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I wrote this the other day in a hurry. I took it down, but it’s all true. It was a highlight of my existance. Now, it’s like it never happened.

I was the Holy See.

Window Pain.

I saw Colin smash his head through a door,

He shoved it right through,

Black and blue.

I was very young,

My life had just began.

And I saw a man in pain smash his head through a window pane.

He had dark adidas trousers on, and braced himself.

I didn’t understand.

I just saw him hurt himself.

Because of a very painful life.

It was sick,

He was a young man and didn’t deserve that,

I don’t know how I reacted.

I was in fear.

It shattered.

A life in tatters.

Because of pain inflicted.

Something that conflicted.

Something that was never meant,

Hurting another,

Because of a cycle of pain.

Treated with such disdain.

Left to die.

Not his own fault, but that of another,

Extreme pain,

Shoved through a window pane.

A man ruined his life,

And thereby ruined the whole family’s lives.

Because of a selfish desire,

That was inflicted on my brother,

By a tosspot called the paedaphile next door,

His name was Chris.

He hurt my brother,

I think he even did it to me.

I only remembered 25 years later.

3 men were in the room and me,

Colin’s friend Dan killed himself,

After witnessing whatever happened,

I was a little girl,

And went back home with something on my back,

Through a gate that had a loveheart on.

It fucked me up,

But it was covered over,

I was what 8/9.

A man died.

And a man cried inside.

Dan was from Stroud, 6’7 and good.

Colin was good too,

I never understood.

I don’t know why, but it hurts inside,

To live a life of such pain,

Makes me want to cry and die inside,

Every day,

I die,

And cry.

My heart is sometimes in so much pain,

That its hard to reframe.

It did hurt,

But that’s life.

I see beauty in pain.

Because my life has been tragic.

But, so has many,

Shit, I don’t know.

I’m just like any.

Fuck Chris.

Forgive Chris

You called me the strong one.

You don’t have any.

How many did you abuse?

Selfish Prick.

I don’t want your dick,

Thanks.

Shove it somewhere else,

And have your pane back.

The one you ruined.

Dickhead.

Paedo

All I remember is Dan’s arms up against the door frame, crying in pain,

I was hypnotised,

Colin was laughing, as you sat on me,

That’s why my hair turned dark,

Because you either wanked on me or raped me.

What a twat.

Go back home Asshat.

You killed a man.

Dan’s dead.

Was it bleach or herion he injected himself with?

After filing a police report?

Then a teacher wiped it from my memory,

Conveniently.

And no-one knew.

Accept for lives shattered.

Like a pane of glass that mattered,

And in their pain, they smashed their head through it.

Because, the truth was too painful.

And not accepted,

Rejected.

To live with pain,

And to not understand why.

To not even understand the action of it, and not know what it’s called.

Sex.

Because of a man who had inclined desires,

You left many with scars

Darren joined the army.

Colin wasn’t allowed.

And a little girl was left with conflicting memories, confused and made to feel immense pain, in hypnosis. And she couldn’t remember

Why when she was older, why she was scared of her big brother.

The one that laughed as she may have been raped,

Or wanked on…

And joked at it all,

Because he was in pain, and went though it all before.

But, when he saw his little sister go through it alone,

He gestured, and said, ‘Come on Katy, you know you want some…’

And his best friend, cried against a door.

And left that place, went home and committed suicide by injection.

I told Mother something happened,

She didn’t understand.

Colin told her behind a wall.

And that best friend he had was no more.

And this little sister disowned her big brother, that day.

Because he let her down,

And left her in dismay.

Then, 12 years later he wanted to Rape her everyday.

Everyday was controlled by him.

I was a beautiful woman,

And was very vulnerable, but it didn’t matter…

Because my family didn’t care..

Colin was the Man of the House,

And who was in hurt, took his pane out on me,

The door he smashed his head through,

Became me.

A door to fuck.

And no-one cared.

Everyday, stuck in a room, asking for help,

A yelp.

But, no-one helped, because he was raped.

So maybe was I.

And he was there.

But, he didn’t care.

He mocked me and his best friend.

At least I was hypnotised,

I would have died otherwise,

The man next door made Colin shove his head through a door, and then he wanted to knock at my door.

Everyday.

Pure Hell.

Doesn’t matter.

Never happened.

Covered over.

Cost me my happiness and life.

A cycle of pain continued,

A pane that could never be replaced.

A pain of glass, that was shattered,

Nothing mattered.

Only a man’s desires.

He was in pain.

I’m in immense pain and never complain.

I could even be called a Saint.

Canonised maybe, in C of E.

But, it didn’t matter.

Because I was an attractive woman,

And didn’t matter,

I was left to shatter.

