The Truth About Disney.

 "Dig a little deeper. Think of something that we’ve never thought of before” – Winnie the Pooh.

So I took Winnie’s advice and I’m shocked to say, I think that he was trying to tell us something. Winnie the Pooh gave out a cry for help and we all ignored it, thinking he was just being a funny little, somewhat philosophical bear!

Everyone loves a good Disney film, is there anything better (unless that is you have a social life) than snuggling up in a blanket with food and watching ‘ The Lion King’? For me, no. But when you really think about it, when you read between the lines of our much loved Disney films, the truth spills out. The truth needless to say is not pretty!

Today’s society is constantly moaning about ‘our future generation',  they worry about what will become of our world because of today’s children.

Hold on just a minute! Times are changing and so should expectations.

So don’t tell us to grow up or behave! Peter Pan didn’t have to!

As a child I saw Tarzan running around practically naked, Cinderella sneaking in - from a party she wasn’t allowed to go to - after midnight, Snow White left home to live in a house with seven men, Flick picked a fight with the biggest bugs in town, Aladdin was a thief, Pinocchio lied all the time, Ariel made a deal with ‘ the devil’, Alice ate magic mushrooms and drank from a mystery bottle whilst her Caterpillar friend smoked a shisha pipe and on top of all of that, a stranger kissed Sleeping Beauty and she married him!

Do you see what Winnie the Pooh meant now? Don’t blame us for doing reckless things, we were taught to rebel from a young age.

After all, “Children have got to be free to lead their own lives. ”  –  Sebastian the Lobster.

Evolution of the Imagination.

"Everything you can imagine is real.” ― Pablo Picasso

What would we be without an imagination? Something to take us away from this world full of pain, insecurities and what society defines as ‘acceptance’. How could we live without the creations of the imaginative? A world without Shakespeare, Einstein and Picasso seems to me, somewhat bleak and un-interesting. A world without imagination is like a melody without a song, a bird without flight or a cure without an illness. All of these things seem pointless in retrospect.

I know this seems like a long shot, but at night my mind begins to wonder about the ‘what if’s’ and the ‘imagine that’s’ of life. In the darkness and silence of the night I am left alone and forced to respond to my imaginative, if not slightly psychotic, theories.

What if there was life on other planets? Or even living in the shadows alongside us? I’m not saying the kind of creatures from men in black, but what if we are coexisting with some other form of life and we don’t even know it? Mold on a rock could contain life that has the capability to evolve just as we have.

Imagine if animals really do have a language of their own, which can be understood by some humans. And wouldn’t it be amazing if places like Oz and Wonderland really did exist?

When I was a child, my friends and I used to play a game. We would pretend to be Barbie dolls and the school playground was just one big, toy house. This got me thinking, what if the human race are simply pawns in someone else’s game? What if we are just toys that are played with and disposed of when we get old and the newest editions are available? Imagine that! It would certainly explain the purpose of life and death.

All of my silly little thoughts manifest in to one big, really idiotic thought. However, without imagination life wouldn’t be what it is today. Some of the greatest inventors would not have been inspired to create, scientists wouldn’t have been determined to explore and because of this the future would not be something many of us look forward to.

Our minds were created with the function to imagine. After all, an insane man’s doings are a sane man’s thoughts.

Short Story: Aged 13 - When Mum went to hospital.

This is a piece that I submitted for my creative CV assignment, enjoy.

 

 

                                    Aged 13: When Mum went to hospital.

I’ve never liked hospitals. The sharp, metallic smell of chemicals and medicines that float through each and every corridor, the off white walls and out of date magazines with crinkled, ripped pages. And now, I really don’t like hospitals because this one is keeping my Mother captive, like a prisoner, hooked up to machines with wires and electronic pads.

She’s just lying in the bed looking so calm and at peace. The crisp linen is folded neatly around her, just how beds in hotels are turned down. But this is no hotel or vacation at a luxury spa, my Mother isn’t here through choice.

I feel sick because I know how much she is hurting, the pain numbed by sedatives. Her face is drained of all colour, so pale that she looks transparent. I want to get up and run away, leave this place and never look back because this woman is not my Mum. My Mum is bright, bubbly and full of life, this person is frail and motionless with dark brown rings circling her eyes, her arms patterned with deep purple bruises.

They’ve brought her a plate of hospital food, something that resembles a kind of broth with a bread roll and a little pot of Greek yoghurt. Not like she can eat it anyway, do they just like adding insult to injury?

Her eyes flutter open and she smiles at me, shifting ever so slightly in the bed. She’s so ill, I can barely stand it. They’ve found tumours in her stomach, which are believed to contain cancer cells. Not only that, she’s anaemic and only has half the amount of blood that she should have in her body. Seven transfusions later and here she lies looking the best she has in weeks, and she looks truly awful.

She leans over to me and takes my hand in hers. Her fingers are cool and gentle, but her hands look so weak and fragile. I’ve missed her reassuring touch; she squeezes gently on my palm. It feels as though a bolt of lightning has plummeted through my chest cavity and straight in to my heart, and in this moment of weakness a solitary tear rolls down my cheek.

A nurse walks in to the room and abruptly rings a bell, the kind they used to have in primary school to tell you play time was over. No length of visiting hours could ever be long enough, I don’t ever want to leave her side. I guess I’ll be back tomorrow, six until seven-thirty.

4am thoughts...

Sometimes in life the things that create us are the things that once broke us, and those who destroy us are really those who make us.

Sometimes your judgement will be clouded by sheer idiocy, love...lust?

Sometimes you will be alone, even in a room full of smiling faces because smiles can just be for show.

Sometimes things will hurt.

Sometimes you will have to feel.

But feeling lets you know you are alive! And when you die, at least you will know you have lived.