Jasmine’s Personal Musings
I flirt with the herbal smoke / And Allah burns in the distance / A sacrifice of meat and wool / Take toubab as an offering / The head is shaved / It knows not the god ‘cept t
‘I’m stupid about executions.’ Sylvia Plath, ‘The Bell Jar’ I’m haunted by Sylvia Plath. Why does Lachlan imagine I’ll write a book like ‘The Bell Jar’?
“I wrote those [short] stories because I was possessed by them and wanted to exorcise them from my system… Isn’t creative writing all about being possessed, seized, obsessed?
My Voice Hello. My name is Jasmine. I first went mad in Africa in 2004. Since then, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve gone mad. My madness got so bad it culminated
In this moment, I end involuntary treatment. I’m no longer compelled to treat a mental illness I never believed in anyway. But I sought healing, nonetheless. For now, I stop
In this moment, I’m in a good space. I feel peaceful, relaxed, and content. I listen to my body. I notice I’m thirsty, so I drink a glass of water. The water replaces m
When will my writing speak? Alone in the forest, as empty as the trees are full. Birds circle around me, drawing me in. I’m breath on the wind. I’m all the things you ever
I stand at a crossroad in the forest. I am on sodden ground. The decay has set in. How can a man marry such sunken existence? How can he care about this life not lived? Dew beads r
First I think a thought. It is a shadow at dusk. Rarely is it the sun’s clear light. So I write the shadow. I put a full stop. I sit and wait for light. Nothing. I am used to not
I do not know myself. This bone house acts without thinking, like a chicken running with its head cut off. I brandish my sword, stab others, and feel remorse. I do not learn from m
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