Tessa stirred, lifted her head from the pink pillow, saw bright daylight coming through the gap in the yellow curtains. What day is it? Saturday. Good. No rush. Can lay here for a while. She laid her head down again. She felt beside her with her hand. No one there. Good. Sometimes she invited a man back if he seemed ok and she liked him enough. Obviously, last night she’d not met anyone worth the coming back with. Just as well. She wasn’t in the mood for waiting on them over a breakfast table; talking about the previous night, what it had been like for him or sometimes for her if she had brought back a girl. No one. Just empty space. Although Teddy was there. His one ear was smooth; his fur was thin and sparse. She brought him to her lips, kissed his small head. Hello, Teddy. His glass eye seemed to gaze back at her; the button eye was darker, unseeing. Poor Teddy. Battered and worn. We’ve been together now for…how long? Twenty years? She laid him beside her; kissed his nose. He lay there looking at the white ceiling. Silence. Not a great conversationalist was Teddy. He’d not said a word in all the years they’d been together. Although as a child, she thought he had, would talk with him, play games with him, told him all her secrets and worries. Moreover, of course, he had witnessed things, seen her play with her dolls, with men, the occasional girl, and seen her with all kinds. She brooded for a moment; let the idea of what he may have seen swim around her mind. She had become so used to him being there in her bedroom that she’d given no thought to what he may have seen over the years. Good God. He’d seen all that, never said a word, or moaned or complained or judged her. Too many did that; judged her. But never Teddy. She turned her head, kissed his furry cheek. He didn’t always lie on her bed, when she had company she put him in the armchair in the corner, or on the dressing table by the window. Once one of the men she’d brought back has tossed Teddy across the room, she had become cross, swore at the man, picked up Teddy, kissed his brow, cuddled him against her cheek, told the man to go, leave her because if he could do that to her Teddy he might do it to her. The man shook his head, left thinking her slightly touched, ******* up one of his eyes as if he thought she had lost the plot. Maybe she had, she didn’t care. Teddy had seen her as a little girl, seen her cousin creep into her room, seen him climbed into her bed and do things to her, seen her squirm, seen his hand over her mouth, heard his threats. She hadn’t thought about that; hadn’t given it any thought until now. Remember that, Teddy? He threatened me with all kinds of things if I told anyone what he did. What a *******; what a creep. He’s married now, Teddy; got kids of his own. Poor things. Makes you think. She sat up in bed, stared at the daylight through the gap in the curtains. She got out of bed, sat on the end looking at the wall. Never said a word. Never told anyone, except Teddy; she’d told him. Everything. How it felt; how she felt; how ***** it had made her feel. Teddy listened; never judged. Always there with that look about him, that wise gaze. She sighed. If she saw her cousin now, she said nothing, just stared at him and he stared at her, a knowing look on his fat face. She looked back at Teddy in bed, saw his gaze on her, saw his uncritical gaze. She loved that about him. Loved that look. Breakfast, Teddy? Like I used to make you? She mused on her efforts to get him to eat his breakfast as a child, but he never did. You were awful at eating your breakfast. Mother told me not to give you any, but I always did; always gave you some of mine. It made Father cross, made his face become all stern and cross looking, and he threatened once to throw you out when we moved from that old house to the new one. But I hid you so he couldn’t. You saw him when he spanked me; heard my cries. Mother never came or said anything, but you were always there; I am sure I heard you say you loved me, would always be there for me. She nodded her head. Sighed. The strong silent type was Teddy. Always there. With his one glass eye, his balding fur, his one ear. Haven’t seen them for years now, the parents. They’re in Oxford; I’m here in New York. An ocean between us. Miles and miles. We’re here, Teddy, you and me. Just the two of us. Just us, this apartment, the paintings on the walls, the jazz on the CD player, our secrets, all our own secrets. Just us. Just you and me. Eh, Teddy? Eh? Silence. Teddy, the strong silent type and me the mouthy *****. What a couple. What a pair. Me here, you there. She laughed, looked at Teddy’s moon shaped smile, the smile was always there, a welcome smile, a smile to warm her, to tell her she was good, she was loved. Yes, loved; wanted for whom she was inside, not for what she said or did or didn’t do. Just you and me, Teddy. Just you and me.

Was there ever a more beautiful sound than your name? To speak it aloud makes my heart ring like a bell. Strange to imagine that, isn’t it – a heart ringing – but when you touch me that is what it is like: as if my heart is ringing in my chest and the sound shivers down my veins and splinters my bones with joy.

Why have I written these words in this book? Because of you. You taught me to love this book where I had scorned it. When I read it for the second time, with an open mind and heart, I felt the most complete despair and envy of Sydney Carton. Yes, Sydney, for even if he had no hope that the woman he loved would love him, at least he could tell her of his love. At least he could do something to prove his passion, even if that thing was to die.

I would have chosen death for a chance to tell you the truth, Tessa, if I could have been assured that death would be my own. And that is why I envied Sydney, for he was free.

And now at last I am free, and I can finally tell you, without fear of danger to you, all that I feel in my heart.

You are not the last dream of my soul.

You are the first dream, the only dream I ever was unable to stop myself from dreaming. You are the first dream of my soul, and from that dream I hope will come all other dreams, a lifetime’s worth.