And the door was his,

Because he was a Man, and I was nothing.

It was all his, his right.

Because Men do that.

Inflict pain.

Everyone in pane feels just the same.

A life in tatters, smashed through glass, because

Some people matter less.

You never mattered less to me, but if one day you can tell me what happened to me, I’m open.

You never mattered less to me,

You matter,

You hurt me, but I understand.

You rule with your head, not what a paedo did to you.

Your life can be rebuilt from tatters, the glass

left in shatters can be

Rebuilt, and your life can

Be rebuilt from the ashes.

You know I love you,

The brother in pain,

We may have gone through the same,

The glass has gone from that window pane,

But, the shards still show.

I’m in pain too,

Just like you.

But Humanity never knew.

YTAK.

If you leave a grain of wheat it remains in the field, but if you harvest it, it serves a greater purpose.

If you ask how old a tree is, you cannot know. Only if you cut it down will you know. Why kill a living entity just for the sake of a question or product, when you care more about the life inherent. Is knowing something really more important what you really ‘know’.

When you go to a gathering like *Glastonbury* and it’s only there for a short period of time, be happy there. It’s the best place on Earth, in regards to how people treat people and it’s only there for a short period of time. The festival is fleeting, but the memories last forever. Glastonbury is one of the few places on Earth, where people treat you with the best of all of *Humanity*. As you get there, and see those flags you realise your somewhere special. And then you go under the arch to the Green fields that is always there, reassuringly. Then, you follow the path up to the stone circle, and you wait for night time. You’re with your family and you sit on a blanket and then light a fire. And you lit that fire. And then, you see some people just about to release a Chinese lantern, and you realise that it’s that same fire. But, this fire is going up to the heavens. This fire is on a journey. One element is on the ground warming you, the other is dancing off into the heavens, to be with its family. The stars. Those stars are always there, and we all go back to the same place. Always remember that fire that you carry is in everything. And, whenever you feel lonely remember to carry your light out into the world, and not to be afraid.

If you imagine a fence with gaps in, and the sun shining through the fence. If you ride past it on a bike, you can see ‘frames’ of the light upon you. Life is like this, like a film. A progression. Fluttering by. Remember, that sometimes you have to be on a journey to collect the ‘still frames’. You don’t gain new experiences by playing safe, you have to get out there and be on an adventure! Life is for the continuous, the journey, the progression. Otherwise, what’s the point? Live!!

When you put your work on the street, like a paste-up, you know what will happen. That paste-up will paper over many other works of art. Each artist decided to leave their creation open to the elements. And to impermanence. One day that piece of paper that was seen, will wither and fade like everything else , but people saw it. And that’s what matters.

Someone asked me once to write a story about a box that had something with endless power in it. I had a small wooden box, and I looked inside it, and there was a mirror. The reflection showed what I needed to know.

YTAK.

I was in the room for 5 years. I can’t really remember much, because it was all kind of a blur. I was basically under the control of my brother for all of this time. If you asked them now, they would probably have forgotten it because they weren’t in pain themselves. Everyone seems to ‘forget’ about my pain. It’s like it’s not even valid. It’s so soul-destroying.

To start with, with my time in the room. I was there until 9.30pm at night until 3.30am in the morning. In this time I had to shower, eat and it was my only time to relax. After a couple of years, no-body seemed to care. It was awful. I used to come downstairs every night, grab my towel, have a shower and prepare my food, then go upstairs again. Then, go on my computer and go to sleep. And then, it would start all over again. Once, Colin said, ‘You can come down now, I’m going!’ He seemed quite happy about it, and said it with a slight cocky tone. It made me very upset. What made me more upset was when he would say sexually aggressive comments to me. He used to say, ‘Women are only good for having my babies’ and other things. I can’t remember now. I’m just tired. I’m fed up that during that time, my family didn’t care and my friends abandoned me. They just left me to die.

Once, Colin tried to touch me up, and because I had no where to go I felt very awful. It was near his chair in the kitchen, I was getting something from the fridge. He had ‘wandering’ hands. I felt so depressed that I went upstairs and listened to a song over and over again until he went home. I completely forgot about it. That wasn’t that bad, but I had no where to go and he could have raped me at anytime and I couldn’t cope. At that time, the house was done up and there was a door on the doorframe, but it didn’t have a lock.

I felt suicidal every moment of every day. My mum used to bring me food, but everyone used to treat me like shit. I had my art and made some good pieces, but it was like I was in a coma most of the time. I was when I was sleeping completely out of it.

