An Audi TT

I have heard straight from the horses mouth - police officers - saying that people who smoke weed as their chosen vice compared to alcohol get in less trouble, or some never cause trouble when stoned. Where as alcohol causes much more upset and fights and instances of violence. I am still dubious though as I believe that marijuana DOES exacerbate pre existing mental health disorders and depression. I saw a documentary that stipulated that marijuana is the only drug that is absorbed by the brain and infact stays there and lingers on for much more time than other illegal street drugs. This must be thc chemical component of the drug as I know the oil( marijuana without the psychoactive thc) has been approved in the uk. And since marijuana effects dopamine receptors that could prove it has a strong link to schizophrenia in my book. I am undecided on whether it can be blamed for causing mental illness. Maybe a combination of genetics and usage may cause serious illness like psychosis. From my reading on cannabis and it's effects on the brain most sources agree that it is most dangerous for teens when the brain is still developing (until 25) and can alter the pathways the neurons and synapses in the brain create. And can cause irreversible damage. So learning is affected since the brain cannot send signals to where they are needed as quickly. But suggest that if a person is older cannabis may be a bit safer.
Thoughts forum?

Don't pay heed to mersey.
I was not flirting.
I felt like the ugly one
Out of charlies lot.
Flirting would be the last
Thing on my mind.
The place was like a small town.
Bran flakes. All the Fars
I have met have been crazy.
Paps. I was not funny.
I was just easy on the eye.
So I liked to try and be nice,
And bantering along too.
I need to get a job.
Got the rest of your
Life to work. I did need work.
I had to go back to
My bank to pay the
Money needed because
It was my personal bank.
The bank I put wages
In from the supermarket
I worked at. The college
Classes I dropped so
I could work overtime
To pay for a long shot,
In vain hope that I could
Silence the naysayers.
I was not funny. And
I was only easy on the eye.
At least I could say
I am an athlete. I am someone.
Even though I felt,
Like an imposter in my own skin.
I had worked my socks off
To get here. And I
Knew it was now or never.
I could go back to
College anytime. This
Was a once in a life time
Opportunity and I had
To grab the bull by the horns.
I was travelling to compete
And I feigned illness to my work.
I did what I had to do.
When I became unwell,
Infinity evaporated before my eyes.
I never felt invincible.
But this was too,
Young for a breakdown.
And in his kingdom
Lucifer laughs as another
Falls and he says
Welcome to hell
It is not as bad as you think.
It has been with you
All this time and
You tried to pretend otherwise.
And I shake his hand
And say thanks for
Rescuing me brother.
Here you answer to no-one,
Isn't that what you
Have always wanted?
At least someone sees
Having my soul as worthy.

I was officially a missing person
For a short spate of time.
Did my parents get sick
With worry that I may be dead?
Nope. They went to work
And they actually forgot.
My mother brought it
Up, when I was in her work.
Obviouy someone had notified
Her there and the memory
Came flooding back. Oh yeah
The police had you down
As a missing person, they
Were looking for you.
Nonchalant as you come.
I wish I could say it was
Hospital that made them
So indifferent to me and my welfare.
But they would have sold
Me to the army if they
Offered families cheques
To take unwanted kids
Off their hands.
I was an addict before,
I almost became an addict.
They marched me to the
Job centre the week
I was discharged from rehab.
My mother acted like
She wanted me to
Have something seriously wrong.
And told some of her
Cliquey boozer I would
Never ever get better
Before I was even home.
I was just a screwball
That nobody cared less about.
The hospital = screwballs.