With hope at least,
Will Herondale

Tessa VII




I am curious, on your man, woman- advice friends. Tac-
tically impotence only wants to say, what if? The long line of
this hissing in my ear can drive me mad. And than I'm saying
'Look who's talking'. It's the diplomacy on treading carefully
on your feelings. What if I hurt you and lot's of apologies?

Your friends are holding me in contempt for loving the way
that you are. Or, that could be a state of the art opinion and
self hollowness, when liberated for too long. Horses don't eat
meat or Beef Wellington. And you are a fine equus, I know...
I am waiting for this morphology, muscles turning to butterflies.

Nine days ago we were in unfamiliar territories, still. A diamond
had fallen from off the forehead unto the floor, a stony wall
horizon. I am following the Ivy towards your thinly path through
the woods. It is more than a thought, or impulse. If you want
my advice, a moment's blindness could do us many wonders.






Tessa VIII




Where is the fountain of youth in our future, today, tomorrow,
thereafter? Interesting seeing or watching two adults trying
hard to find this childlike 'would you like to be my friend?' talk.
Men walk through rocks and mountains, and women are at the
tunnel's end waiting for collision. Questions are being asked,

whether we started off the wrong way. It wasn't in my app, or
yours and looming before us. You grassed me up, I am a British
criminal of the surreal land. Marshes and bush are on fire, I like
singing this song. Or change all this to care for each other, and
forget that we are pixies. I never liked Kilroy, my late

confession. ET went home, alone, and now is staying on the
planet of Extraterrestrial. As for your idyllic nature the fountain
of youth was love. A quiet place in the evenings perhaps, and
I will find you there. Halfway under the full moon and spider's
mating season. If death may be the fate I may find, playwright.






Tessa IX



I need a cigarette, chuckle at something trivial, or go to bed and
call for the whales. Why it end up here in this way is only
making sense if you are a living memory. What is the story of
your life, a matey question unanswered. You are trying to hide
from triviality, I get that impression from afar. Pain in my shoul-

der, just off the blade. Are we going somewhere this after-
noon? The cricket field is empty or mental asylum. How do
we pretend in a pretend world? Let's get M, the M- word,
or negation and forensics. I need a hug or group hug of you
and me. If you can't laugh now, I am not a comedian, S U C.

If I would have
to write your name
a thousand times,
I would.

My hands would
tire and cramp---
but it would be
a pleasant cramp. A
pleasant
tiresomeness.

For your name is pleasant
and it would be
too much
of a
pleasure
to write it
a thousand times.

The night was washed out in a errie blue grey. The moon made the beat for me a bit less anxious.. This part of the city aint never been kind. Taking a long drag from a stale ciggarette i thought about the dective boss man introduced me too at the bar. A Robert Cobalt. A steely dispostion and eyes that cut through in a way that didnt make total sense. He told me about a  lead. Riches and adventure await if I'd just put aside some morals and go with it he said. Diamonds.. Always been attracted to the worthless things, theyre just rocks but I bet a fist full of em.would make any man feel like a god. The light turned green and I wondered what would make a man get all twisted up and go after such a thing. Turning a corner towards 8th street I looked out my passanger window and saw something not too out of the ordinary on this side, a man approaching a women, knife in hand and a gait that meant bussiness. I turned on my lights and told the sunnuvabitch to stop where he was, guess the man was desperate cause he ran full force towards the women, after her bag id guess. Reflex and training set in and i went through the motions, the whole time thinking theres no way i could be fast enough to stop this. What i sae next surprised the hell outta me. Calm as could be, right before the man got to her and right as i was stepping out of the car she threw an elbow right into the mans chest. He doubled over, caught of guard by the heavy blow. She grabbed the back of his head by his hair pulled him up straight and flat laid him out with a well placed blow to the jaw. Subsequenctially my jaw hit the floor. I walked towards her slowly, the threat neutralized. She stood calmly and lit her self a smoke. She told me her name was Tessa. Tessa rosiere. A privite invistagator. I guess i looked more shaken than she did as she offered me a ciggarette. I stood there for maybe a bit too long without saying anything and the man started to groan and stir. I asked what she was doing out here this late already knowing the answer. Following a lead she says.. Before i can ask more theres a bright flash a strange smell and a dull pain. I look down and my stomachs leaking blood. Cant remember much after that. No idea who had shot me but waking up in the hospital on the east end was surprise. Still alive i guess. The sterile scent of the room made me feel like.running and the sight of all the tubes sent my heart faster than it needed to be. Shot in gut. Either by tessa or by that ***.. Maybe even some one else who knows. Still alive though.. Oddly the tgought of diamons crept into my scattered brain. The idea seemed more than appealing now.  No more late beats in a bad part of town. No more getting shot,  no more having to work. Just a fist full of diamonds and the freedom.to do as i wanted. My last groggy thought as the flourecnest lights blurred was of Cobalt.. I'd find the *******. And see what he had to say
.sleep took me like a riptide.

