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Magazine-style bits for you...


For nearly twenty years I have existed on the outskirts of society and, from this isolated vantage point, I have come to despair of what our Western society has become and is becoming unless there is some sort of deep cultural shift for the better.



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The bare legs of a woman in heels in a manual wheelchair.

Admitting to ourselves that we need to use a wheelchair can be hard.


But dealing with disbelieving family and friends and councils and businesses breaking the law all over Britain can be even harder...


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A vinyl record on a player with title 'Music v Pain' over it.

Music can be an important method of fighting back against pain.  It doesn't just change and enhance our mood, evidence exists showing what a valuable tool it can be for pain patients – as well as people recovering from surgery and even in the dentist’s chair...


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A microphone on a white background behind the word 'Feminism'.

We've all seen it, strewn across social media platforms - the word 'feminist' being used as a dumb attempted insult to women by insecure manbabies and younger women who have, apparently, lost their way and ended up knee-deep in the mire of misogyny too...   


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The words Nice Guys in white with  woman sitting in the dark next to them.

Nice Guys always 'finish last', apparently. Women never choose The Nice Guy. No.  He gets left on the bench, forever rejected by the females he wants in favour of, what? 


Ask that and this where the entire self-pitying trope starts falling apart...


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The words Daddy Issues in pink with a woman sucking a lollypop next to them.

Did I and do I have Daddy Issues? Abso-fucking-lutely. 


But, is this hangover from emotionally abusive situations and paths taken by an adult man who chose parenthood, my fault?


Abso-fucking-lutely not...

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The word Switch crossed out with Filthy under it and a profile of a woman lying on the floor

I awoke this morning with a tiny Chihuahua asleep at my feet and a Royal Marine with thighs bigger than my corseted waist lying in bed beside me.  Thank you, Universe.  Nearly four decades of daily, worsening physical pain, I fucking deserve this...


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The word Pain in white with a hand splattered in neon pain next to it.

EDS bodies are some of the most fragile you'll ever meet.  This delicacy also makes us some of the toughest characters upon this planet.  Pain. It softens and hardens you all at the same time...


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The word 'Wanker' in white next to a woman in a white swimsuit under UV light.

I've always had a healthy interest in sex. It's safe to say since my libido developed, the want for sex has driven me to distraction.


Correction: When sex with another human, in the flesh, has been absent. There has been plenty of  masturbation...


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A woman in white underwear in UV light crouching next to the title 'Tired'.

Feeling my severe Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (HEDS) getting worse is tough physically.  The emotional impacts of this progression, though, are exhausting - and as I told a fellow EDS sufferer today - I. Am. Tired...


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A woman's back with paint dripping on it and the word 'Lover'.

Called frigid in high school, my first foray into sex came in the days when our parents would drive our fifteen year-old selves into the nearest town and drop us off for our weekly pub-crawl, which invariably ended at one or another of the town's sticky little nightclubs.


Times may have changed since then, but my pickiness when choosing lovers has not...

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The title 'Velvet' next to a woman on a branch in a river.

My skin is softer than most of the general population's.  That's a medically documented fact. One of the ways my type of EDS is diagnosed is through examining our skin, and the official medical term for the way it feels is 'velvety soft'...

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The words 'Cut Both Ways' over a picture of my stocking top and suspender belt.

If you're triggered by women speaking about sexual desire or negative experiences with males, leave now. I'll wait while you hit 'Images' to look at my ass instead...The big issue is this for me is this - how hard is it to repeatedly fuck the same person without there being an end goal, other than the fucking?


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Hoping corsets would relieve and support my spine, I soon realised they also heightened my sense of femininity and sparked something inside me I struggle to put into words...



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Unbeknownst to me, that tiny but deceptively bright light would bring out an exhibitionism I didn't know was sitting in my psyche.


What I should have known is...


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also in poetry

She lowers a palm onto his chest.

He stirs and he dips,

As she straddles his hips,

Her nipples sharp, through her silky nightdress.

And as it slides up her thighs

He strains against his binds...


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A breeze blows in to his window sill,

Caressing his skin

And softening his will.

Tries not to feel her beneath him

Legs open.

Wet and still...


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