Tippy Toes, Beira Mozambique

I sit on top of a hill overlooking farms and take out the two squashed Berkley cigarettes from my bra to  light one with a match against the cut off flint I got from the match box next to my parent’s fireplace.  I don’t want to smoke but it feels like the most real thing to do at this time.  I fear I have landed in the dullest place on earth – green farms – hedges and no life.

After being arrested in London – Searching for my Beloved in Zambia – and then being arrested in Harare.  I’ve been persuaded away from Victoria Falls by my mother to their home in the UK in pursuit of Olanzapine – the supposed cure for my open heart.

The Shaftesbury doctor has established that I have menopause – through a blood test.  On hearing the result – I feel even more feminine and free to embrace my femininity while men – pause.  I may be wild and strut my stuff – without hiding.  Well I’m learning to.

Besides my eyes are searching high and low for my lover. And I’m on the hunt.  I’m on a mission.  He has stolen my heart – And he is my King.  And when I find Him – I am sure to fall at His feet and drop my tears upon them.  He is the most romantic man alive and there is none that can compare.  I know not One.

I have been arrested in Bournemouth (Psst article), London – Harare (Arrest Jesus article) and now in Cardiff.

In April 2018 in an attempt to rescue the lady I was working for whose chair lift got stuck halfway up the stairs – I dial 999 just before midnight to be told the paramedics would be sent out and not to touch anything.  Four firemen arrive instead and I tell them not to touch anything.  We wait – after making a few more confusing 999/111 calls – I tell them to bring the whole squad.  I have had 17 days of  little sleep due to this old woman and don’t care if I get fired.  I sit shivering on the pavement barefoot waiting for them to never arrive and smoke five cigarettes one after the other.

The police arrive to try and persuade me into their vehicles giving me the option of two which I refuse.

I sit barefoot on the driveway and cry for my dummy – proclaiming that we all need to be walking around with one.  They bring me my Converse as well as the unused box of  ‘to please my mother’ Olanzapine – they have unwarranted-ly searched for in my case.  I am taken to the police van – ready for another adventure but taken to hospital instead.  After my introduction to all the doctors and staff I sing the most beautiful song which sails down the corridor – even I’m impressed then sedated and sent to bed.

It is reported that I had cannabis showing in my blood results.   It is quite common for marijuana to be grown secretly amongst the vegetables by staff so perhaps they do that amongst Zimbabwe’s tobacco as well.

Needless to say I am free to roam again.

I have ravished your heart and I’m reckless for you.