It wasn't long after when I got out of the hospital. The doctor gave me all kinds of prescriptions but I knew the only medicine i needed was waiting for me in a smokey room full of tired souls. A double on the rocks. I walked into the run down pub and the smell of cigars and whiskey welcomed me like a hug from my father. Only not as warm. "Double on the rocks. Keep me comin til I leave." I said. Muddy Waters was painting the whole place blue. "That's not gonna help you heal, jewels.." A voice said behind me. I turned around and it was special agent Heller and her trainee Agent Ronen. They had sweet faces but you'd be a lucky man to not be on their bad side. Heller blew smoke in my face with a smile. I guess that's as close as I'll get to a "welcome back". We sat and talked for a while while Ronen looked at her phone. She wasn't into conversation much. Once we were all sure we had one too many, we were ready to call it a night until Ronen got a call. "****. Don't pack it in just yet." Heller scoffed "I'll be ****** if I'm gonna go wipe some rookies nose this late at night." Ronen looked at her boss sternly. "You're gonna wanna see with one. It's not rookie this time. Murphy Pendleton just kicked the door in on a **** lab on 92nd street". Pendleton. That crazy *******. Hearing his name ****** me off. "You guys can go handle that ******* on your own. I'm not..." "No. You're coming. I saw your badge and Gun. You might as well be on the clock Jewels. Let's get down there before he scares off the camera crews again. It's gonna be a long night." Heller said putting out her cigarette in my drink. She was right. No one ever wants to walk in on a crime scene if Pendleton is involved. Chief Cobalts been after that ******* badge for years. But ******* does he get the job done. Tip the bartender, grab the coats. Time to see what fresh hell was waiting for us. Before we left, I put Tom Waits on the jukebox...

I don't even hear the sirens anymore. We all got in Hellers squad car and headed to the crime scene. I see the lights flashing from the roof of the car. But the sirens might as well be the sound of a car passing or a telephone ringing. When you hear something everyday, it just fades away. Heller and Ronen sat up front and I was in the back. I had forgotten how cramped it was back there. It took me back to when I was a stupid kid. Back when I was afraid of those same lights and same sirens. Back when i still saw people passing by, not just potential criminals. We pulled up to the crime scene and the press was everywhere. The whole front of the building was taped off. "Well at least there aren't any bodies in the street this time. Looks like Pendleton could be getting soft on us." I saw Ronen let a smile slip across her face. I couldn't help but laugh. We all know Pendleton's rep. I guess you gotta have a dark sense of humor for this ****. One of the rookies I liked was holding the line. "Ventus. What are we looking at?" I asked while lighting up a cig. Ventus looked down at her feet. "It's not good. He really just......it's not good." She said in a tired low tone. Heller put a hand on her shoulder. "Go home Tera. We can handle this. Jewels. You go on ahead with Ronen." Heller said. We walked under the tape and towards the scene. The door to the small shop was handing off the hinges. Bullet holes in the glass. Blood on the floor. The red trail led us to the back room. One. Two. Three. Four. Four dead bodies. Blood on the walls. And in the cleaning supply closet on the back wall off this moldy dreary **** lab sat Pendleton on a over turned bucket. He still had his pistol in his hand. "Ronen. I'm gonna..." I started. "Psh. You don't gotta tell me twice." She said before exiting back to the front of the store. A shoe shop with a **** lab in the back. That's a new one. I started towards Pendleton. It was hardly a graceful entrance on account of having to dance around dead bodies. About 3 feet from Pendleton is where I noticed, the man wasn't shaking. He was just sitting. "Pendleton. What the **** are you doing? What happened here?" I barked. "Got a lead on this lab and came to investigate. As soon as they saw me, the pulled their guns. I didn't wanna get left out so I pulled mine. The 2 up front ran to the back. Caught the tall one in the shoulder. Reloaded and came back here. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom." He said. Calm and collected. "There's only 2 guns on the floor. The other two, why are they dead?" I asked. "**** Jewels. Maybe after I dropped the two with guns, the other 2 picked them up. Maybe I did what I had to. And maybe I'm not in the mood for all YOUR ****** QUESTIONS." He yelled looking up at me. His teeth showing like a mad dog. His gun was still in his hand. "Get your **** together Pendleton. This isn't the time or place for your ****. And put your ****** gun up. The cameras are right outside." I said quietly. Pendleton was a loose canon. And I made it known I hated his guts. But hey, you can't choose who you work with. "What's the matter with you? Normally you woulda left by now. Why are you sticking around for this one?" I asked looking around the room. Pendleton reached in his pocket and pulled something out. "I pulled the IDs on all these guys." He said handing me for drivers licenses. "Jacob Wrens, Joseph Brown, Tanner Wilcocks and David........Cobalt..." I read to myself. I darted my eyes at him. His face was dead. His eyes were grey. "Murphy.....are you telling me......one of these kids is the chiefs son?" I said slowly. He looked down at the floor, opened his mouth and said ".....was"

She's been enjoying her time while living and working in London.

And Nicole Kidman was clearly thrilled to be one of the star guests at The 60th Women Of The Year Luncheon & Awards in the British capital on Monday afternoon.

The 48-year-old actress - who is currently starring in West End play Photograph 51 - cut a beautiful figure in a multi-tonal lace dress as she arrived at the prestigious event, held at the InterContinental London Park Lane.

The willowy beauty covered her slim figure in the mid-length dress, made up of several different lace panels in pale lilac, purple, yellow, black and white.

Cinching in at her slender waistline, the dress billowed out into a full A-line skirt, and also included long sleeves.

