Monday, October 31, 2016

¥☯☋ @☈☰ ♭☰@☋☨ί∱☋ᒪ


🎵🎼
🎵.•*¨*•
🎵♫•¨*•.¸¸¸.•*¨*•♪you ♫•¨*•.¸¸¸.•*¨*•
🎵 ¨*•♪ ♫•*¨*•.¸¸¸.•**¨*•.¸¸¸.•*¨*•
🎵♫•¨*•.¸¸¸.•*¨*•♪are ¨*•
🎵 ¨*•♪beauty ♫•*¨¨*•♪.•*¨*•
🎵♫•¨*•.¸¸¸.•*¨*•♪full ♫•*¨*•.¸¸¸.•*¨*•♪♫•*
🎵🎼




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NHS - a Blob Tree BOOK of communication Tools about the HEALTH Services.






CLICK HERE FOR PREVIEW / FURTHER DETAILS




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I wont give up. Because you are in my heart.







ABOUT
her sister



PROMISE 
The days go by so slow. 
Never ending. 
Never sharing. 
Never trusting.
The road you travel, can be Your friend and enemy.
You just got to take a chance. 
And jump.
Wait and see for what happense, won't help you.
You just have to help, and make Things happen yourself.
And let People around you, that care about you, in. 
Before its too late. 
You can do anything, as long as you believe in yourself.
And People around you believe in you. 
Nothing can stop you, except yourself. 
You thought me that. 
I love you and miss you a lot
You are one of the strongest persons I knew.
And I am going to keep my promise. 
I wont give up.
Because you are in my heart.

Like we used to say and the last thing I said to you: 
LolololololololololololololovlovlovlovlovlovlovlovloveloveloveLOVE  

By Alise Ellevset to Stine Røøyen Ellevset




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We can see a persons behaviour but we can't see their journey ............

Sunday, October 30, 2016

"you don't like anyone touching you but you are up for a massage?".................. "Well - you are Pip"





My life has been different
It is always different
but this is different.

I have been on unfocused lock-down
I am in drift
finished with the antibiotics
but not the cough
I do things without my two key words
strategic and priority

I have been clearing the decks
finding bits all over the place
(All over the place - that's my head at the moment)

I find lots of bits of paper with
thoughts
feelings
notes to self
2 do's

One today
"touching humans"
about how I touch humans
some warm
some stiff
some rigid
some recoil
some "I love a massage"

One young beautiful human
used to be stiff rigid recoil
but now she says
"You have not massaged me today"
(I only do a one minute job 
as humans sit at their desks)
"How come?" (Pip speak), 

"you don't like anyone touching you 

but you are up for a massage?"
"Well - you are Pip"

Nice that init?


Skin Hunger
I believe in
We would rather be slapped than ignored
I Love touching finger tips with you
Love the freedom
 

AND when it's right -
to hug


Reach out and touch ..................


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Saturday, October 29, 2016

Your wound .......

What does it mean to be a man ?

Don't miss out on upcoming November events
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What does it mean to be a man?

We're tackling everything from fitness to fatherhood, depression, violence, lad culture and James Bond.
Join us at this year's Being A Man festival, where we'll be celebrating boys and men, as we explore the pressures of masculine identity in the 21st century. 

Friday, October 28, 2016

Son & Father challenge.



 

Men of his dad's generation 
are afraid to talk about their feelings 
in case they are seen as "weak"

A son suffering from depression. 


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JOBS - VACANCIES NATION-WIDE TO SPREAD AROUND TO REACH THOSE IN NEED




LATEST VACANCIES



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She'll try To take Break me /She knows me /My little weak head /At the end of every beautiful thought /She'll smash it with a distortion






I caught a programme late on TV called
'Cut-up kids'
about young humans
about self harm.

I have learned a lot from young humans regarding this
I have journeyed through with them
some savage
some silently secret.

There is a massive issue in how it all connects with emotions.
It one of my major interests and drives
how to understand the impact of the interior life
how it impacts on the exterior behaviour.
Saying "Just pull yourself together"
is not only not good enough
it is insensitive and oppressive.

There is a real inner 'emotional deprivation' here
which creates some massive
lack of self esteem
and lack of confidence.

Here is a poem written by a beautiful young human.
She read it out at a group work session I was leading
the discussion that followed was 'electric' .................




ANNA
=====

She'll try
To take
Break
me
She knows me
My little weak head
At the end of every beautiful thought
She'll smash it with a
distortion
One I dread
And smothered
I'll fight
I'll fight
In circles I run
Till I'm twisted and lost in her games
Her fun
And to ignore she
Her anger bleeds
And feeds
Me
To
See and feel me
Till I walk in peace
But for how long?
I wish a day or two
But you
You
Won't let me be
Won't let me love
Or love me
And maybe
Because they
Them
In their greed
Didn't
And couldn't love me
You did
You did
For a while
Nursed me from every wound
Every tear
Bounced back from black rejection
But
Here now
I've outgrown you
Friend
Bitch
Anna
Trend
Who you are
I don't know
Just leave
Me
Please please
Let me go
Go GROW Go


About a person - a story from the heart .......








