London.

Last week, I saw a video of people running away from the area where the terrorist act took place.

One of those people running was a woman wearing a hijab.

She was running for her life.

She was running for her life yet some people will say that last week’s terror attack was an act carried out in her religion’s name.

No.

I am fed up of hearing such things.

Every day millions of Muslims go to work and school and live their normal lives. They forget to get petrol on the way home and they help their kids with their homework and they fall asleep midway through a programme and have to watch it all over again. They tread on an upturned plug, have to untangle their headphones and they get crumbs in the butter. They miss work deadlines, get caught out in the rain not wearing a coat and they take their unwell pets to the vets.

They lead normal fucking lives.

Muslims are not terrorists. Muslims are people who believe in Islam.

Terrorists are morons who do not represent a religion.

No more intolerance. No more easy scapegoats. No more fear.

More love, support and unity.

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Song of the week: week 33.

This week’s song of the week is Gold by Ria Mae.

I was lucky enough to see Tegan and Sara earlier this year and Ria was one of their support acts.

Her stage presence is amazing and she’s cute which always helps! Gold is crazily catchy and is definitely a song to blast in the car.

Places I’m drawn to. 

My nan moved to a flat and out of the “family bungalow” about 6 years ago yet, for some reason, when I thought about visiting my nan today I was thinking of going to said bungalow. 

Why?

I have loads of extremely happy memories from the bungalow; including hundreds of my grandad who died before my nan moved out. However, I also have unpleasant memories from it and I’m realistic to know that the building is just bricks.

Having said that, when I found out she was selling the bungalow I was fuming. I had spent a lot of my childhood there and it felt like a second home to me. I would go there after school when my mum was working late and I’d had learnt to ride a bike in the back garden.

But without my grandad it wasn’t the same.

Her new flat, whilst spacious and light, is missing a presence for me.

Similarly, I’m drawn to Derby where my paternal grandmother lives and where my dad spent a lot of time.

I was talking to a friend recently and I expressed a yearning to go to Derby, even though I don’t feel like going there fulfils me. 

“You’re looking for your dad.”, she said “But he’s not there.”

It’s true. He’s not there. Pictures of him are scattered everywhere and half of the person who created him is there but he isn’t.

I stopped myself from making a last minute hotel booking in Derby recently and the yearning to go has gone.

I feel like Derby is where I run away to when my actual life (the monotony of work and the stress of relationships) gets too much. 

So how do I find peace with all of this loss and no substance to fill the space? 

Lying to my therapist.

On Monday, I lied to my therapist. 

It was the first time I have intentionally lied to her in the hope that she wouldn’t think I’m a bad person. 

I realise this is flawed, and I shall list why now:

  • She is, as far as I know, pretty damn objective and I don’t think she’d judge me.
  • She doesn’t believe that people are “good” or “bad”; she understands the complexity of humans and knows that people are more than a three or four letter word.
  • Even if she did think I was “bad” she certainly wouldn’t tell me.

    Some people might say that it shows some disharmony between the two of us if I’m willing to lie to her but, instead, I’d suggest it shows disharmony within myself.

    I’ve just sent her a text telling her that I faced one of my fears this morning. I’ll face the rest of them next week.

    Different.

    “You’re different now.”, she said to me last night in a dream. She’s right. I’m on the brink of a breakdown and a self fulfilling prophecy. 

    She epitomises everything I look for in a woman and yet I know those things aren’t compatible with me.

    I’m all banter and good news face to face and I’m bitterness and sexual objectification online. 

    My therapist told me that I don’t like certain things about other people because I don’t like those things about myself.

    In which case, she’s a fucking flirt and I have no idea where I stand. Ergo, I’m a fucking flirt and she’s in the fucking dark about my feelings.

    Being blunt hasn’t helped so I doubt being sensitive will. Instead I’ll just send her a mixed signal message and get angry when she doesn’t bite.