Why I went mad

Much in the spirit of zero f@cks, since I took 2 months off work after the police unceremoniously told me that they would not bother investigate an assault because essentially they can’t prove what I did and didn’t do willingly.

So I might as well pop this on the interweb.

I’ll leave out surnames as they sods had my sanity; they’ll not have my wallet for defamation.


What happens when you photocopy a photocopy and photocopy a photocopy and…

Is it imagination run amok?

I wish that she- does she?

Why wouldn’t she?

Please let her be that way

Please let me be

The object of that “lesbian tendency”

Am I bait enough?

Am I beauty enough?

Are you shallow enough?

Vapid enough?

Empty enough?

Disconnected enough?

Conceited enough?

Desperate enough?

No, you’re not for me.


Inspired by my voices “lesbian tendencies”, something they blither on about a lot. Copyright J N Ali 2016


Oh how do I love everybody right now

That the sun shines brighter

Though clouds mar the blue skies

And I watch the world through rose-tinted glasses

Like a newborn, everything is beautiful

Everything is beautiful

And of design, I can see – it’s not mine

Am I a puppet in a show?

I hate you

This life isn’t mine, I don’t want it

I’d rather be dead and free

Than alive and your plaything

I don’t know what to believe


Copyright J N Ali 2016

Are you googling?

I don’t like being told what to read
Or do or say or wear
Or what to eat
Or especially when to sleep

Google has become overbearing
It tells me what I should be wearing
You’d think that this would be scaring
But it’s too late
Zombie apocalypse is come.

Copyright J N Ali 2016

“Sleep deprived and oversharing. Night :*”

Passive-aggressive & I don’t care

I just had a eureka moment. Or I’ve been having one for a while.

I’ve seen doppelgängers everywhere – right – but none so chilling as one I saw at a neighbours birthday party. His name may have been different (Don), he may have been tanned and he may have had a southern accent but his mannerisms were no other than the exact same as Abdel (read sticky post)

He even said the exact same phrase the exact same way “That’s your man.”

So that’s why you ran to the other side of the island, perhaps neighbour because this is the same man and you’ve aligned yourself with a sick rapey piece of shit. Or perhaps you were involved. If this is the case, justice would be him doing the same to you.



I feel like I need to say something because my voices are chatting about it. So, I’m assuming if I am being tested in some way, you’re probably listening in. Or I’m nuts, but it’s a benign nuts so here we go:

Why do I not freak out? Because, dear souls if you read the post above I’ve had so much worse, seeing the odd doppelgänger might freak me out but I’m not going to show it.

I’m an enduring woman, I endure well and actually I don’t like people to know they’ve got me, especially if I’m not 100% sure someone is trying to get to me. It serves no purpose to make a tit of myself in public.

I just heard “but we tested her, so many times.” I had to write a response. It’s like seeing a ghost isn’t it – if the ghost is immaterial and can’t touch you, you have nothing to fear really.

Hearing too many voices, a sure sign I need to interact with people more…

Delay, repay & crimes against humanity

I am really angry with Southern. I’m sick of shoddy train service – the fact is they have the monopoly on my area and I don’t want to pay for them anymore. I never saved a single ticket over the last year or so, when it has been particularly bad – I’m trying to declutter. So I can’t delay repay. I’m not too cut up about that side of it – although I will of course keep my tickets from now on because this train company is ridiculously shit.

It did make me think of how much those who assaulted me should probably pay me in compensation. Of course, money does not make it better. I’ve spent years of my life nursing myself back to health – but I’ve had to do it with a tonne of debt and I’m sick of counting pennies. I just want to be free of all this rubbish.

So, had I completed my Masters I would probably be on at least double the salary I’m on now. Let’s make up for lost earnings over the years, plus the stuff some of those druggies stole. The total comes to nearly a quarter of a million, and that is a conservative estimate, as it doesn’t begin to cover the therapy I have paid and will continue to pay for, as long as I need healing.  Let’s call it a million, because the scars I have will take a lifetime to heal. I think that’s fairly cheap, if you consider the cost of living where I am and the cost of housing. I might have been able to live with other people had I been able to trust.

Let’s call it 5 million.

There is never enough money in the world to pay for what I’ve faced, but everything they have is a good start. I can take care of the rest.