A Victoriana-style high-necked black lace section finished off the gorgeous garment, giving her a serene, ladylike air.

The Australia actress teamed the eye-catching dress with a pair of strappy black heels with pointed toes, and a tiny black box clutch.

Her pale red locks were swept back into a chic updo, her mid-length fringe framing her face.

The actress' bright blue eyes were highlighted with just a touch of mascara, and her beauty look was pulled together with a pretty pink shade on her lips.

Nicole was one of many star guests at the annual central London event, held to honour amazing women across all industries.

The famous event, which paid special tributes to six remarkable women from all fields, saw plenty of other star guests in attendance, with 400 in total at the luncheon.

After rising to fame as the winner of this year's The Great British Bake Off, Nadiya Hussain was one of the star attendees at the highly-significant ceremony.

The talented baker and busy mum, 30, rocked a simple and chic ensemble of slim-fitting black trousers and a crisp blue blazer, and bright turquoise heels.

Another familiar face was singer/songwriter Katie Melua, who opted for a cool androgynous ensemble.

The Call Off The Search hitmaker showed off her lovely long legs in a pair of black leather trousers, teamed with a sheer white blouse, a blazer and a cute black ribbon ******* around the collar.

Writer-comedian-actress Meera Syal rocked a typically unconventional ensemble as she arrived, cutting a striking figure in a bold patterned shirt dress with a lovely long black scarf and a jacket thrown over the top.

Princess Diana's glamorous niece Lady Kitty Spencer channelled a power-dressing 1980s vibe in a standout black shirt dress with bright, colourful buttons donw the front.

The pretty blonde finished her luncheon look with a chunky white clutch bag and perspex heels.

Choreographer and former Strictly Come Dancing star Arlene Phillips was a chic addition to the guest list in a figure-hugging red dress, and TV presenter and journalist Julie Etchingham wowed in an understated taupe dress with an origami-folded skirt and matching cropped jacket.

Also in attendance were the likes of Dame Esther Rantzen, TV's Lorraine Kelly - who was glorious in a gold lace frock - Maureen Lipman, Mary Nightingale, Jo Brand and

The Women of the Year winners were whittled down and chosen by a panel of notable, accomplished women: Sandi Toksvig CBE, Sue MacGregor CBE, Dame Tessa Jowell MP, Baroness Doreen Lawrence OBE, Jane Luca, Ronke Phillips, Eve Pollard OBE, Lisa Markwell, Gill Carrick and Sue Walton.

And viewers of popular morning programme, ITV's Lorraine, were also able to vote for their Inspirational Woman of the Year via a phone poll.

Sandi, President of the Women of the Year Awards, said: 'Women of the Year has celebrated the wonderful achievements of women since 1955.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/mermaid-trumpet-formal-dresses

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People say you can tell a lot about a woman's style by what her nails look like.
For my mother, acrylics with baby pink sparkly french-tips.
For the blonde sitting at the nail dryer, coral.
Something about the color
looks strange with her new engagement ring.
She talks about how the second time she hung out with her fiancé
she asked him to paint her nails.
Her mother, who she insists she'll pay for, gets french tips.
They look new and fresh in contrast to her tarnished wedding ring.
The little girl with skinned knees and bug bites sitting in the chair across from me asks for blue polish on her toe nails.
Her mother tells her she should get pink.

2.
The act of women getting their nails done reminds me of warriors being armed for a fight.
long acrylics,
pointed,
rounded,
squared,
all fit for different types of battle.
Pointed for the woman who has to walk home alone at night,
rounded for the woman in the workplace who must work harder than her male co-workers,
and square for the woman at home raising her kids to know that strength and kindness
are the same thing.


3.
The women who work here speak better English than most high school students.
And their accents tell stories that I will never know.
An older woman speaks loudly and slowly,
she treats them as if they do not understand.
She will not speak to anyone but the owner; she wants him to translate what she wants to the salon workers.
What she doesn't realize is
that she is the only person here who doesn't understand.

4.
The little girl's doll is named Tessa.
She tells me that she likes my hair and shoes,
even though she has been told not to talk to strangers
twice in the last hour she has been here.
She asked her mother for change,
we all assume it's for the gumball machine in the corner.
She puts all of it in the charity jar.
I hope this girl never changes.

5. Having bare nails in a nail salon
feels the same as being naked in public.

6.
I feel terrible for laughing at the women trying to walk in those little salon flip-flops.
Some look like ducks,
others look like trained Barbies;
marching
newly polished,
ready for the world to chip away their coating
over,
and over,
and over again.

my paris begins with
those early days
as a conscious flaneur
i recall the couple
seated opposite me
on the metro
when i was still innocent
of its labyrinthine complexity
slim pretty white girl
clad head to toe in denim
smiling wistfully
while her muscular black beau
stared through me
with fathomless orbs
and one of them spoke
almost in a whisper
qu'est-ce-que t'en pense
and it dawned on me
yes the young parisienne
with the distant desirous eyes
was no less male than me

dismal movies
in the forum des halles
being screamed at in pigalle
and then howled at again
by some kind of madman
or vagrant who told me
to go to the bois de boulogne
to meet what he saw
as my destiny
menaced
by a sinister skinhead
for trying on tessa's
wide-brimmed hat
getting ****** in les halles
with sara
who'd just seen
dillon as rusty james
and was walking in a daze
sara again with jade
at the caveau
de la huchette jazz cellar

cash squandered
on a gold tootbrush
two tone shoes
from close by
to the place d'italie
portrait sketched
at the place du tertre
paperback books
by symbolist poets
but second hand volumes
by trakl and deleve
and a leather jacket
from the marche aux puces
porte de clignancourt
losing gary's address
scrawled on a page
of musset's confession
walking the length
and breadth of the rue st denis,
what an artist's paradise
(as juliette once wrote me).

