Self-Ashtualisation

My introspective mood today and my compulsion to write have given birth to this…   1)    Growing up or older and growing? ·          In a beautiful essay the humanistic psychologist Carl Rogers wrote, he asked himself whether he was ‘growing old’ or ‘old and growing’. This rhetorical question for myself was inspired by that exploration as I would like to remind myself not to stop growing by refusing to ‘grow up, full stop’ but continue to grow. Accepting every evolving version of me is also paramount for growth (see no 10). 2)    A (firm) note on multitasking: ·          Which states, ‘Multitasking, Ashley, applies to everything you do. Once more, everything, meaning, not just physical tasks but also mental and psychological ones such as prioritising and healing emotional wounds… One wound at a time.’ 3)    Has the unconditional love I think I have experienced been real and do I still believe in unconditional love? ·          I have pondered on this long and hard and I

Wrapped in my woollen box of cosy comfort I flapped my part-time wings Which stopped kissing me with a shiny smile Full in the heart-- I shed them when I was in that loud crowd My first name became Fear and my surname Full, I joined the two and removed an L And there's no difference as I can tell. Note: This poem was written in 2016 as part of my second-year Creative Writing assignment. Of all the poems I've written, it's the shortest and my favourite by far.

24 Things I’ve Learnt in 24 Years   1)    Be a writer, not an aspiring one. 2)    Being able to think independently is the greatest privilege, treasure and strength of all. 3)    Don’t just trust your intuitions, utilise them. 4)    Losing friends is inevitable and that is OK. You’ll gain new ones. 5)    Meeting old friends whom you’ve not met for a decade isn’t as scary as you’ve imagined. In fact, it feels amazing meeting those awesome people again. 6)    Holding grudges and not letting go of anger, are extremely destructive weapons that might kill and poison you inside out. 7)    Often times, you can choose your feelings and reactions, the way you can choose how you want to live. 8)    Accepting others’ points of view does not make you a conformist. 9)    You are unique just the way you are. You don’t have to try hard and do weird things to be unique. Just be yourself and you’ll not stop shining. 10)                The reason people love you and

I dazzle, I daze, I drug my projects, Make them sink in my saliva so I can float.   Truth or dare? Always dare. Challenges and challengers Always matter, for they can make me dream That my eyes are actually dice, giving Me the aim to hurl them at my potential crushes, I mean crushers.   I don’t aim high because I’ve made myself the highest. How? Easy! I teach those lower than me to stare With downcast eyes, at me, and if they don’t comply, I’ll Threaten to sink them beneath their blind spots. Threatened, They’ll beg for mercy, damning me with customised hymns. ‘If you dare hurt me again, you’ll be damned,’ I terrorise in a sugary tone.   No one dares protest because everyone knows I can Hit my aim right on the blind spot. I’ve cast a Successful spell, for my followers think they love   Me, though I fear they actually fear me, knowing I’ll shove their heads In a sink. Then, using a bar of soap and a toilet brush, I’ll Cleanse

I turned 23 less than two weeks ago and I’d been wanting to attempt writing this article since the week prior to my birthday. However, I didn’t feel ready for it because I feared I wasn’t wise enough. The time I spent making excuses and justifications on why I should not write it, were some of the most painful moments I experienced as a writer. My inner conscience would not stop nagging at me and I found myself unable to focus on other tasks. Thank God a wise friend came to my rescue by persuading me to just write it for myself. The writing experience was truly liberating and it’s always fun to see how far I’d been on my life journey. Whilst most of the lessons I’ve learnt are subjective and personal, I believe that there might be a few that are universal. Who knows? I might make a difference in someone’s life. Just one person and that would be a joyous accomplishment. So, without further ado, here are 23 things I’ve learnt in 23 years: 1) The only effective way to lead is by exam

Faith: A Short Story by Ashley    Gentle Kentish breeze charmed my nostrils with the smells of fish and chips and salmon steaks. The aromas enabled me to savour the quality time with my daughter on St Mildred’s Bay. A beach whose sight welcomed us with open arms, lighting up the face of the world’s greatest artist and painter, the one and only Faith. Claiming that she was the best was not an exaggeration at all. This claim was supported by the founder of Brilliant Bugs Academy for Special Children, Miss Joanna Bugs. In exactly twenty-four hours, my daughter would be taking her first ever one-to-one lesson with Joanna. A reward for the painting contest. Ah… Happy tears struggled out of the clutches of my eyes each time my mind replayed the moment Faith won the contest. I knew that my daughter’s artistic gift would outshine all the others’. So did Joanna, it seemed, as she confided that in all honesty, she did not expect much from all her other students. I broke down when Joanna offe

I attempted another writing exercise from Stephen Fry's brilliant book on poetry The Ode Less Travelled. As highlighted in the title of this entry, I was required to write two syllabic poems on the subjects of rain and hygiene respectively. The first is a syllabic verse with alternating seven and five-syllable lines; the second, two stanzas of verse running 3, 6, 1, 4, 8, 4, 1, 6, 3. First poem: Rain The sky was no longer blue When rain fell, pouring Staining the torchlight within Especially when The thunder shouted, enraged, Like angry mums who Craved cradles of milk. Painful lullabies that cried Turned my blue eyes grey. Raindrops leaked out from both pipes As the threat to fling My childhood into the well Of stale acid rain Was bellowed out by stunted Adults whose hearts were Crashed by lightning at tender years. Second poem: Hygiene Angels with Dirty faeces were the Names We were given By our older cousins when we Forgot, again, To Brush our