BLOG 63: Four Seasons and a Gunshot

“Anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain.” The Happy Valley Set Kenya 1925-1942

There is little more life affirming than the changing of the seasons.

I do pity those who live in climates where seasons are defined only by rainfall. How much they miss. I recall in the film “White Mischief” the character played by Sarah Miles got up drew back her curtains and looked out to a glorious view over the Wanjohi Valley and said “Oh God! Not another fucking beautiful day” and promptly shot herself. I recall the gasp around the cinema – but I think we all got it…life needs variety and without it even perfection becomes deathly repetitive.

Northern Europe of course never threatens to give us the weather Ms Miles character had to endure in Kenya. We have defined seasons which follow closely the pattern of life itself, each season with a unique developmental stage just like people.

The cycle starts for me in winter. The absence of clutter, with the trees bare, the pathways free from leaves, the air crisp and the sky the bluest of blues. The deep snowfalls act like a blanket protecting all that has come before and nurturing all that is to come. Winter always fools me as a time when things end, but then shakes me with just how much strength it holds…. A little like a matriarch of a family, dangerous to underestimate and full of purpose.

Then comes spring. It battles the remnants of winter and showing itself to be a new force all of its own. Like a baby’s first cries distinguish it as separate from the mother who carried it, spring demands to be acknowledged separately. It does what a million springs have done before, push up tender green buds, and delicate shoots – and we applaud as if we’ve never seen it before as we do when a baby first reaches for a rattle or sits up unaided. The toddler stage follows swiftly on as flowers burst forth and lawns become green. We feel the hope of a new start.

Summer is as brash as any young child – the blueness of the sky, the yellowness of the sun, the embracing heat of day and the distance to the night. Summer is a time of action and plans and using up every one of those long minutes of daylight – it is full of possibility. But like childhood summer has two halves. In the latter half it becomes a teenager, sunshine mixed with sulky storms – impossible to predict. But we find ourselves indulgent with hope that this is just a phase and that the joy of early summer may return.

Without warning we find ourselves in autumn. The garishness of a childlike summer fades to muted shades that carry a unique and short lived beauty. The burnished golds, reds and maroons that tumble from the trees enthral us. The bounty of fruit and crops, the unexpected warmth the sun has despite the coolness of the air. Early autumn is like the first stage of adulthood dazzling in its outward beauty, rewarding in its life enhancing crop. Then comes the second half where all that was beautiful becomes piles of leaves for children to jump on and throw giddily in the air. The sky returns to that bluest of blue and while the sun still can blind with its light, it holds little heat. Yet we cling onto this period as always we are never as ready for winter as we should be – even though we know once in it there will be no fear- but we are not quite ready yet.

I love the rituals we follow for each season.

In winter, with the nights longer than the days, we become a more indoors people. We fill our homes with the warmth the sun can no longer deliver and to enter from outside becomes a joyous experience. Our empty living rooms become the hub of life and are lived in once more. There never seems enough room on the sofa. Later into the season we decorate our streets and homes with a multitude of twinkling lights and bring trees inside. We are more sociable, and feel obliged to meet up with everyone before the season is out.

In spring, with the first signs of something new afoot, we become industrious with clearing out the old. Spring cleaning is not a misnomer. We create space for what ever is to come. It’s a time of acting on resolutions made in the dark winter months, and a time when planting new life has its strongest appeal. Everything about spring encourages one to grow, to reach, to succeed.

In summer, with daylight lasting well into the night, we live outside. It becomes foolish to spend anytime more that necessary within man made walls. This is the time of picnics, travel, music festivals, carnivals, theme parks, barbeques and hitting the beach. After a lethargic period huddled on the sofa and watching TV, suddenly the nation feels the urge to play sport and tennis courts and swimming pools are full of wanna be Wimbledon stars and Olympians.

Come autumn, the great outdoors begins to lose its appeal. A certain joy is to had from a shorter allowance of daylight in that the pressure to always have something spectacular to do is alleviated. The simple pleasures like walking to observe the changing colours and jumping in piles of crispy leaves, becomes irresistible. Bonfires and fireworks, comfort food and comfort jumpers all ensure there is plenty to smile about.

There is so much to be said for living in a place where the climate undulates into such very different phases. I cannot imagine as much can be said for a climate that would be hot and dry for half a year – and hot and wet for the other.

I love the seasons here. I love the fact that we are assured that no matter what is happening in our own lives, that the bigger life that is all around us goes on.

The worries that torment you however large or small will pass in time – that is what the seasons tell me. It seems moments ago that I was trying to find which top exposed enough flattering flesh whilst hiding bingo wings… and now such summer worries are behind me as my favourite lambswool jumper makes a return. (Not an option for my friends who live in more temperate climes)

I think back to Sarah Miles in “White Mischief” flinging open the curtains and seeing the paradise that was never changing. She must have felt that like the climate, her personal problems (and for those who haven’t seen the film she had a few!) would never let up.

Not a problem here in the so called Garden of England! If the inevitability of change is reflected in the weather then I have little chance of throwing back my curtains and feeling stuck. Since I have been typing this, I have experienced quite a few climatic issues. At the start, the patio doors were flung wide open to welcome a pale blue sky and a watery sun while a gentle autumn breeze blew. Half way through I had to change position as the sunlight become so strong it caused glare on my screen. A little while ago I had to turn on the lights because it became so damn overcast and now as I type my last sentences… the patio door are locked tight in case the force 10 out there blows them off and the heating is on. Not much chance of me reaching for my revolver when I am experiencing four seasons in one day!