"When we tell stories,
we touch hearts.
If we talk about theories
and speak about ideas,
the mind may assimilate them
but the heart remains untouched.
It is the story of a specific person
that is the way to the heart."



Jean Vanier



Thursday, October 27, 2016

Trump refuses .................

POEM:: So had nothing handed/ Took nothing for granted/ Took nothing from no man /At the age of ten I had to be my own man





This is a most powerful poem.

It was read by the author
On a week-end training event
which I facilitated.

About his life.
It stunned everyone in the group
It opened us up like flowers to the sun::







Picture a child filled full of feelings unable to fathom
Being treated like a social leper and as invisible as a phantom.



Let me start the years 1995 when my freedom was supposed to be written
But being invisible on the roads in my home my freedom weren’t given
So had nothing handed
Took nothing for granted
Took nothing from no man 
At the age of ten I had to be my own man



So when freedom weren’t given I had to take it
Moms favourite vase because I starved for attention I had to brake it
But my life relating something like a playground
A load of round and rounds 
A lot of messing around
Craving for the foundation to keep my feet firmly on the ground
And smiles seen as expensive luxuries so it’s cheaper to wear a frown



From curried chicken and homemade macaroni and cheese cooking in moms kitchen
Always being told not to be no one’s slave the times are over for cotton picking
A life without god so bibles weren’t anywhere to be found
Always getting the belt, shoe anything she could get her hand around
Just for play fighting with my siblings and one of us was loud



I got shouting instead of a kiss and a cuddle
I simply feared saying something wrong so I just stared and mumbled
But that was just the methods of a heartbroken mother
All because of my cheating father
We thought we were bad but it was simply because being faithful why couldn't he be bothered
So after him getting kicked out by mama
Instead of him getting all the consequences we got the drama



The saying goes what goes around comes around so why did It seem like I always got the karma
Maybe she wanted to see me go mad but why me
Could it be I behaved just like my daddy



The life of a single mother bringing up three boys must have been cold
Lonely because none of the hopeless dads got involved
Just left her with three boys and expected her to cope all on her own
When I saw how strong mom was I had no reason to moan
She had a well paid job raised three guys on her own



But at the age of 14 I changed I yearned for articulation
Truly believing I was designed for sophistication
Suit to suit long winded conversation
Not to be used as a mere tool to get money from my dad “moms way of manipulation”



The madness was surreal and often lead to frustration
Simple stuff like playing basketball felt like a vacation
It was only then when I felt some sort of relation
That’s why I’m undefeated and to beat someone effortless regulation
No matter what situation
This was my freedom this was my emancipation
Just like when America signed the independence proclamation



Benefits of being invisible no one sees you so there’s no conversation because no one’s looking
My dad weren't one of my hero’s
But he was cooler than seven sub zeros
He showed me the art of cooking
But it was my mother when my grades slipped that gave me the ass whooping
But I knew It was her way of saying i was loved
whether from my mum, my Nana, or my grandpa joyfully watching from above



When it came to the age of seventeen there were girlfriends
My poor heart was never on the mend
How many times I thought it was meant to be
Thinking that I could once be L.O.V.E.D
Well at least be in L.O.V.E
But sooner turned like an unripe apple being taken to early off a tree
Just like my childhood which brought along more misery
Now tell me a person’s childhood is as happy as can be
And I’ll show you no matter sibling or in a relationship LOVE weren’t meant for me



But never the less
After being made homeless
And had suffered so much stress
I found the YMCA
Although my first perception of it was gay



But then realising they were helping to change these
Generation of babies
who ended up in there because of abuse, drugs, or even because their parents were lazy



Always being told they love me loads
I’m so glad now I got involved
So now I can truly say behold
A once invisible child stands before you both brave and bold
They gave me the ball and showed me the goal
Slam dunk! 



Thanks YMCA for taking me out of that alluded zone
For a love you have shown I would never have known
And within Christ I would never have grown
So tell the world YMCA makes adults out of lost children
Thanks YMCA, Leon, Evan, Jim, all of you for listening and especially Pip Wilson.  
Thank you

Matt


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POEM:: So had nothing handed Took nothing for granted Took nothing from no man At the age of ten I had to be my own man





This is a most powerful poem.
It was read by the author

On a week-end training event
which I facilitated.
About his life.
It stunned everyone in the group
It opened us up like flowers to the sun::





Picture a child filled full of feelings unable to fathom
Being treated like a social leper and as invisible as a phantom.