Tessa III



Two people sitting unidentified in cinema seatings missing
reality. If we touched classical screen will be on, two to 20
minutes long. A private facility at home, what is happening?
A million faces said it before, *** can't change things when
silent. It's not about the hurt or pain of memory humanity,

a gut feeling that won't come out. Your bowl of fruit, act sur-
prised. Turning up the dramatic sound, it won't be a smash hit.
I am trying to forget about your special traits. I got talent, you
see... If I go toward the exit first, our secret will self- destruct.
"Houston, we have a serious problem. Re-entry zero burning."






Tessa IV



It's easy once you see it, yours and mine ideology. I
want kindness from you, from me, when we sleep. Bla-
ming is the gravestone when all method is dead. Our
bed is floating and we can't say why. I am capable of change,
another challenge to meet the talisman. Indifference

to use in this sentence upholds the vision, was it virtue,
loneliness? That is the supporting middle that we have.
Friday morning glory, coming in boxes on the table. For-
tune teller in your tealeaves, what is it saying? When will
I be dead? The level of threat has moved to another level.






Tessa V



Weekend readings, a million heads per second. I do the
writing, and so a few hundreds more. The gurkin inside
your oyster, making intention go blue and green. The sun
is what I call the architect. High shadows when looking be-
hind now. A glorious morning, I can just smell the coffee.

I am looking forward to a good saturday this weekend. Dis-
tance between us is a good thing. This lovelife is homeless,
without memory. Let's grow old more decently, talk when
having breakfast, or just be quiet. You know when they say
'a good life', I don't see it in your eyebrows. Oh, please, don't

smile... Sometimes I wonder why they left you, stunningly
beautiful when you were young. What can I say, my charitable
me is a DNA- thing or the Chuckle Brothers. One more thing,
what is it with this metaphor, when you are young with the sun
wrapped around your waist? I am just happy with my readings.

Asking too much from this emptiness, structure and language. Some
love nest between the eyes lies love in complete quietness and iso-
lation, a lonely planet in the distance. Not to want, or a complete loss
of time, or both. From your hips come a tight embrace, gilded in mad
desire from another side of what is life, transferred by frequencies.

Give up defences, dropping of humanities, pyramid of eternal longing
at midday sun, eyes or desolation. We travel on, held by the heels in poi-
son Ivy below, and fly. There is a night deformed by beauty and a living
memory, just keep quiet when you see it or feel it's meteorite burn.
******* back asking too much from a lonely hell?

Tessa V

Your talk is big when the axe has fallen. A cavalry blinded
by butterflies and empty eyes, never have seen a real vision.
My talk is small, low ineptitude, etude. I won't fly the skies,
empty or surging with endosperm. Tacit knowledge isn't that
hard for you, is it? Another name will descend in time, maybe

close enough to your century when I am gone and won't be
remembered through symphonies of your love. Human loving
from some other base unknown. Hacking in and out what was
destined for slaughter, which birthright? For less than a penny
to buy a prince or king, or strangeness coming from heaven.

Their talk is big, surprisingly. The hardest thing yet on earth,
was never a small thing for mankind. Easy firing shots, with-
out a warning sign language, I can feel your presence getting
hot again. What I have faced before is you, up close and dan-
gerous, and you know how I feel when unarmed. The end.  



Tessa VI

Trust or play simplicity, me or you. Eyes to uncover the deep,
dark mirrors. On account of many charges, this is extreme.
What is love to you? I see the barrel of a gun. The rabbit hole
is what you hate most. And I keep on trying, e.g. like this over-
bearing nerd. I am old, close to you. The pizza is turning cold.

Evenings are labelled, and your anger does not need any
more logs. In fact we have nothing in common, except when
it is bedtime and night matures inside your mind. Lightness of
fantasies, I can't stand it. Fork and knife feeling like a company
on the plate. One that you build, manage, and without me.

If you want the house, Citroen X, the e-motions, you will need
something beyond your own skin. Mediation through invest-
ments are stone and bricks to me. I rather be drunk all night.
Sometimes I wonder are you or are you not a general? I had
a simple dream yesterday, but now I am the jester. A smile...

