Thank you so much for the reply! I should have read more, sorry.
One of the reasons I haven't submitted anything before is that Rejection and I have a tendency to punch each other in the face (Rejection has a faster reflex than me).

I know that feeling.

Thanks Dirty Martini :)

Languishing

Writing, writing and more writing. Hoping to crack a story but can't seem to get started.

Depends. Right now I'd choose alone.
I also don't like tea or coffee, Gill.

Sweet or savoury?

Trepidatious

Thank you for the link! Site seems a bit clunky but can't really complain seeing as entry is free.

I have entered my poem from here, Ebb & Flow.

Egregious

Grasp - Spray

stork - snort

I'm not sure I could pick a least favourite, possibly any of the math / science teachers I had the displeasure of frustrating with my inability to grasp concepts 😂. I actually feel really blessed I can't think of many that I had a particularly strong dislike for.

Favourites though, oh I could pick so many. Anyone that teaches with a real passion is what I loved.

My fourth grade teacher, Miss Surkitt, reinforced kindness and tolerance in me, taught me the importance of believing in myself and was a remarkably strong, courageous and resilient human in the eyes of my 8 year old self. I, hmmm, "buddied" a child with special needs for the whole year in her class, helped him keep up an stay focussed. He was an amazing kid. I also, long story short, ended up skipping a grade by administrative accident. The principal wanted to fix the error but I was keeping up with the work and she not only encouraged me but taught me the importance of self-belief. She ended up quite ill during the teaching year and ended up dying from adult leukaemia, yet she was the brightest, happiest person, always smiling, and loved, LOVED the kids in her class. I will never forget her.

High school my favourites were always my English teachers. I remember a Mrs. Wong and Mr Wallace in particular who taught English in year 11 and 12. They gave me the passion for English and were the reason I considered becoming an English teacher. I would still consider it and still love it, however found a different passion now. Mrs. Wong was also a librarian and she used to reserve new books that came in so I could read them first.

And now in tertiary education my least favourite is actually my favourite as well... and I think that's how you know you're in adult education. If she were primary/secondary teacher I would have resented her. But I suppose the thing is, she is not a teacher, she is a professional in an industry where she has the credibility to teach the next generation of those professionals. She has made me cry on numerous occasions, but she is a phenomenal teacher and I connect so well with the way she teaches course material, key concepts and demonstrates skill based learning. There are others who are plenty more friendly and lovely and really inject enthusiasm in you, but based on a purely teaching perspective, this lecturer is excellent.

Someone, somewhere, asked, "What is anxiety to you?" These were my thoughts. To me, a small snapshot of anxiety is... Catastrophising. Conflict. Crisis. Delusion. Doubt. Fear. Insecurity. Overthinking. Paralysis. Stress. Worry. It's never been the way others seemed to describe it, and with no clear ignition... no blazing flames consuming me in an attack, I was long ignorant to my...

Added 12 Dec 2016 | Category Musings | Votes 4 | Avg Score 5 | Views 874 | 4 Comments

The bite of the blade shocked her, as it pierced her tender pale flesh. Hesitation had always ruled this moment, as small droplets of blood beaded across her skin. Tonight, she knew her conviction had wavered for the last time. Darkness had long feasted on her frailties, and she craved the claim of shadows, the peace that would come when her lifeless form crippled below her. The bite of...

Added 05 Dec 2016 | Category Micro Fiction | Votes 6 | Avg Score 5 | Views 771 | 5 Comments

The night continues to fall and I become one with the shadows.  Struggling to stay afloat, I am stranded in this unrelenting flow waiting for an ebb that never comes. This tide is not turning. A darkness has awakened in me.  You can cut its roots at the surface, but it lives in twisted stems and thrives in coiled tendrils that are anchored in inky depths. It is here that I shrivel and decay....

Added 21 Sep 2016 | Category Poetry | Votes 7 | Avg Score 5 | Views 1,038 | 5 Comments

Twenty-Nine. I am taking myself to bed on the precipice, but you will technically arrive sometime around four in the morning. Knowing my inevitable battle with sleeplessness I’ll still be awake as you come to pass. I know, I’m still quite the “Spring Chicken”, but for the first time, I feel kind of old, and you’re honestly the first that has been unwelcome. The journey of my 29th...

Added 19 Sep 2016 | Category Musings | Votes 4 | Avg Score 5 | Views 778 | 4 Comments

Why are you such a jerk, brain? Why is this the time of day I suddenly feel most awake and alive? Seriously, I must question my sanity entirely when at 4:37am I am so over the not sleeping and all the thinking, questioning, analysing that I consider going out and about for a walk and dancing in the early Spring drizzle in the dead of the night. Actually that sounds like a really swell idea, but...

Added 09 Sep 2016 | Category Musings | Votes 7 | Avg Score 4.86 | Views 825 | 8 Comments