Let me start the years 1995 when my freedom was supposed to be written
But being invisible on the roads in my home my freedom weren’t given
So had nothing handed
Took nothing for granted
Took nothing from no man 
At the age of ten I had to be my own man

So when freedom weren’t given I had to take it
Moms favourite vase because I starved for attention I had to brake it
But my life relating something like a playground
A load of round and rounds 
A lot of messing around
Craving for the foundation to keep my feet firmly on the ground
And smiles seen as expensive luxuries so it’s cheaper to wear a frown

From curried chicken and homemade macaroni and cheese cooking in moms kitchen
Always being told not to be no one’s slave the times are over for cotton picking
A life without god so bibles weren’t anywhere to be found
Always getting the belt, shoe anything she could get her hand around
Just for play fighting with my siblings and one of us was loud

I got shouting instead of a kiss and a cuddle
I simply feared saying something wrong so I just stared and mumbled
But that was just the methods of a heartbroken mother
All because of my cheating father
We thought we were bad but it was simply because being faithful why couldn't he be bothered
So after him getting kicked out by mama
Instead of him getting all the consequences we got the drama

The saying goes what goes around comes around so why did It seem like I always got the karma
Maybe she wanted to see me go mad but why me
Could it be I behaved just like my daddy

The life of a single mother bringing up three boys must have been cold
Lonely because none of the hopeless dads got involved
Just left her with three boys and expected her to cope all on her own
When I saw how strong mom was I had no reason to moan
She had a well paid job raised three guys on her own

But at the age of 14 I changed I yearned for articulation
Truly believing I was designed for sophistication
Suit to suit long winded conversation
Not to be used as a mere tool to get money from my dad “moms way of manipulation”

The madness was surreal and often lead to frustration
Simple stuff like playing basketball felt like a vacation
It was only then when I felt some sort of relation
That’s why I’m undefeated and to beat someone effortless regulation
No matter what situation
This was my freedom this was my emancipation
Just like when America signed the independence proclamation

Benefits of being invisible no one sees you so there’s no conversation because no one’s looking
My dad weren't one of my hero’s
But he was cooler than seven sub zeros
He showed me the art of cooking
But it was my mother when my grades slipped that gave me the ass whooping
But I knew It was her way of saying i was loved
whether from my mum, my Nana, or my grandpa joyfully watching from above

When it came to the age of seventeen there were girlfriends
My poor heart was never on the mend
How many times I thought it was meant to be
Thinking that I could once be L.O.V.E.D
Well at least be in L.O.V.E
But sooner turned like an unripe apple being taken to early off a tree
Just like my childhood which brought along more misery
Now tell me a person’s childhood is as happy as can be
And I’ll show you no matter sibling or in a relationship LOVE weren’t meant for me

But never the less
After being made homeless
And had suffered so much stress
I found the YMCA
Although my first perception of it was gay

But then realising they were helping to change these
Generation of babies
who ended up in there because of abuse, drugs, or even because their parents were lazy

Always being told they love me loads
I’m so glad now I got involved
So now I can truly say behold
A once invisible child stands before you both brave and bold
They gave me the ball and showed me the goal
Slam dunk! 

Thanks YMCA for taking me out of that alluded zone
For a love you have shown I would never have known
And within Christ I would never have grown
So tell the world YMCA makes adults out of lost children
Thanks YMCA, Leon, Evan, Jim, all of you for listening and especially Pip Wilson.  
Thank you

Matt


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Wednesday, October 26, 2016

Touching UNIQUE finger tips .....


I have leaned so much conducting Group-Work in Hostels in London Day-after-day Night-after-night ......




I have leaned so much
conducting Group-Work
in Hostels in London
Day-after-day
Night-after-night
with various groups.

Not all Young people.
Not all only homeless
Not all only drug dependent 
Not all with mental heath struggles
Not all out-of-prison
Not all out-of-care

Donuts
a method of enticing people to attend
then relaxing
dunking donuts in chocolate
then a developmental session
SCHEDULED for one hour
but often drifting into many more
especially the late night ones.

Late nights/all nights can be the most difficult when you are living in a hostel ......


Here is a poem composed by one young BEAUTIFUL human.


SUGAR HOOPED WEEKS 

People seem to forget 
Or 
Chose to erase 
Those 
Those sugar battered priceless days 
That you 
So excitedly give 
Pumped with familiar phrases 
Which would 
Exhilarate if they felt 
Whilst others would scorn 
My sweet 
You 
Sit and wonder 
Why their fuck off phrases 
Continue 
To meet 
And dampen the torment 
The fear 
That maybe you 
My friend 
Maybe you once felt 

I once did wonder 
If I could give 
If I could touch 
That trembling hand 
That unheard heart 
That let alone 
I do 
And in them 
And these 
Sugar hooped weeks 
You 
My friend 
Beneath the spangled words I taketh 
Are 
Simply beautiful too! 

By Charlie 




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