Look at how amazing he is.
He really takes my breath away.
He is going to do great things, look at what he is already doing for the community.
Why is he with me?
You have nothing to offer him.
Nothing important.
He shines so brightly.
He's a hero.
How could you compete?
You aren't even on the same level as him.
He deserves someone better, someone as wonderful as he is.
You are so needy.
Look at yourself.
Melting and blushing and searching for praise.
This is why everyone else left.
You love too easily and too much.
You are worthless and ugly and slobbish and selfish.
Oh look, now you're crying too.
This happens every time Tessa, you always fall in this same hole.
Did you ever completely climb out?
Hang on a second.
Stop it.
You're overreacting.
How did things come to this?
He held you in his arms last night.
Voluntarily.
That has to mean something.
Calm down.
Stop it.
You are stronger than this.
He chose you, remember?
Stop talking to yourself.
Entertaining the voices in your head is how you mess things up.
Every time life becomes kind to you, you search for the faults.
Why should this be so impossible?
Why aren't you allowed to be happy for once?
You can do this.
You deserve this.
These are the thoughts he vowed to help you stop.
It's time to trust a little, and let him.
Open up.
You're shutting love out again.
You know if he were here, he would hug you sobbing
And tell you to
*please, just put down the knife.

Ellie's sailing down the river
Tessa's sitting by the lake
Four of us going separate ways on a hot summer day

Phil's driving up the mountains
Looking for a classic thrill coupled with a few spills
Four of us on our own adventures on a hot summer day

Captured in the psych ward 16


On the day of jeff paynter's psych review. Ron got up at 3 in the morning to try and figure out how he was going to do tips, he is always one to let the patient speak but all night he get texts explaining that he had violent outbursts which causes him to change his approach, no if he has anything to say that might help him be cured. Ron us in for that, but there is a lot of inappropriate language which can force the staff to postpone the review. So Ron searched the web especially YouTube and some great psychology websites and even read a bit of his old timer psychology papers and text books just to find some useful information, and Ron really wanted to help Jeff. Like he does for everyone and at 6 Ron had a shower and went to fran and dans and fran asked Ron how are you today and Ron said, I am doing great but I have this stupid psych test on a patient of mine and really this is looking weird, cause last night he had so many outbursts. I had to get up early to find out what the hell is wrong with him and Barry Allan said, well Ron
I think he has a lot of problems fitting into society and you need to make him understand that what he is doing is wrong, now, yeah it is hard for me to judge cause I hardly know him, but really you should try to get him to speak up about jest is really wrong with him and Ron said yeah mate yeah, jeff, yeah I know has something wrong him, but I am having a mighty hard time trying to point out what is wrong with him, like it could be schotzpgrenia or even bipolar or maybe multiple personalities but that is rare, all I can tell you guys that there is something wrong with him and after finishing his coffee and chinwag he went to the hospital and clocked in and as usual, the first thing he did was give out the morning medications to the HDU and then took their blood pressure and went in to talk to Bill to say that another member of staff will have to take you to TAFE today because I have to spend the day with Jeff, and bill said who will it be and Ron said well at the moment it looks like Tessa, but I will let you know when it happens and then Charlie came out to ask the nurses about leave to do a silent movie and jeff said. Why he **** should you get a job on a silent movie. You are so goofy and then Charlie do you know who I am and jeff said, no your not Charlie Chaplin, all you are is a insult to Charlie Chaplin fans and then jeff called him a big phoney and Charlie Chaplin threatened him with a I am going to bash you up, I am going to bash you up and suddenly Charlie and jeff were having a big punch up and Pete also became involved as well, Ron and a few nurses had to get into this fight and break it up and Ron took jeff away telling the nurse to make sure that bill gets to class at 10-30 and then took Jeff into his room and stayed there with him, to try and figure out jest is wrong and jeff said, you fucken doctors with your medical degrees don't know squat what I am dealing with and Ron said, ok I know I am getting paid for this. And to you I might look like I am helping you to pay the bills, but I am interested in what you have to say. And it stays in this room and Jeff then agreed to tell him the whole story of how a Catholic priest molested him as a child and that got him thinking that molesting kids was right. So then he went to shopping malls and chased every kid, making them very scared of me and then when I saw a kid waking with their parents showing their muscly white legs, I would go come here kid and if the kid came I would grab them and say I have you kidnapped you little rugrat, and then Ron asked, when you said I have you kidnapped, were you actually planning to actually kidnap this kid, or was that illness taking and jeff said, what the **** do you mean my illness, I ain't ill, I just take revenge on people who do harm to me Ron, it's called looking after yourself and Ron said yeah, but I am trylng to give a psych review cause there is something wrong with your brain, and with his hands in the air assuring that he just means he understands, you see to take our your anger on a poor innocent child
Is horrible just because it happened to you, now I know you are sick of the patients here like old blimie Charlie. But mate I can monitor you on medication and make you avoid jailtime and jeff said I don't know right, I don't know why I followed the kids around the mall, and I don't know why I grabbed one out in a public place, I just did it cause I did it and that is why I did it and Ron told Jeff, ok if you go to jail you could get bashed you see they bash people who do harm to kids in there, and if you do wrong things jeff, you have to realise that life stinks and it can be unfair but I am here to find out where are you going to go from here, you see if you stay here, we could get you leave to do courses at TAFE or rehabilitation courses so you don't reoffend, but you need to coopperate with me, I don't want to see you in jail for this. I am interested in letting you do a course, and yes we can help you get back on your feet, so how about I give you this paper and pen and you tell me what would you like to do and where you go from here, and tell us your future goals, be realistic though but don't be shy to say movie star, we can help you get through all this, but that will take time and Ron left Jeff in there and when it came to Jeff's psych review, well jeff was really organised, well he said yeah he believes in standing up for himself but doing it to a kid is wrong and he listed a whole lot of things but the main thing that Jeff wanted to do is learn a trade and he wanted an apprenticeship as a plumber, so Ron did some ringing around and found this plumber who is willing to have him, and he was professional and took him on two days a week, picking him up at the HDU and after having that organised Ron gave the nightly medication and then clocked off and went to the Chinese takeaway and sit in the park near the yarra river at 9-00 pm and Barry Allan came over with a longneck of beer and they spoke to each other and Ron said that he really has the knack for helping people find their feet as he told Barry everything about jeff except for his name, and
They were having great conversations as the yarra river continued to flow so peacefully in the back ground


Sent from my iPhone

Tessa Sofia
Lives alone.
Upset because she a subject of a beautiful poem.