Once, and I know this is not as bad as what happened to Colin, but he tried to rape me. I was half asleep and he came into my room, and his dick was erect. I said, ‘Not now Colin, I’m sleeping.’ And he left. I couldn’t stand it. No-one did anything. But, the thing that really gets to me, is this wasn’t just 5 years, it’s been my entire life. When I was a child, no-one did anything to help me. Mum and dad didn’t do anything. They just ‘left’ me to get on with everything. I was a little girl, and they left me at the mercy of ‘him’. Dad should have put his foot down and got Colin to get help, because if he did Colin would have had a nice life, I and the rest of the family wouldn’t have suffered. But neither Mum or dad did anything. I was born into this horrible situation. What could I have done as a little girl? Rescued myself? It was horrible.

No-one cared. And I felt failed. I don’t really know how I feel now. But I feel upset. The horrible thing is that none of these ‘people’ now will probably not remember nothing. That’s the worse thing! My pain has never been validated and everyone has gotten away with it! And when, ‘they’ are in pain, they moan. And, if I’m in pain, they don’t think anything of it. I’m in absolute soul-destroying pain. And it’s never been valid.

I have done a few wrong things in my life, and I wish I could go back. So, I’m sorry. I wish I could go back. My family created a lot of this pain, and they never took into account my pain, and I was left.

I feel complete heart break underneath the surface, but I act as if everything is okay. Everytime I’m in pain, I go a level above it. And then, people think I’m fine. My whole life, I’ve done this, and I feel that no-one cares. It’s awful.

I just want to move away, and meet new people. The things which I had to endure as a child would sicken most people, and I’ll get to them in the next part of this writings.

I just feel so failed...

Then, I was trapped in a room for 5 years. At the start of my confinement, I wasn’t physically developed, but it was still awful. Initially, my friends called sometimes and invited me to places like the cinema and the pub. But, I sensed they didn’t want me around, and I turned them down anyway. I remember one time near the start of the confinement. I was sleeping on the floor in my bedroom and someone asked me if I wanted to come to the cinema to see King Kong. I really wanted to go, but felt like a piece of shit, so I declined. I saw no way out.

I had a problem that was making me smell bad, and had no way of controlling it. I didn’t know what it was, and people used to treat me horribly. My family didn’t know how to help me, and eventually most of them stopped caring. I never used to go out, so used to eat the food that was in the kitchen. The only way I could cope with everything was to sleep. The air in the room became stuffy and bad, because I used to be in there all day. It was just so awful. I can’t really remember much about the start of all this, but I can recall the later years.

When, I developed physically things got very much worse. My brother was downstairs all day. He was mentally unwell, and used to drink a lot of alcohol and smoke very strong skunk (cannabis). He became very threatening to me, and made my life completely unbearable. Mum used to buy him a crate of lager that he’d get through in 2 days. He became very aggressive towards me, and started to make very sexual remarks towards me when I would go downstairs. So, I stopped going downstairs. If I needed the toilet, I used to piss in a jar and put it under my bed, until I could pour it in the sink. I had a sink in my room, but could only do that when my sister wasn’t in her room or the corridor, because she would smell it, because I only had a curtain in the place where a door would be. There was no door to my room at that time, (before we had the house renovated). I would sometimes go downstairs to use the toilet when Colin was in the garden. But, I didn’t really have much time. I used to hold in my urine and because I couldn’t go to the toilet I would sleep and it would hurt, because I held it in for so long. I also used to defecate in my trousers and underwear, because I couldn’t stand to be around him.

Mum would bring me food everyday, and I used to cook it every night when Colin went home. He left at 9.30pm - 10.00pm, and came back at 3.30 in the morning. That was the only time I had. Then it started all over again. I used to sleep all the time, and the only thing that got me through it was my music. I used to have my iPod on in bed, and sometimes while I was asleep. Mum, bought me food though, but she didn’t do anything about Colin. I told her I was getting desperate, but she didn’t do anything.

As I developed Colin would say rude and sexual things. I don’t really want to talk about them here, but he made me aware of things. When, I was cooking noodles for everyone, and stirring them, he said that it sounded like two people having sex. I had no idea what he was talking about. He used to say things like this regularly, and because I had no where to go it was awful. I didn’t even know anything about this. I once had a cardboard tube and was running my hand along it, and he said something. He said, ‘Oh, Kate don’t. Your turning me on.’

The comments were how it started. And then they became very real threats, so I had to stay in my room. All, of what I previously wrote was before we had the house done up. We moved to a house in The Reddings area of Cheltenham, which was quite nice. We all liked it there and me and my other brother moved in there first. It was nice.

