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Posts tagged with 'fragmented'
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- A muffled thud
- by squirrel1968
- in flyingoverbusstops.blog.co.uk
- 138 days old
- I was awakened from my dreams of beaches and sandcastles by the sound of shouting male voices in the room next door. I know this room was the bathroom as my headboard was right against the wall and i would hear the door banging most nights until i fell asleep as the other children where waiting their turn for wash and bedtime. This was late... more
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- The tin bath
- by squirrel1968
- in flyingoverbusstops.blog.co.uk
- 147 days old
- Back to another new school after my little getting to know where i live tour. Strange school this one though although they did talk English here. The men had dresses on and collars round their necks. Yes it was to be my first foray into religion, that blessed comfort for some and the cause of turmoil and centuries of war for others. I myself am... more
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- Oh we do like to be beside the seaside
- by squirrel1968
- in flyingoverbusstops.blog.co.uk
- 153 days old
- It was to be a short stop over in the care home in Welshpool, so short i cant really remember much of it at all. Where to now with my bag and my little purple car. All i can say was it was another long and endless car journey who with i don't know but i arrived somewhere new and another house full of children on a hill in Hastings. Social... more
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- Reflection time 2
- by squirrel1968
- in flyingoverbusstops.blog.co.uk
- 159 days old
- Well here i am before the next step of the journey. I so far have lived with both my mother and father and have been taken away from both of them , so i guess parenting skills were not the best asset they both possessed. Although saying that life seemed more normal with the short time i was with my father as no physical abuse was present, maybe... more
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- Happy Christmas
- by squirrel1968
- in flyingoverbusstops.blog.co.uk
- 159 days old
- Christmas. The time for sharing and caring, love and understanding, the giving of presents and the smell of turkey cooking in the oven and the sound of excited children playing with their new gifts. Not this one, it was about to be binned this year, why, well my fathers past was about to catch up with him and i was going to be going on a little... more
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- The wrong hole
- by squirrel1968
- in flyingoverbusstops.blog.co.uk
- 163 days old
- Winter was well and truly here , cold , cold , cold that's all it was day and night. Waking up in the morning all you could see was your breath infront of you and you didn't want to take the blankets off to get dressed. No school so must be the Christmas holidays, not that you would know, no fancy shops in Corris with windows of tinsel and... more
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- The chill of it
- by squirrel1968
- in flyingoverbusstops.blog.co.uk
- 164 days old
- The day visit was over and no more was said of it, not a mention of them again, almost like they never even came at all. Back to the norm then, i was learning welsh, even though i was still behind in the classroom i was picking up more and more. Still no friends to go playing with after school, it was either straight back to grandmothers or the... more
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- Stop and stare
- by squirrel1968
- in flyingoverbusstops.blog.co.uk
- 164 days old
- Stop and stare I think I'm moving but I go nowhere Yeah I know that everyone gets scared But I've become what I can't be Stop and stare You start to wonder why you're here not there And you'd give anything to get what's fair But fair ain't what you really need Can u see what I see more
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- Surprise Surprise
- by squirrel1968
- in flyingoverbusstops.blog.co.uk
- 164 days old
- A normal day i thought. The same routine Dogs barking first thing in the morning and me and Andrew go off into the forest to play. We make our way back for dinner and can hear strange voices, well i say strange but in fact they are English voices , you don’t hear many around these parts, not many people come off the beaten track to the middle of... more
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- Welcome to the dark side
- by squirrel1968
- in flyingoverbusstops.blog.co.uk
- 166 days old
- The dark side was the side of my father i didn't know as it was a cunning way of abuse in a new way i had not yet met. Mental and selfish abuse, not physical as i had been used to, nothing in anger just planned and meticulous in its execution I would now find out the smell my father used to come back to the caravan at night with. It was horse,... more