Tessa all nested like a bird in a tree.
Seeking wings to fly and be free.
Sofia, lost and in despair.
Never been loved or even looked after.

Until someone touched her mind.
And touched her heart.
And he called her Tessa Sofia because he adored her.

Tessa I

It is not a laughing matter, watching life through bro-
ken glass and memory loss in an instant. "You did give
me that horse," death changes everything. Friday after-
noon, like any other day, only more wonderous after my
collapse. Why you kicked me in the head is making me

wonder about a sitcom, cruel and vengeful. Was it love,
Tessa? Or was it Coca- Cola, Miller Beer oats and flakes?
Revenge or consumption? You want my honesty, you are
hijacking Time. Give me something, inspire me, manage this
life you want. I am giving you the secret key to a new start.

The only thing I really ask for anymore is for someone to love me, is that too much to ask?
All I want is for someone to care about me for who I really am,
Someone that is kind, caring, attractive, understanding, and loyal.
I want to be able to give my love to someone so completely that my feelings for them are solid.
It seems that no matter how hard I try, how badly I want that, I still have to wait for longer than anyone should ever have to.  
I’ve been in this world for 18 years, but never has anyone ever loved me for the man that I am.
My heart feels such emotions that I don’t believe any other man has ever felt,
It longs achingly to share itself with someone.
I know that my future wife is out there somewhere,
And I can’t wait until I’m with her,
But that’s just the thing:  I can’t wait.
The emotions are starting to become unbearably painful
Every time another person that I care about leaves,
It becomes a little easier to justify why I should crawl back into my shell.
The funny thing is, everyone I ever care about ends up either leaving me or hurting me severely.
Some examples: My mom, dad, aunt, sister, Ruth, Paul, Scott, Jesse, Steven, Jordan, Chris, James, Rob, Kristen, Kim, Sam, Julie, Brandon, Chima, John, Tonya, Tessa, Mike, Cassie, Trevor, and so many more that I cannot name them all.
My first girlfriend, my only girlfriend, the only girl I ever truly loved, cheated on me and sacrificed me for the man she cheated on me with, casting me aside like I was nothing – the exact same way my mom did, twice.
It just goes to show that dreams never come true, no matter how hard you try, because I’ve been trying for 18 years for someone to love me for who I am, yet all people do is hate and scorn me.
Even if I’m doing better than I ever have before, all those who say they care about me focus on only the negatives, the things that I’m doing wrong because I don’t know how to do them and no one cares enough to hear any of my cries for help.
What is my purpose on this disgusting planet?
Why am I here?
Would it really make a difference if I never came to be?
I think the world would be a better place if I had never been, a lot of innocent people could have been spared a life full of pain and anguish similar to mine.
My entire existence is pain, and suffering;
Torment and anguish.
If I have a purpose in this world, there is no way it is to help anyone
Because no one cares enough to listen to me when I ask to help.
All of my words, all of my emotions, everything that has to do with me,
Is completely obsolete in the eyes of everyone else in this world.
The only purpose I could have, is to destroy the lives of as many people as possible while I am in this world.
I guess that means that I’m destined to go to hell.
Well the hell with destiny, I’m not going to follow that which I am destined to do,
At least not if it is to hurt as many people as I can.
I’m going to change my destiny and everything about it,
And I’m going to be heard no matter what!

What are you accomplishing Tessa?
Nothing, everyone
They say
what are you going to do?
I am going to write I say
Are you any good?
No I am the lousiest
I will go nowhere
You should try to do something
that will help you
progress
in the world
No I say
I am content I say
I am done pleasing you
I am not proud of you
they say
I sigh
Exhale another piece of gunk
from my lung
but I can finally breathe
I say
That is all that matters

Tessa III

"I believe in human rights," Chet Faker, I am trying to
find your softer side over Bose... Trying hard to forget the
ghastly scare you gave me. Smoking cigarettes and deleting
details I think you shouldn't get too deep into...
Underneath, when swimming, the story is getting more sad.

Explain to me about India, Kamasutra of many pages long,
why your part was left out. Many years have passed, dry blee-
ding the sun in shameful memories, I was on the other side.
Time is becoming a long stretch on the couch, if you remember
how you danced, exploring rhythm and ecstacy, when quietly...

I'll tell something about Joe
There's one thing he'll never outgrow
Entertaining his mates
With tales of new scrapes
He'll always put on a great show.