Ok, eating potato skin
Is evidently not acceptable
In high school.
And the kiwi skin,
Was the first and
Last time I would
Be a clown.
You would be pretty
If you wore make up.
Well, I hated everything
The it crowd stood for.
And with my skinny frame
And baby face I did
Not want extra attention.
So going home for
Lunch was a bit
Of a reprieve some days.
Or I may have done a Fred.
And leapt over tables
To batter someone.
But I did not want to be feared.
And its clear as day that
After leaving the group
I sat with for break
Time and lunch time
I entered some sort of
A depressive phase.
I remember sitting
Watching robot wars
And dragon ball z.
After my parents blind
Ignored my English teachers
Enthusiasm for my
Bright future in education,
I went through a
Massive existential crisis.
I never read a full book
For years and that may
Surprise some peope
Considering I was
Supposed to be intelligent.
I did the bare minimum.
If you do not try too hard
You won't feel so hurt
When it all goes t^ts up.
My family were all:
Prepare for the worst
You will find out
That in this life
Nothing is what
It is cracked up to be.
We are not lucky enough
To hope for the best.
The depression I got
From struggling with English,
Was transferred into sketching.
And then I grew jaded
With that once I
Listened to Pearl Jam.
Only sappy losers
Draw petty pictures.
Nothing came close
To my Johnny Depp
Sketch I did in second year.
My parents were out
A lot of the time so
I relished having sky tv.
I went out with
New friends but I
Felt like a third wheel.
And being "the brainy one"
In my new gang
Felt more like "the geeky one."
And when someone said
They told a stranger
They met on msn
That I was a little weird
When I did not speak
To him while they were
Away doing something,
I said that they could
Have waited until I
Was not at the table
Before saying that.
My friends did not
Even know how to
Pronounce my sport
Nevermind ask me
About it and how
I was doing. I was
Supposed to have gone
Off to university after school,
The world awaited.
Or I did a Jeremy
Like in the PearlJam song.
I sort of did.
Without a gun.
I went crazy.
I never got help
Because I did not
Know there was help
For my type of pain.
Nobody at school
Contributed to my breakdown.
I have fond memories
Of my school days.
And I did feel like
I was respected and
Those that knew I
Ended up on a psyche ward,
Probably did feel a
Bit sorry for me.
If anyone's to blame
It is closer to home.
A stupid embarrasing stunt.
Like the falling man
In Don Delillo.
I could live with that.

My friends introduced
Me to indie rock.
A friend from my
Sports club introduced
Me to punk music.
I liked snow patrol anyway.
Thats boys music.
Not really, snow patrol
And other bands
Appeal to girls.
I always liked urban music
But the killers sang:
Give my regards to
Soul and romance
They always did the
Best they could.
I liked how it
Was was easy listening.
I thought that listening
To angry music
Would just make
Me feel worse.
I needed calming influences.
And I did not want
To be called a goth.
I never wore eyeliner
Incase I was called a goth.
My parents took the mick
Out of me when I bought
A guitar and they
Found chords I had
Printed out. They
Literally laughed and
Asked why was I
Trying to learn guitar.
They thought that
I was not musical.
They refused to believe
I was good at anything.
My Gran used to promise
To buy me a keyboard
And teach me one day.
But she was an alcoholic,
And like my parents
Was good at talking
Out plans from
The arm chair and
Never taking action.
David said that I
Was not committed
To my sport enough.
But I had to work
To fund it myself
So I was tired out.
My brother gambled
Nights away on the pool
Table saying he was golfing.
My teachers picked
Up on me not
Applying myself but
They were used
To seeing disheartened
Kids all the time.
University required money.
We had no money.
When I was sixteen
I was supposed to
Pay them for my keep.
That was their mind set.
Once I leave home
I never go back.
So the extra year
I stayed on at school
My parents just made
Me feel like an inconvenience.
And I thought my efforta
Would end up futile.
If it were not for my sport
I would not have applied
To local college.
My mum worked part
Time in the evening
At a pub and we never
Saw her anyway so
Why did she not
Get full time hours
Or a cleaning job
In the morning?
Why? She cared about
Her social life more
Than her own kids.
I was told that one
Day I would look
Back and thank them
For putting a roof over
My head and food
In the cupboards and
Shoes on my feet.
And true to form
When I hit sixteen
My mum had turned
My grandparents against me.
And I could not
Wait to leave.
My mother pleaded
Poverty to her brother.
They were brought
Up the same so
Why did my mother
Have to put them
Above us and
Make me feel inferior?
She used to push
Me off pavements
Saying I would have
To get used to people
Looking down their
Nose at me in this life.
I never shared her view.

