Misjudgement and Hurtful Friendship. Socialism should never tell you to be silent by Tiffany Belle Harper

In life I believe we all may go through a metamorphosis, where unnatural circumstances can change our approach to many things. And these last months I have felt a great deal of inner turmoil and change, because I was not in control of events. And during such, often feeling despair, we delve into our core values, and we may turn to learn, research, contemplate. And nobody really knows how even the smallest of pitfalls can affect our mental health,when under duress. 

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I am not of any political firm belief. I have always remained free in my thoughts, believing it is about individuals, as opposed to an entire party, for which will always be divided in one way or another. And when I say I am a socialist, I perceive this to be an acceptance of many aspects of a person. I myself have never wanted to be of huge wealth, particularly not a kept woman, in search of a comfort blanket. Love is more than that to me. I lead a humble life. I thrive in one room, and I am surrounded by sentiment and a sense of self nurtured ambience. Yeh, I enjoy good food, a nice meal out – but even that may become taken for granted if becoming too much of a thing. There’s nothing more romantic than baking at home.

To me socialism should mean equality in that we share in ways where no other person feels helpless. It does not mean that a person should NOT be successful. That’s just ridiculous. We should want the best possible life for our children and encourage them to be their greatest self. Because life is pretty miserable in the confinements of mainstream media and bleak daily news, which can all too often over throw our own change of self contentment and higher survival. Just look at some of the crap out there and work on how much better you can do than the vapid system often dictates.

I don’t like the word ‘asylum’ it is a demining word. I am in favour of ‘settler.’ I grew up in Birmingham, have lived in Leeds and then turned to Blackpool, and during these times did not reside in any affluent suburbs. I was in with the community. And I thrive with people who have a story to tell. Who have experienced suffering. And great people are international beings that may land in any country to bring their best to that table. But these are my personal experiences. And how can I expect anyone to know about my journey or ‘me theirs.’ We cannot judge a person or their views by their social presence alone. That’s biased and prejudice. It is true, we think people know us, but they are quick to turn their backs, despite the fact they’ve never walked in your shoes. So choose your friends wisely, because, ego won’t piss on a fire.

To put people in small boats in perilous conditions and send them away, where these souls sincerely believe they are on route to find a new and better life, is just cruel. And we don’t know who is crossing our borders. Yes, we do need our professionals to support the work force in the UK and everywhere else. Migration does need to flow without division and harm. But what we don’t need is for innocent people (to include children) drowning in the ocean and of heat exhaustion in the back of lorries, at the hands of people smugglers. And if this opinion offends those, who I have in the past looked up to and supported. Where I am often ignored and shunned despite making great efforts. You are not worth it anyway. I come from an okay place, and I am entitled to my opinion. One of which I may add, is sincere and my basic human right. I don’t get paid or applauded, I dig for pennies just like most other working-class people.

I am very proud that I am what I have earned myself and do not expect any type of support regarding finance. Since I honour my liberated outlook to all women who want to be in the workplace. Love is about sharing, giving and offering mental support. And most of all to trust one another. 

Freedom of speech is not to all agree – it is to debate and have empathy. It is to live alongside one another regardless of differing views and opinions. To have meaningful discussions is healthy and can be hugely passionate. I would never dream of telling me sons about how to think. I learn from them, and I enjoy they are free spirited thinkers. We should use our social platforms, blogs and any other means of our privileges for use of self-expression, particularly during the difficult times in our lives. Because when we feel silenced, we become soulless. This is wrong, since our spirit to communicate is our very essence of being in a free society. 

You must walk a hundred steps in the shoes of another before you make hurtful assumptions, because some people are more sensitive than others. We all have a place in our societies. 

I have realised how precious our privacy is. When you lose it at the hands of injust and invasive criminal activity (in my case from a stalker with money) you also lose your dignity and trust in the good things. And it’s a cold place to live. 

I recently had time with a counsellor, since I have not been in a good mindset, due to the months of physiologic abuse, which no being is born to cope with. And part of my recovery was to go back to the places that triggered bad memories. One of which was Twitter (since that is where the hate campaign kicked off ten years ago.) I am proud I was able to have the courage to be myself and tweet as though nobody was watching. It has been a good healing process.