I have a great mate called Simon
Who refuses to put more weight on
He'll watch what he eats
Week after week
And soon he will look like Mike Tyson

I know a poet name Chris
Who will tend to think it remiss
If he can't get together
Some poetry matter
I guess it's one of his gfts

There is a young woman named Jenny
Whose skills and abilities are many.
She steps in when she's needed,
Expectations exceeded.
She's nothing short of uncanny.

There is a young man named Josh
Who's decided to make a big splosh.
Don't be facetious,
He's a follower of Jesus
And due for a thorough good wash.

There is a young lady named Kay
Who loved to go shopping all day
She'd keep looking around
Until a bargain she found
And no one dared get in her way.

There is a young lady named Anna
Who just can't stop smiling no matter.
She laughs everyday
With no sign of dismay
As her boys simply love her and hug her.

There was a young couple in Hanwell,
Whose love just couldn't be hid well.
They opened their home,
With never a moan
And ensured their friends were fed well.

There is a young man named Billy
Who can't help but laugh himself silly.
He sniggers and snorts
Gaffaws and contorts
Enough to make him feel dizzy.

There once was a magpie named Abi
Her friends would make her so happy
By leaving around
Shiny things to be found
Whether useful or a tiny bit tacky.

There is a dear lady named Betty
Who is always willing and ready
To sing and to dance
When she's given the chance
And never seems to get sweaty.

There is a young lady called Marsha
Who's German, so whenever you ask her
What type of food
Goes with all kinds of moods
She'll tell you it's a frankfurter.

There is a young pastor named Jason
When he studies his bible he's brazon
He praises and prays
By night and by day
His knees have serious abrasions.

There is a young woman named Amy
Who is more than a little bit brainy
She studies real hard
At home and abroad
But is also a little bit zany.

There is young lady named Tessa
Who loves a good meal and a blether
She studies God's word
Although she prefers
To do so with friends altogether.

I know a pastor named Pete
Whose day is never complete
Until he's concluded
Which quote to include in
His sermon due later that week.

I have a sister named Janet
Who has a wonderful habit
When you need a friend
You can be sure to depend
That she won't get into a panic.

I have a sister named Jenny
Who is always willing and ready
To offer a smile
While cooking with style
I can smell the results already.

I have a sister named Sally
It's hard to keep a clear tally
Of the number of times
She's cheerful and kind
It really makes you feel happy.

It was dark outside,
Loud rain drops tampered
on my window,
Smell of wet soil hit the air.

I was sitting in my window
and my mind swirled in
the fictional world.

I could see Harry on his broom,
And Will,  Tessa and Jem sitting
together.

Charlie was again writing his diary,
And Jane was reading a book.

Sherlock and Dr. Watson were chasing
a culprit
While avengers were saving the world.

Lucy with her siblings was
ruling the Narnia
While Fred and George were pranking
the other students.

I could see Alice wandering in wonderland,
And I could also see Naomi with the three musketeers arguing.

I could hear Grover playing his pipes,
And Percy and Annabeth were kissing.

Then the rain stopped abruptly,
Bringing me back to the real world,
Leaving me in a state of melancholy.

Tessa VI




Sunday morning, I wonder if you are happy. Smart happy,
or just happy. Ten days ago it was about my indiscretions, and
how you engineered the wife- thing up close and dangerous...
I have lost the bird in my hand, in exchange for the pyramids
of Egypt. I also wonder, did you go to church today? Not becau-

se of affection, but for confectionate reasons. Sprinkling here
and there your Bible- religion for the morning. I am not looking
back. We are in the new realities in Real Time, and tomorrow.
About the bird, she was my phoenix with scanty white polished
feathers. For subtlety we scored a very high heaven. The L-

word now lies between the sun and earth. I understand, you
need me and I need you, vision. Love at this stage of age can't
be coincidental, plain and simple. I wonder if you are happy this
morning, when looking at you through the wide window. It
could be telepathic, if life is smart between us. I answer...

Tessa II

If we could live in a grain of sand, and pick a place. Still
feeling a little unsettled, you or I? We should build that
grain of sand, together. I am listening to Blues Brothers, and
I don't know why. Perhaps trying to stop your pain and anguish,
gosh! I have never known Tessa II. A connotation like Ivan

the Terrible. Tell me the story, all of it. Before execution I need
to know the truth. In a civilized world it is integrity, your
weapon of choice. Not acting smart and uncool won't make
you last or lasting. It is purity of conscience. Connotation II,
Lady MacBeth? I have an ordinary life, you should manage that.

I know referencing Tessa Violet sounds cliche' but each day I get inspired to write poetry. The only reason why I am not ******* Tessa Violet because she is my friend and I know it sounds weird.
I enjoy my platonic relationships. I know not a huge surprise considering you know me Chelsie. I would rather be friends with my favorite musicians than you know do that.
Whatever Ken said about me isn't true. He hates everyone including liberal bisexuals who know what the hell they are talking about.
His puppy dog eyes aren't worth a damaged pen. I was repulsed by him and his political views. If I could turn back time I would have walked back into the SGA office instead of avoiding you.
Ken made it sound like you hated my guts and told me we were sisters. Even though being medicated and sane enough to vote, I can honestly say, "You could have just talked to me. I would have talked back to you." He gas-lighted me and lied to me for months. You never did any of that. Driving me insane is one thing but emotional abuse is another. There is a difference.