I had a beakdown at eighteen.
I pushed myself too hard.
And I crumbled.
When I was well enough,
I looked to get back on the horse.
And my mother said that
I would never get an office job,
That at eighteen I was too old.
And a sixteen year old would get it.
And Fred hit the roof
At the way my mother was
With me at home.
I told him that I knew
How to take her by now.
And nothing that came
Out of her mouth
Was unexpected and my
Mum was a bit of a
Deviant with her moral standing.
She liked to be controversial.
She liked to bend the rules.
And she was not afraid
To have an opinion.
Even if it was extreme
And usually wrong.
Like saying "foreigners"
Take all our jobs and houses
Ship them back to
Their own country.
When she has no idea
About my grandfather's heritage
And my blood fathers
Side is German.
I told Fred that if Scotland
Were playing England
She would be the only
One to cheer when England
Scored in a pub full of
Drunk scotsmen. I would
Not recommend anyone
Do this in a pub.
She was proud we
Were religiously nothing.
We are nothing.
She was obsessed with
Winning the lottery.
And she enjoyed working
In the pub because she
Could sit and play cards
Or dominoes with the regulars
All afternoon on early shifts.
It was the only job
She never complained about
And my Grandfather
Spoke about it himself.
My mother is not an advocate
Of suffering in silence.
And Fred was right when
He observed my mothers
Odd behaviour towards me
And saying that just because
Her life never turned out
The way she wanted,
That she was cruel
For trying to discourage me
From trying for an office
Based job instead of retail.
Or she was simply jealous
I was young and I over heard
Two women In the local
Speaking about my mother
Saying she had never grown up.
Her and my neighbour would
Check the court websites
To see if they knew
Anyone who was in trouble.
My mother would watch
Morning tv and go to
Work for four hours
Amassing about twenty
Hours for the week.
She would call her
Workmates wife the
Froggy from France.
And she empahsised
In the interview
That she was not idle.
And her workmate
Asked why a pretty
Young woman like me
Was having a hard time
Getting work and that
I looked better with
Some meat on my bones
They joked, knowing
I had been in hospital.
My mother told my neighbour
Someone has to keep
The wolf from the door.
And criticising our neighbour
For overly relying on a man.
I am sure my mother
Was paid off from
That job when they suspected
She was evading from
Speaking about me
And hiding something.
I only applied to the forces
Because the camaraderie
Would have been like
Having a new family.
A career was appealing too.
Having a title and identity.
Fred had a tirade one
Night we were out in the local.
Because my mum was
Friendly with a woman
Who was a "junkie."
Two faced b^tch, she lays
Into you for taking medication
And comparing you
To a drug addict and she
Sticks up for a proper junk head.
She is friends with
Someone still using.
And I tell Fred my mum was
A typical bar maid who considers
Herself a counsellor and listener
To all the customers.
I know she is like the god
Ravana with ten heads.
Amen, Fred says and chuckles.
Fred was not a fan of my parents.
It was nice that someone
Actually saw my side
For a change. My friends
Thought my parents were cool.
Their outlandish views.
And going out all the time.

My mum did jury duty on
A serious case, would be
About fifteen years ago now.
I should be safe bringing it up.
The victim was just an
Average member of the public.
They had been sexually assaulted.
My mum spoke more candidly
About it to me and an aunt,
Because over a decade has passed
Since she sat on the jury.
All she said at the time was that
The woman was a mess in the stand
And it was tough listening.
She spilled the beans and said
That there was a nurse amongst them
Who said that her injuries could
Only have come about from
Being attacked against her will.
And my mum said the accused
Said the woman "was gagging for it."
And the woman admitted she was gay.
So me and froggy were aghast.
I think the jury was hung,
If I cast my memory back to
When my mum had to go to the high court.
But I never asked because my mum
Went on to say: she did not deserve
What the accused did even
If she was "just a gay lady." I had
To ask my mother to repeat it as
I thought I had misheard her.
She said to her brother one time
That she did not care if I was gay.
Her and my gran would speculate
That my female cousin was gay.
My Gran would shoo the dog
Calling it creeping jesus or fascist dirt.
She called everyone
Fascist dirt at some point.