I had a nice room there and lived there with my family. At the time, Colin was being aggressive and self-harming. He used to cut himself, and was in quite a bad way. I really wish he would have gotten help sooner. It was terrible what happened to him. He was hurt repeatedly by a neighbour, and he didn’t tell anyone. It makes me sad and upset for him. If Mum and Dad would have helped him, he would have been able to do anything now. He would have a nice job and a wife, but they didn’t do anything to help him. I don’t understand. They left him to suffer.

I was left to suffer too. But that’s another story...

Earth.

This place is our home,

In it we live the sum of our lives.

We are caretakers of this world.

And all sentient beings should be heard,

These beings understand every word.

They trust us, and we slaughter them indiscriminately,

Because they took such lesser forms,

Forms that were never meant to be free.

Is this really the best of humanity?

To eat the body of another,

And feed it to the other?

Where is the sense in this pain?

All for a momentary pleasure gain?

When will we learn,

That truth lies in each other,

Not behind hatred, fear or unkindness

towards the other?

We were meant to take care of this place.

Not to eat its inhabitants,

And buy things of material waste.

When will we wake up,

And realise that we are here to protect,

Not to live a life full of neglect.

Earth is dying,

And we keep trying.

Save this fucking place for God’s sake.

Look after the Earth,

And realise that it is what it’s worth.

YTAK

When I was 17, I had to make an awful decision. I had to decide to stay in a horrible situation or leave it. This was when I was at college, but at the same time I was being hit around at home. I was always abused at home, and so were my brothers and sisters. But, when I was 16/17 I went to a higher education arts college, and the people there were very cruel to me. I didn’t and still don’t know why, but they were like ‘silent’ bullies. I could never cope with the situation at home, so school and places of learning became my escape. But, when it started happening there as well, I had no way of coping with it.

The bullying at college was ‘silent’, by this I mean it wasn’t obviously visible. It was like it was done in secret. And, I didn’t do anything to deserve it. At this time also, my friends were gradually being more horrible about the TMAU problem. I remember one incident at a pub where they were trying to ‘phase’ me out by ignoring me, and making remarks that hurt me, but I didn’t know why. And another where we were in a shopping centre and one ‘friend’ said, ‘something or someone really stinks’. So, my other avenue of ‘escape’ was disappearing. Then, I went back to college and had to be treated like shit, by mean people.

At college, people used to say things and it would always hit me right in my heart. It was soul-destroying. There used to be this group of ‘popular’ girls and I liked them, but they would say things. I was at college for a year and for about 2 weeks of the second year. Gradually, things got worse. I was feeling more and more depressed and desperate, but at the time didn’t know what this feeling was. I had never felt it before. I was being sidelined by my friends, hit around at home and bullied at college. So, I had no escape.

I loved art more than anything, and wanted to continue my studying, but I couldn’t cope. It was absolutely soul-destroying to leave. I remember being in a computer room that was very small and hot, and feeling anxious about my smell. My classmates were being very mean and saying things, that really hurt.

Before this, I told my tutor called Paul, that I wanted to leave the college, and he told me to think about it. In that computer class, he said out loud, after I told him I wanted to leave, said, ‘I really wish that one of ‘you’ wasn’t here anymore’. After, that, I can’t remember if it was the same day, I went to a photography a-level class and there were some first-years there, who were quite immature. They were saying things and I felt like they were attacking me. I wanted to run out the room. I don’t know if it was the same class, but on another occasion, my tutor said we had to work in pairs and I was paired up with a girl called Monica, and the tutor went up to her and said she had to work with me, and she shook her head and looked very upset. So, I had to work with Chris, who was a friend that I used to hang around with.

The ‘silent’ bullying got so bad that I was getting to the point where I wanted to eat lunch in the toilet. My last day was the photography class, I then went to the train station. I can’t remember if Chris was with me, but when I got to the second platform, sone people were laughing at me. I felt so awful, with the situation at college, and at home getting hit around, that I wanted to jump in front of a train.

I had never felt like this before. I didn’t know how to deal with it, I didn’t know what suicidal meant. I thought that I needed to make a decision, I had to ‘leave’ one situation, or I was going to kill myself. I couldn’t get away from home, so I very reluctantly left college. Art was my passion, it was what I wanted to study. Going to university was the only thing I ever wanted to do.

But, the situation was so awful, that I had to leave. It killed me.

When, I got home I thought that in the next couple of days or weeks that my tutors would phone me, and tell me to come back. But, no phone call came. Then, I remember going out with a friend, and we saw some of the popular girls from college, and they shouted, ‘ Why, did you leave us!!’ I couldn’t cope. Soon, after that, my friends didn’t really want to know. There used to be random trips to the cinema, and meals but they stopped calling.

This was the start of 5 years in my room.

jacobvanloon

Jacob van Loon Station XIV

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