lend a hand?

I want to write. I want to get onto page the stories that form and the poems that scream to be heard, I want to articulate the feelings I feel and the thoughts that consume me like the horizon does the sun, I want you to understand what I’m trying to say but,

The words get lost as my fingers touch the keyboard. They’re screaming to be heard, to be read but the second I’m ready to pour onto the page,

It’s like sugar dissolving on your tongue, or like wind carried off on a leaf,

The second you go to grab it, to hold it,

It’s gone.

And it frustrates more than I can express to you. To know what I want to say, to know how I want to make you feel but to be so unable to do so.

But that’s what being human is, isn’t it?

The petty frustrations, the little annoyances, the tiny hindrances, blocking us from doing what we wanted to.


So, to my followers and/or readers I’m going to ask for a favour.

Please give me a word or a phrase or an idea to write on. Or give me a story to create.

Please, I want to write the way I know I can but without inspiration,

It’s like trying to catch that leaf in a gale.


I hope you can give me a hand,

Love, Hea xx

Growing up…

It was so simple when our biggest problems were who to be partners with in PE and our ‘rebelling’ was who could say a rude word louder in class and not get caught. Wasn’t it easy when you go to matron with a headache and you just got given paracetamol?

Now, we have exams and boys and girls and friends and losing them to worry about. Our problems range from being late to class and getting signed in for it, to losing all sight of ourselves and who we should be and want to be because we want so badly to be liked or even just known. Rebelling is doing shots of vodka though it burns like hell and smoking even though you hate the taste it leaves in your mouth. Now if you go to matron with a headache you get grilled on your mental health and your exercise and

Could I not just have a headache?

Growing up is fun. Being a teenager is one of the best feelings because everything you feel you feel so intensely that it consumes you. When you’re happy it’s like the air is lighter and everything feels like it flows,

But all the feelings like anger, jealousy, pain, hurt, heartbreak and anything in between

It stings. Like a bitch.

Don’t weigh everything on this one time in your life. The things you feel so intensely will hardly be memories in years to come. Don’t lose lifelong friends over relationships and most of all,

Just do whatever makes the air lighter.

Love, Hea xxx

to be yourself…

How difficult it is. To be yourself. To accept the skin that you’re given.

How tiring it is. To be yourself. To give others the ability to get under the skin that you were given.

How daunting it is. To be yourself. To wear with pride the skin that you were given.

How beautiful it is. To be yourself. To relax into the skin that you’re given.


It’s dangerous, is it not? To be vulnerable, to let the leather wear down and the soft flesh show. To give someone the flint to sharpen the blade which could cut.

It’s terrifying isn’t it? Your bare skin laid open like a map to your heart, letting someone use echolocation with the crack of your voice as slat water wells in your eyes.

It’s thrilling isn’t it? the way it’s someone else seeing the parts only the mirror had. The way your breath itself is enough for them to understand every word you hadn’t said.

It’s beautiful, is it not? To feel with someone that despite you having given them Excalibur, the ability to cut you down like corn in a field,

Instead they rub balm on the wounds that were already there.

So it’s valentines day tomorrow and although some of y’all are in love and happy-

there are a fair few of us who are less so.

so, instead of having someone to love,

I write about it-



And she was. Not in how she looked. Not in how she sang. But in who she was. The way her mind worked and calculated, the cogs that turned there whirred faster than her fingers tap, tap, tapping at the desk because her thoughts they work too fast to stay inside her and


And he was. Not in how he was. Not in how he looked. But in how he sang. The way each note rang out like the cleanest chime of a bell on a clear summer’s day. The way the emotion was thick in every syllable that left his mouth.


And they were. Not in how they sang. Not in how they were. But in how they looked, how they looked at each other. The way each one seemed so deeply immersed in the others’ eyes, like all that ever was or would, or could, be with tattooed in the iris of the other and

It’s beautiful.

The way they fit together, not even like two pieces of a puzzle, but like magnets, as though it was physics bringing them together,

And how can you deny science?


Love, Hea xxx

Stressing about stressing?

