Moments: Stumbling Memories


The nights were quiet. Wild.

I would hold onto my friends arm, eyes unfocused, intoxicated on the latest chemical, stumbling still into the arms of a wall. Slip down and enjoy the sensation of its cold kiss.

I wouldn’t be quite sure where I was going, what I was doing but the serene calamity of it all would wobble my consciousness into a gasping breath. I could stay there forever like that. The pulsing flash and bang of the dingy, dirty club shaking pores loose of sweat. Above me each dripped droplets piercingly onto my flesh, vibrating where it touched. And yet, I was always whisked away. My friends hand would find itself wrapped around my forearm and pull me into the fresh air.

And like that, clarity would appear like the breeze whisping its way around each square centimetre of exposed meat on my body. I would inhale and without knowing it, I could breathe again.

Where was I? Who was I? Who cares?

I didn’t know. I still don’t.

All I would know was that I was thankful for the interruption.

Around a corner we would go. Another line. Another sniff.

I’m leaning, leaning, leaning backwards into myself. Melting on a shoulder. Hands wondering which are not my own. Unfamiliar, clammy, rough and big. I let it happen. And then there’s my friend again – aggressiveness overtakes her. She pulls me away from the melting shoulder and I’m outside again.

We take another line.


Didn’t I tell you?

Didn’t I tell you I was always whisked away?

Didn’t I?

Not anymore. Things change. People do the same. Moments like that evaporate into memories better forgotten. Happiness is futile so why distract it by stumbling in the dark of your own mind? Why absorb yourself in memories too diluted by the pain of the movement?

It’s better to forget it.

So why must I remember?

moments, Poetry

Meeting CharlieĀ 

Dear  Charlie,

we are born into this world on someone else’s terms. Then we are expected to manage its monstrosities, feeding from the hand that they give us.

But if those who birth us tube down our throats that we are nothing but selfish, lazy and ungrateful we are painted the toxic view of the world from that point forward.

We are made to breath down these negative spirals and believe them to be the truth.

However, every time I meet you Charlie, hunched over a card in the bathroom stall of a club vibrating the stench of sweaty bodies and rotten feet, I smile. You make me happy again. You awake my tired body and exalt it with joy, putting a spring in my step as gibberish leaks itself away from my mouth into the atmosphere. You help me to believe in myself and rein my own destiny, a throne in my future.

And then, as suddenly as you come, you disappear again. Hanging me by the arms of a noose, lowering my depraved mass into the body of a dark, dismal well.

Only for me to look up and pray your glorious snow will fall onto me again. Bringing with it you, my dear Charlie, with all your wonderful and splendid hopes, dreams and promises.

Missing you,

the grin of a lost girl
nakedstreetkid out x


Balancing things out: An update of happier times

Okay, a lot has happened and I really don’t want y’all to think that it has all been bad. Bceuase that is not truly representative of everything right now.

So, for my sanity and for ours, here are all the good bits.

I’m doing much better in learning all of my content before my exams because I now go to “night school”. Which, to those outside of my life, do not understand how great that is for me because, as hinted above, I rarely learn or understad all of the content in my subjects before my exams. Which is a terrifying reality for me before every flipping exam which is probably why I get so anxious about each and every exam. But guess what guys! This shall no longer be the case because I am actually learning!

So, hey guys, someone is going to pass an exam soon which I’m excited about and, something I kind of need because…

I got accepted by my first choice university! Which is awesome! How I did it when I was so depressed and suicidal, I will never know, but I am glad I powered through all of those rigorous interviews because now, it is so worth it.

On the note of depression (and the other one i.e. suicide), I actually have a psychological evaluation in a weeks time which is going to be great. Why is it going to be great? Because I can finally start to actually tend to and thus treay and heal all of these open wounds which they call trauma. Yay! And maybe I can get some help with this emotional dysregulation, which would be amazing.

Okay, that is the juice of it all. There is obviously a lot more fibre to all of it, but we don’t have all day. So, perhaps later? Or, in three months, whichever is first! ;P

Listening to: Wait for me by Motopony

Nakedstreetkid out xx


Insomnia’s anxious depression

It is funny because this week I have just not wanted to exist and fall off the face of the earth. But just for a little while.

This week has been something else. Mainly difficult. But fun also.

I haven’t been able to have a full nights sleep in about a week because I’ve been so incredibly anxious. But because of depression, I’ve been so incredibly tired and the need to sleep has been overwhelming. Which has me tearing right up because I’m in this constant limbo where I am stuck in an exhausted haze of churned up emotions and inedible thoughts. I feel like smashing my head against a wall, if only to finally wake up or fall asleep.
It has reached quite disastrous heights.

Oh, and because this exhaustion has overtaken my life, I’ve stopped revising, and because I’ve stopped revising, I’m about a week and a half behind schedule in my revision timetable. Because of this, I’m completely stressed out, but I’m not sure what I want to do because I need to revise but I am finding it so incredibly difficult.

The only thing that is getting me out of bed and moving is my niece. Which is the good bit.

