someone who suddenly becomes no one.

I’m tired of trying hard, of trying to be heard, only to be dismissed or ignored.

I’m tired of not being appreciated for the little things.

I’m just fucking tired.

One of my guilty pleasures in life is poetry … occasionally I try my hand at it .. but Im not very good … this is one of my favourite poems …

‘Still I Rise’ by Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history

With your bitter, twisted lies,

You may trod me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?

Why are you beset with gloom?

‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells

Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,

With the certainty of tides,

Just like hopes springing high,

Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?

Bowed head and lowered eyes?

Shoulders falling down like teardrops.

Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?

Don’t you take it awful hard

‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines

Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,

You may cut me with your eyes,

You may kill me with your hatefulness,

But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?

Does it come as a surprise

That I dance like I’ve got diamonds

At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame

I rise

Up from a past that’s rooted in pain

I rise

I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,

Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

I rise

Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear

I rise

Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,

I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

I rise

I rise

I rise.

I recently paid a visit down to Grantham to take the vow renewal of Lou and Tony Davies … there were a load of ex army girls there … we had to get a photo … Tony made his excuses and went to the bar!

Well… this is it… my old mattress all wrapped up and awaiting collection tomorrow.

Goodbye to the (sometimes) great memories… goodbye the ghosts of lovers past.

Thanks for the memories, I suppose.

The Philosopher by Edna St. Vincent Millay

And what are you that, wanting you,
I should be kept awake
As many nights as there are days
With weeping for your sake?

And what are you that, missing you,
As many days as crawl
I should be listening to the wind
And looking at the wall?

I know a man that’s a braver man
And twenty men as kind,
And what are you, that you should be
The one man in my mind?

Yet women’s ways are witless ways,
As any sage will tell, —
And what am I, that I should love
So wisely and so well?

My Lfest ticket for the lesbian festival in Llandudno is booked for July next year.

I did book for this year but had to sell my ticket because of the trouble with Alice Alice, but she is fixed and roadworthy again … and since I can’t take that crook Sandy Dick to court to get my money back … I may as well keep her and use her.

One of my pals from Scotland is coming down with me and there are plans afoot for a group of my old pals to meet up there! … Im really excited! … Sprout can come too, which is even better!

This being single lark is actually very good, I can do what I want, when I want … and without worrying about anyone else along the way.

I think being single suits me…. I can work when I want to, without having to organise things around anyone else.

I think it will suit me.