So this week I have exams and, well, I call them exams when in reality they’re just time fillers for our exam hall- they aren’t the most relevant of things. Anyways, plenty of my friends go into each exam with genuine horror painted across their features and either finish with their wrinkles smooth 

Or they just look confused.

And the thing is, I know what it is to stress. Trust me, I do. Not getting into it but by God do I get it,

But the thing is worry doesn’t change a situation.

Thinking ‘what if’ doesn’t effect reality.

Losing sleep about being tired isn’t refreshing

Biting your nails about breaking a habit is hardly effective

And stressing about stressing is like slapping yourself in the face and being surprised by the sting.

but I stress about everything. About what I’ve said, about how it came out, about what he or she is thinking of me about how my lesson will go, about how my hair looks from the back, about whether my struggling friend will be ok, about whether my family will, every phone call I get I’m expecting bad news and

Dear lord, it’s exhausting.

I overthink about overthinking and

It’s just draining.

I’m trying to train myself by the mantra ‘que sera sera’ which is French for ‘what will be, will be. If someone’s formed their opinion and it’s negative then they’re not worth my time changing it. Once somethings left my mouth or I’ve sent the text, the fact is it’s done and stressing about it won’t change that. 

Self care isn’t all glamorous, baths and face masks and candles.

It can be letting yourself get so worked up your just need a hug

But you gotta remember

These thoughts? The ones that stop you from sleeping? They’re just thoughts.

Thoughts in no way reflect reality.

Please don’t forget that

Love, Hea xxx

When you need to be no one else, who do you let yourself be?

We wear our masks, don’t we? The ones we want to wear. for the person we’re with, a slightly different smile, a different gleam in the eye. It’s so simple isn’t it? Us humans, creatures of habit, we get so used to becoming whoever we feel we should be. We’re glorified chameleons just with a bigger level of self awareness.

We’re 101 people, all shoved into a body but the real question is-

When the night dawns and darkness creeps in, spilling onto the floor of your bedroom-

When the shadows lurk beyond your closed curtains and seep slowly spilling inside-

When your mind lists off all the things wrong with you and making you question all you’ve done-

Who are you then?

Are you who you are with him? Satirical, confident, in control.

Are you who you are with her? Light, breezy, simple.

Are you who you are with them? Raw, open, honest?

Who are you when you have no one else to be?

‘You don’t need to see the sunset

To feel the warmth of it’s colours’


Do you need to know yourself, to feel how warm you could be?

Do you need to understand your mind, for it to ever grow?

How simple it is. To become who we need to be, who we should be.

How simple it is to be a chameleon.

But who are you when there’s no background to blend into?

Love, Hea xxx


Kindness costs nothing. It doesn’t make your life worse. It doesn’t hurt or offend or ruin anything-

But it makes the world brighter.

There’s so much hate in this world. Terrorism, starvation, a sexist Wotsit in charge of nuclear missiles- yes, there’s dark

But we can make it light.

I wear this wristband. It’s blue and looks like nothing and I couldn’t tell you where it’s from but it’s blue and sweet and has little pink writing and whenever I look down I see ‘Today’s Random Act Of Kindness?’

And we should all have that. A reminder to do a small little something. It’s clinically proven that the one of the most effective forms of conditioning is by making yourself do something once daily basis, it becomes natural, almost necessary, for day to day life.

Look, let’s be real. We all love compliments. The most modest of us less so, but all of us can appreciate a heartfelt compliment or show of interest or something small like, if someone drops something, picking it up. If someone looks down, offer a smile.

Be the person you’d want to know.

Because who would you be hurting? Kindness is free, it’s easy, it should be as natural as breathing

Yet so many of us overlook it and opt for the cheap shot or degrading others, which ultimately degrades ourselves and

Uh I find it so frustrating. Message someone saying they looked nice, or just say hi. Offer to carry someone’s things for them if they’re struggling. 

But don’t forget to be kind to yourself.

‘The first rule of kindness is being kind to yourself’

Please, make someone’s world a little brighter,

And it’s allowed to be your own,

Love, Hea xx