I’ve spent quite a lot of time with her, despite my exhaustion. In fact, she is the only reason I have been able to sleep because I cradle her in my arms and we fall asleep together. Twice a day. Which is great. And then, her and I play catch, read a book (even though she’s not old enough to understand it yet), run around, eat food, crawl until she’s comfortable to walk again, recite our ABCs and 123s and just chill in general. If you’re wondering, she’s only 11 months. A year she’ll be at the end of December.

The really fun bit would have to be work. Work has always cracked me up a bit. Because the people there are hilarious. You slowly begin to learn the jokes that seem to circulate around friendship groups and what not. Which I have to say, are super funny and the more people know you, the less people shout. Which I am a fan of.


I guess that is it for now. Trust me, there is far more in my head but maybe I can finally get some sleep after my horrendous nightmare, so I shall see (and talk) later!

Nakedtsreetkid out xx


Thought Cycling Wonders

Yesterday was a day filled to the brim with thought cycling wonders.

I haven’t been able to sleep properly because I’ve been thinking for hours on end, and because of that, have been pulling out hair like no tomorrow. Not going to blame my tangle (which I now call my Tangle Monster), only because I didn’t have it on me.

But the whole thing started with thinking. Thinking about school, thinking about books, thinking about how much I’ve studied, thinking about work, thinking about whether I’ve paid my exam fees, thinking if I’ve signed up for my exams… The list goes on and on. And this type of thinking lasted for hours. The night before Friday, I was plagued with the same thoughts. However, it had kept me up well into the night.

Which, to be honest, allowed me to go a bit bonkers. I went off on one, hallucinating because I hadn’t slept and drinking some rum with ginger beer to calm my nerves. I ended up falling asleep at 4 in the morning, which in retrospect, wasn’t that late, but for a girl like myself who despite not going to school likes going to sleep at 10:30pm every night and waking up around 7:30am, it was a lot. And it wasn’t a night out and I wasn’t having fun.

I was just thinking and damn near tired of doing so.

I’m glad that I’m wide awake now and have had some sort of sleep, even if it’s only a couple of hours.

Nakedstreetkid out xx


Open mic and other disastrously beautiful night occurrences

So, I went to an open mic night in the evening and it was pretty good. I got to see a few talented young individuals that were rather passionate about their art of choice.

For example, there was a boy who wanted to get into the business of music. What he did was play us one of his originals on the piano and rapped on the mic. There were tons of spoken word poetry that performed as well.

One of the most memorable, the one that I could understand the most was one from a lovely lady named Jasmine. Most her poems were family orientated. In her first poem she presented us with a picture of where she fit in her family. In her second, how her grandmother thought she fit (you should keep in mind that Jasmine was mixed raced and her grandmother was racist). In her third she presented us with an image of her mothers spiralling dementia. In her fourth she talked about her father (who had died a few years prior). And finally, in her fifth she really highlighted how difficult it was to get up on stage.

Another performer (whose name I cannot recall but wish I did) rapped to the instrumental of Jay-Z instrumental, 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one. Except she replaced the words “bitch” with “food”. I missed most of the introduction because I needed to use the loo but I had grasped the main idea of it when walking back in. The rap was about how a casting team said she was fat so she could not get the role. This was when she was barely a size 10. And it was the best because it was really funny.

I think that this night has taught me a lot. Really, I do. I think it has taught me all about what I liked. What I was attracted to the most. Which is funny because I though I knew what I liked. I thought that I had developed quite sophisticated writing style. But really, I hadn’t.

I think I can do so much damn more with my writing style. I’m still a baby in the world of writing.

I’m going to another open mic night on Monday. That is, if I can make it. I’m doing quite a lot on Monday. I start associate mentoring with the challenge which is so darn exciting. I cannot wait any longer. Though, I am afraid. Because I haven’t really done this in so very long.

Anyway, after the open mic, we went to McDonald’s (my friends and I) and started talking. We talked about a lot. But the one thing that stuck out to me during the night was the London riots.

Now, the London riots happened so long ago. When I was younger than I am now. Most of the people that took part in the riots were from boroughs (areas) that were close to where I lived. We all agreed that the politicians reporting at the time did not know anything. For example, one of them kept saying “why aren’t these kids in school. Why aren’t they in school!” When we had our summer holidays. So it was clear that they weren’t as connected to us youths as they believed.

I think something else I realised was that the London riots was large scale. I thought it had been rather concentrated in certain areas of the city. Even thought that was true, I seemed to easily dismiss the effect which occurred in the less concentrated parts of London. I had brushed it off as if they didn’t really happen and the effect of it was nothing. But it was. People were scared. Guns were still fired. But non was reported on the news.

The only thing that restored the image of the youth in London was the big clean up that happened the morning after. If that had not happened, our image would have been tarnished for good. The clean up showed adults that yes, there were bad kids but there were good kids as well and they shouldn’t forget that.

Really, there’s a lot that happened tonight. Friendships, open mic, starbucks, romance, talks, McDonald’s, green hair, guitars, spoken word performances, rappers, singers, hooting and hollering and the list goes on.

But I’m really tired. So, I’m going to bed now.

Night x


So, I thought I published this last night but I actually just saved it. So, I’m publishing it now.