My mums friend had a "sin bin"
In her house that she would
Threaten to put kids
In if they were bad.
It has no religious connection
Even though it sounds like it.
It was from Ice Hockey.
So was more like time out.
It was spacious as I spent
Five minutes in it once.
It had a sofa bed and bean bag.
I ran the taps
At full speed and they
Got the hint I would flood it.
I was only watching
A film on tv and I went
Through to get juice.
The boys told me I
Was ok to help myself
Meaning I could avoid
Having to ask. And
I was balled at.
And when I sat to watch
The tv, I was ordered
To play with the
Boys and I did not
Say they had set me up.
And my mother said
She was fine with
Me being put in time out.
From then on, I played
With all the kids.
And realised that my
Mother would not be
The one to stand
Up for me in future.
And I knew I would
Grow up to be
Self sufficient and
Even when the p2 incident
Happened I found
A way to persevere.
Because one day
I may find I had
Nobody to fall back on
Or someone to provide for me
And I would be fine
As long as I worked
Hard enough. I would
Be damned before
I ended up like my mother.

Would I have stayed with Fred
If he were a total villain:
Of course not, I wasn't masochistic.
I did not believe we were
Put on the earth to suffer.
The question is if I had
Good friends, would they
Have persuaded me to
Live the life I fought so
Hard to strive for before rehab.
That I was the last one
In my group - aside from Reggie
Who they expected would
Give up their hopes for a guy.
But it was not my health treatment
While in hospital that changed me;
It was the stigma that got
Inadvertently heaped on me.
I could feel peoples attitude
Change towards me and I
Could see the malice
Behind the smiles and
I know I was a hot topic of gossip.
It was like I witnessed the
True face of humanity.
That people loved to see
A tragic story just as much
As they loved rags to riches.
Six years after hospital
I nearly made it through
Eight months at a respectable job.
And then I was rumbled.
And I vowed never to
Go back to rehab.
I would rather die.
But again something in me changed.
And I subconsciously decided
From there on in:
I would oppose the machine.
I am not being dramatic
When I say that was
Really my only option.
In this life and times; day and age
Society is not ready
To accept mental health
Like a physical spell of ill health.
And I knew from my
First stint in rehab.
Fred knew the truth.
Why try and gloss over it.
That is why I think
He knew it was crunch time
And we finished.
We couldn't erase the
Fact I had been to hospital.
Not in this town.
Fred never brought
Up any buzz words.
He skirted around the
Truth most of the time.
But he liked to get drunk.
And he only said ward fou-wer
When drunk. Saying ward number Four,
Was frightening enough
When you come from
Where I am from.
Fred had to be drunk
Or ultra stressed before
He let it slip. And I think
He was not proud
Of himself for saying it.
It was a ward in a hospital.
Ward number four.
Throw salt over
Your shoulder so
Nobody you know ends
Up in there if
You happen to be superstitious.
And when I bumped
Into an old classmate
They said your
Not in there now, phew.
It's like a jinx phrase
From a Harry Potter novel.
He who must not be named.
The ward number you
Must not say. Four.
Not thirteen. Four.
We tried to make
A go of it and I do not
Regret our time together.
In the dvd shop
Fred was speaking to
A work mate and I could
See his wife grinning
From ear to ear.
So that's the crazy lady,
Is what my mind
Automatically jumps to.
I just had to ignore it.
Otherwise Fred would
Accuse me of being paranoid,
Or getting "worked up over nuhin."
So when my boss made
Digs like ooh you never
Ate that appetizing looking
Orange in your box.
I just smile and
Change the subject.

I made jokes when I was young.
They just let me out for the day.
I am only happy Laura on a Friday.
Yes I mentioned bilbohall
In an aloof joke but,
I said it once and once was enough.
I never knew what
Weight it really held.
Men in white coats,
Was my preferred turn of phrase.
As I was superstitious.
Walking around ladders.
Not putting new shoes
On the table. Not now.