The other is to ‘live like nobody is watching.’ Since if you are constantly aware of a predator they have won. I am yet to get around that one, but I am trying. the loss of my cat for which he vanished. I don’t expect any person to grasp how my heart is broken. I just have to deal with it. There’s people worst off but it’s fair to say. I am feeling sorry for myself. Fine. I have to get better, I have two kids and a few pets that need me.

As for my book, it’s just an account of my own journey and who inspired me along the way.

Be Kind


rainy afternoon – busy

I love it when I can have time with my immediate surroundings. And when I think about it, I don’t need much. Social Media always leaves me feeling detached and frustrated, as apart from sourcing, networking, and staying close to distant mates and family, it can also start to make us less connected with who we really are.

I like to think that if I form a bond with a human, it could be similar to real life, and it’s not just a means to gain front house popularity. It’s not like when we go to heaven then get asked by the door keepers, ‘so, how many Twitter followers did you get? Or, how much money did you stack up?’ Karmically the universe sees everything anyway. So, what will be, simply is. We are only ever our true intention. And living with a free conscience is true wealth.

We all make mistakes but taking account for our own destiny and purpose is nobody else’s responsibility. Everyone has stuff going on, both good and bad. But some are much worse off than others. It is not so much luck, but who we have around us. Our Tribe. The people who really do help each other through the mess. Sometimes, just by being a listening ear or a hug. Sharing a fag or grabbing a bag of chips to scoff in the park.

With mental illness there is a thin line between being prepared and reaching out for a frame network. And the internet can become a fine line of confusion, since, as much as being a means to share great things, it can equally become a bow and arrow for keyboard warrior’s and those who know how to inflict a precise and calculated hate campaign. Often targeting a seemingly lone person, with the intention and purpose to make that target feel as vulnerable and detached as possible. Various means to this route could range from a desire for fame, money and an/or an ample amount of free time to plan such acts of spite. Either way such calculations derive from the perpetrators own sense of worth and often they turn to the web to push that onto those they envy most. Often a person who lives quite happily without the need of validation from strangers, all day, every day. A vicious cycle.

Either way, the older I get, the more it all jumps out at me. Saddened by the fact there are those that seek drama by means of (cowardly and indirect) disruption when it is so unnecessary. I myself have at times become very low, but after counselling or just speaking with a friend, it becomes apparent I am simply processing how life events have made me feel. Mentally I would describe myself as strong. I know this, as when I am under enormous pressure my adrenalin kicks in. Especially if someone I love is being hurt or bullied. Worse still, if someone I love is being a bully.

I have however, gone on to make real life friends as a result of the internet. And have sourced crafts and trades this way too. But then there are a small majority that offset the positive by creating a simultaneously ‘fake existence’ online. One of which takes residence over their own ‘real life’ world. The broad term ‘stalking’ covers much of above. And can overspill to the target’s friends and family also being scrutinized. And in some cases, books and scripts are created using the base line of the stalker’s often misguided assumptions. Financial wealth is awarded to the prowler. But guess what. The target remains richer in terms of balance and abundance.

That’s why, it is imperative to think above and beyond small minded cycles that serve no purpose to our origin and purpose. That said mental health is a huge factor towards using the internet to seek revenge and reap havoc. Especially during a psychotic outrage of another. This in turn is ‘so far’ completely unvetted by social media hierarchy. I know, I have been on the receiving end. The web being a cry for any means of ‘often the wrong of’ attention. Where the mentally meek will use any means of falsehood to be heard in a sea of sharks. Then, when they get well, everything is back to the real perspective.

But when this happens, a portal opens for the prowlers to become almost ecstatic at discovering such seemingly potential drama, that could not possibly happen in their own ‘white supremacist’ bubble of bullshit. The web makes tribes very vulnerable. Isn’t life so very wicked at times. We just have to know we can turn it off and find happiness all around us. In my case, alleyways, and my my kitchen, where I just cooked myself and Danielle (my housekeeper at the hotel) fajitas with spinach and peppers. Going to have another in a mo, with a skinny coffee fix. Then my time warp of a girl cave (bedroom), where I find absolute inner tranquility. A space that is full of worthlessly sentimental treasures, to include my crystal ball, rocks, shells, driftwood, tarot and pets. It’s indescribably connected to core.

