it's not about how you are now, it's about your past and how poisoned you were.

that's the thing; at the end of the day, no one cares how you are now. currently. at present. right this very moment. all that matters is your past and how it defines the person you have become. i don't believe this and i know there are others who doubt it too but i guess the health service would rather urge on the safe side than take a chance. i should be use to it; first medical neglect then discounted because of medical history.

so it is safe to say that my future feels venerable and that the madness feels like a burning twinge wanting to spark.

it's a strange hospital, the place where occuy meet and decides our fate. it's for rehabilitation and i don't mean the drug induced kind. there's amputees and folk with brain injuries and the grounds are rolling, vast grass lawns soaked in rain. there is a school in the centre, a bird table just outside it surrounded in concrete and a cat, spying the bird bath.

i don't like this place; it's unsettling, reminiscent of the royal and altogether less familiar.

there are memories behind us all, moments that created who we are but that should not mean that we are defined by where we come from; who we loved; or what we've been through.

no one knows each others pain and no one should. it ours to bear just as it is not others to judge.

and there is no more twittering and far less unknown "friends". maybe there will be peace in my head and less worrying in my heart.
quinn x xx