I was on the computer.
I was probably crestfallen
After I was rebuffed
By a boy I knew outwith.
And his friend.
There was only room
For two on the see saw.
So of course they would
Say there's no room.
Rejection is hard on a kid.
But boys will be boys.
From mars and venus.
I asked my mum to
Pleat my hair and she
Looked at like I was
From another planet.
I never threw myself
In headfirst, I was
Feminine in that respect. Cautious.
I needed some coaxing.
Away to do the jigsaw.
Even back then kids
Never had patience
For things like puzzles.
I was the only one
Who ever solved the
Extra problem solver
In the maths books,
When the teacher asked.
I was steadfast when,
I was positive of the answer.
I remember being absorbed
In my colouring book.
And I think a boy
Got frustrated trying
To keep up with me so
He scribbled over
His entire work book.
And the teacher
Took him aside.
I remember he was
One of the only boys
With wavy almost curly hair.
My hair was straight
Not a sign of a kink.
Then it changed.
It is the way it is.

I remember a girl tugged
My hair tightly and I spun
Around and gave them
A chinese burn. I was
Sent out of class. I
Apologised for making
Them cry. I didn't
Want to be a roughian.
I actually found patticake
A bit tricky. I did
Not like singing
On my own. I was
Hopeless at the hula hoop.
I was ok at skipping.
Helicopter. Helicopter.
Quite liked yo-yo's.
I loved jumping
The gaps and balancing
On the walls. Making
Slides in winter.
Skating went against my grain.
I was neurotic and fearful.
Skating and gymnastics
Amazed me because
They were so free flowing.
And there was an element
Of risks. I remember
A friends dad built a ramp.
And I did it on my bike
But I slipped off the seat
And narrowly missed
The bar. I would have
Had another go if it
Were not for the detail
They went into after
Laughing like a hyena,
When I never injured myself
Or fell off. It was
A sound attempt.
I was like most young girls
If I got encouragement
I would try something,
A calculated risk.

I was taught it was rude
To eat treats without
Offering people. If you
Sat and ate something
And someone next
To you was not you
Would offer them.
So the winders was
Just an ice breaker.
I was a bit shy.
When someone offered
Me a polo years
Later, I thought that
They must be from
"Around dis here parts" too.
It had been many years
Since I stumbled
On such good etiquette.
And I missed it.
At my old work
They never once asked
Me if I wanted anything
From the take out
At lunchtime. And
Manners at the supermarket
We're regarded in
High suspicion. I was
At constant war with
Trying to be outgoing
And being courteous
And not upsetting people.
I went over the mark
When I said that my
Co-worker was not off sick,
He was "grounded" for
Taking home a girl
Who was only fifteen.
He apparently snogged
A sixteen year old
In one of the clubs.
But I knew my pal
Would get the joke.
And he kept kicking
The back of my knees
When I was working
On the shop floor
And I almost fell
Over more than once.
I was a little p^ssed
At his childishness.
I really believed that
Good guys finished last.
And filling the silence,
Is not a smart move.
It normally ends in disaster.
Or you are misjudged.

I shaved all the time.
I had to seeing as I was sporty.
When the girls spoke
About shaving it was
Just routine to me.
I cut my ankle once
Before martial arts
And had to sit out
As it would not stop
And a plaster did not help.
I never took P.E. because
I did not have room
For a soft option
On my time table.
And art was no skive to me.
My two pals would
Sit and act like two thieves
And everyone actually
Began to get annoyed
When they realised
That it took concentration
And focus to produce
A good project. And
Wished they would
Zip it for a while.
One girl said I did not
Need pencil to outline
I just knew what to do.
My blood father gave
Me some tips on
How to paint. We
Played upword scrabble.
He bought me filofax
As well as comics.
The shop was on
The way home and
He was a chain smoker.
So he would throw
Me some crisp and sweets
To take home like
You appreciate as
A young bairn.
And David would
Greet me with "oh look
The simpleton arrives ..
She is chuffed to bits
With a poxy bag of crisps!"
And I would go
Straight to my room
To hide I was on the
Verge of tears. And
He would shout after me.
Brainwashed! Army tactics.
Get a mind of your ane,
Before he brainwashes you.
And it is hard to separate
The hurt from anger.
And I was forced
Into an uncompromising position
Where I had to sit
On the fence and
Not take sides. If
My parents were good
Parents I might have
Never tried to get
To know my blood father.
And I am sorry
For my comment.
But I got my wires crossed.
My father may have
Been a broken man
In his spirit. But he
Thought better late
Than never. And my
Mum was at fault too.
She made it impossible
For amicable dealings.
For all I know my father
Had wanted access for years.
Maybe he felt inadequate
For not having worked
Due to ill health.
But I read too many
Memoirs from people who
Had similar struggles
As me and the first
Question everyone asks
Is of abuse of that nature.
I am sincerely sorry.
For even considering it.
But I had to.
I had to rule out
All the possibilities.
Sorry I never lived
Up to your expectations.