I gave up regular drinking a few years ago. when I realised I was in a cycle of addiction to the internet and booze, due to ill health and grim living conditions. Wine being my ‘then’ poison and a means to numb my constant sense of no confidence. I went on an all out soul-searching, learning curve and during this time set up Pet Service Directories and Animal welfare groups. Through my unstoppable determination, I was subsequently bullied to fuck by an established ‘designer pet group’ and a couple of seemingly do good ‘social influencers,’ who use their money (millions) to tick heads. I hate snobbery.

This all went on for years. A systematic battle for which my faith would not be deterred. But on reflection the feedback and updates I still get to this day, regarding the progress I made for the animals, make it all worthwhile. And my tech skills vastly improved, due to the long haul out of physical service.

As we get older, we look back at life and wonder how we could have done things differently. But what we must remember, we cannot change the past. Only learn and grow away from it.

tiffany belle harper

We must remember there are those that confuse ‘love and admiration’ with ‘jealousy and resentment’. People who do not know how to feel empowered by any other, than themselves. The greatest people alive, are often ‘seemingly’ the most hated at a social glance. Maybe because they are truly loved within their own tribes in the real world. Where this in turn creates rivalry. Popularity indeed walks alleyways and does not need or wish to fill stadiums or win prizes. Wisdom has always been free for us all. Never forget that. Dew glistens brighter than diamonds and we can all afford nature.

Two nights a week I may enjoy a drink. It’s a 9% rose fusion made with strawberries and summer fruits. I thoroughly enjoy it on ice with a splash of tonic. I also have a takeaway and make wax melts, soap and bath fizz. I listen to jazz. I know it sounds boring, but I get off on it. I have a load of rescue pets too.

I was a young mum to two boys. I hardly had a social life. In fact, I cannot remember having one at all. I had an open house for all their mates. Three jobs. I would spend all my spare income on food for the kids. I drove them everywhere. I recall taking them to see Eminen in Milton Keynes. The town was rammed. There was absolutely nowhere to park up to wait for them. So, I rather stupidly drove all the way home, walked the dogs. Put a wash on then drove back. Due to it being so busy it took me 3 hours to get there. It was pouring with rain and my phone battery was dead. So, I got out my old banger of a car and ran around the arena circuit looking for the group I had to take home.

I was so worried, not only that I had lost my own kids, but also the two boys with them. I think they were about 12 and 14 at the time. I had given them strict instructions how to stay safe. And where to meet me. But the place we had arranged, which is where I had dropped them off, was now closed off to divert all traffic. The entire system was mayhem. Eventually finding the boys, I was by now almost wetting myself. I had an old washing up bowl in the boot so hid my best and went for a pee in there. Not one of them thanked me for my efforts to transport them to and from the concert. But we don’t do it for praise. It was their first gig. We do it to fill their lives with good memories. But as they turn to adults, they can all too often forget the things we did in favour of what we did not.

I love my boys, but it has not been easy. I am similar to both of them, but in different ways. I am proud. Our children, no matter what age can break our hearts, repeatedly. And we have to allow them to do that. I want James to move to Blackpool as I think he could nail this town. And I want Ashley to release his confidence with balance and harmony.

I still miss Dad. He was my best friend. I never really knew Mum. But I am trying. Our lives have been so different.

I want to retire before I die. But then work keeps me from over thinking. I sometimes miss blogging so much, now I am living in a goldfish bowl. Not everyone wants to be clapped by strangers. Life is much bigger than that. We are all on the same journey and it’s how we feel with our own space that counts most. Nothing to prove here. Am fine with me. I do good. Best I can.

Finally here is a video by a really good mate of mine, Seca One. Speaking quite openly about his history on the streets, together with his mind and how he turned it into being a successful artist. I hope it can help at least one person. Men tend to suffer in ways that are harder to detect. Often becoming hostile and aggresive. This makes me worry. Men need to be heard in a way that takes away a sense of delusion and guilt shifting.

Tiffany. X

left handed anxiety at 3am

Isn’t handwriting fascinating … I don’t know what’s more captivating. Words or the way they’re written? I’m a left paw and I never write the same way. I can write with my eyes shut too. (I’m a left-handed dyslexic with a very big imagination.) Right now … I’ve got dreadful insomnia. Cannot stop worrying. Then when I am tired and able to sleep it will inevitably be time to get up! The joy of trying to write a book in isolation. It’s getting to me … And now I will meditate to see if anyone else is conscious. Or maybe I will craft some geometrical piece of art. Either way, I am in the wide awake club … Oh Fuck! TBH©