Laura doesn't drink much
But when she does she
Can drink like a fish.
My red head friend joked.
My friends were not
Exactly well off.
And one time two
Men took a shine to us
And sat at our table.
I was just underage
Only been out
A handful of times.
It was early on in
The evening and the
Pub was quiet. The
One speaking to me
Was the oldest son
Of the bar owner.
He bought me about
Six drinks before my
Pal announced we were
Needed elsewhere and
I did not give the man
My number while my pal
Drags me out the pub
And says it's part of the Fun.
I felt a bit cheap that I
Let him buy me drinks,
Then took off without
Even giving him my number.
I felt like a mooch and was a,
Bit ashamed of my etiquette.
Swindling drinks then
Leaving him high and dry.
Not ladylike whatsoever.
When I was at a boyfriends
His parents gave me
Two four pack of breezers.
We went to watch bands
Playing at the hall in his village.
And at breakfast they
Said that I must have
Shared them at the party
Seeing as there was eight.
I drank them all. Plus more.
So I lied about the
Amount I drank .

I took a seasonal job.
I was determined to
Dig my heels in for
Three months so I could
Go on a holiday.
But one person had
Me ear marked from
The get go and when
I found that one line
Was fast and furious,
She said : too much like
Hard work for you.
Implying I was snooty,
And too privileged
To get my hands dirty,
Not that I could
Not hack the pace.
I got one pay check,
Thinking only two more
And I'll keep my eyes
Peeled for something
More permanent as
They cooled down
After calling me the slur
That you cannot top.
And I knew it was
Her own insecurities.
She did not have
A boyfriend and the job
Was hardly desirable.
She came accross as
Territorial, like I was
On her turf. A boy
Who was cordial to
Me changed his tune
When he got closer
To this one insecure girl.
And I decided I was
Too long in the tooth
To put up with such pettiness.
As much as I could
Have used a holiday
I would not stay somewhere
I was unwanted and
I would have had to
Complete the three
Month trial before requesting
A transfer to one
Of the other areas.
My dear mum automatically
Assumed it was one of
Employees of Polish or Portuguese descent.
I had to correct dear ol' mum
And told her it was a local,
Indigenous girl - born and brought
Up in the area, this country.
I grew up hearing racist
And homophobic slurs
And I recieved a punishment
Exercise for saying indirectly
To someone: are you a poof?
But I was 13 years old not 23.
I am so glad I have
A growth mind set.
But there are some things
I will always stick to my guns with.

I can tell you what
I did with the certificate
I put it in water
Until all the ink was
Blotted, dissolved and illegible.
Then put it down the sink,
In tiny mashed up parts.
Rendering it unsalvageable
And completely destroyed.

Dinna fix it. Cher
Sang it best.
I guess I did
Cheat emotionally.

Why did Fred not get
Mad that his colleague
Was suggesting that
His girlfriend was a hussy?
Fred was the one who
Nearly broke it off
When we first started
Dating because that
Area hit a lull.
I wanted a break,
But Fred said, no,
I can't speak as friends,
I would want more.
All or nothing.
Hats off for his honesty.
If Fred was so ;
"Quick with comebacks."
Then he could have
At least joked:
Steady on, my
Bit of stuff is not
Some kind of nympho.
Fred could not admit
That he was tired,
So instead he let
His wife beater colleague
Believe it was
His "bit of stuff."
Just say no some nights.
It was me who
Would spurn Fred
Before it even got
Off the ground.

Sending many hugs to you, Balthascar810