Never the less, I love the fact our seasons change. With each change of season come new challenges and new opportunities. I love that fact that all you have to is wait a while and we will be somewhere else. I wonder if it is truly a co-incidence that the most repressive societies are those for whom seasonal change is limited. I think to live with the ever changing seasons has taught those of us who do, that change is nothing to be afraid of.

And that said….I suppose I better get my bikini out… cause hey… you never know!

JaxWorld has been nominated for ‘Best Blog about Stuff’ in the Bloggers Choice Awards. If you enjoy this blog please vote for it using the following link:

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BLOG 62 - Ain't Misbehaving....

“The best way to behave… is to misbehave” Mae West, Movie star Extraordinaire

I’m not recommending it. I’m sure not validating it. I want to make that clear. But I don’t understand why we find it so hard to accept that for some women, being the ‘other woman’ is the only viable option.

I know I know… it’s a terrible betrayal of your gender to have a relationship with someone else’s man. And when there are kids involved it’s even worse. But what if the agenda is not to destroy what already exists but to run along side quietly and invisibly… that what ever the two people doing this thing, just take what they get from it and go back to their lives somewhat better for the experience?

There are societies who turn a blind eye to this kind of infidelity, encourage it almost – including ours. In Renaissance Europe, it was customary for royal couples to lead separate lives — commonly marrying simply to preserve bloodlines and to secure political alliances — men and women would often seek gratification and companionship from people living at court. In fact, the verb "to court" originally meant "to be or reside at court", and later came to mean "to behave as a courtier" and then "to pay amorous attention to somebody".

However we seem to have forgotten our history and picked up the puritanical streak from our cousins over the pond. Seems we forgot why it was we encouraged that lot to board the Mayflower! We now insist that courting is not so much about amour and more about commitment. However, with commitment not working out for the vast majority of the populace, some of the old fashioned meanings of the word courtship has returned.

The unavailable man is very attractive to women who do not want to be committed to a man. Anyway, once you’ve done it all the right way for decades and it all came to nothing… it’s very hard to even consider putting yourself through all that again. But the option of a life without male attention and more to the point sex is rather too high a price to pay.

But what is in it for him… after all he has a lot to lose. Well firstly and simply it’s not just about the sex. It’s more about nostalgia. He is very aware that the romantic choices he has made means that he no longer runs his own life. He used to come and go as he pleased; he watched or played footie whenever he wanted. He lived his own lifestyle. He could have his woman with him whenever he wanted and she would pay all of her attention to him. But that’s all past tense, now he has responsibilities, a mortgage, a job he has because it pays the most, not because it satisfies him. His woman now has to divide her time between him, and everything they took on together also. On paper he has gained more… but inside he feels like he lost a lot. He wants to feel the joy of conquest once more. He wants to feel like he is doing something for him.

When a man feels like this he is ripe for an affair. And when a man meets a woman who is sexy, confident, in control of her life but so not looking for a commitment, he knows he will make a move. He watches the available fellas take the knock backs and bides his time ready to stake his claim.

But what normally happens is that the subject of this storm of the battlements usually says no.

It is the one of the last taboos… women know it is not right in societies eyes to have any kind of secret relationship with a man, be it emotional, physical… or even cyber. Yeah, there are predatory females out their who will deliberately chase an unavailable man – but they are rare.

Most women who end up in a relationship with an unavailable man, said no at the beginning.

So why do they end up doing it?

Because there is nothing that makes a man feel more like a man than when he is in conquest mode… and no one does conquest mode like an unavailable man. Unlike his available brothers, he is not in a hurry, the seduction is as much a prize as the act. He’ll take years if he has to. He also has an unwitting assistant in the person he is committed to, who no doubt will moan endlessly about his short coming and what it REALLY takes to make a woman happy. He’ll use this information well – unfortunately not on her.

Following such a relentless pursuit, the woman who says no... says maybe. Which is all it needs to turn the no to a yes.

On saying yes she discovers that she did not burst into flame or be dragged to hell by satan's minions. In fact a multitude of unexpected benefits are bestowed. She quickly discovers that being with an unavailable man isn’t all negatives – especially if her life is pretty full and enriching though clearly manless.

Just at the point where the lack of male attention in her life starts to be something she should address...He pops up. He is not asking you to create a space in your life for him… just leave a tiny gap which he promises he will leave clutter free and vacate regularly. The offer sounds less upheaval than taking on a full on relationship… and to be honest sporadic attention is all you really need – like topping up oil and water in a car.

In addition to sating the need for sporadic attention, he can provide sex, usually at regular intervals… going back to the car analogy it doesn’t hurt to keep the engine and body work serviced. Unlike a partner of her own there is little price to pay for this… she won't have to live with him, which means no snoring, picking up after him, and she doesn’t have to ask permission to come and go as she pleases.

When she talks she is fascinating, he’ll actually listen as the pressure is off to be a solution provider. Also he doesn’t see her that often so what she has to say IS actually news. Because he is aware that such arrangements are temporary by nature, he’ll be relaxed in a way he could never be with a woman he has a formal commitment to. Men laugh more with the other woman.

An unavailable man will work harder than any available man to make a woman have a good time with him. He will be more charming, loving, attentive and wonderful than a woman can imagine that any man can be. Of course this is purely because he is acting up. He is trying to recapture his studly days (where he was probably never as suave) but she will reap the benefit.

Having an affair with an unavailable man suits a lot of women at some stage in their lives. It is fun, it is flattering, it is the most wonderful way of rebuilding damaged self-confidence, and it gives the woman a great sense of her own power.

What is on offer is some of his time, his attention, his company and his body. It has to be clear from the start that it will be over if either of person falls in love. He already has that else where and she entered this because falling in love is exactly what she doesn’t have time for. The whole thing should be kept light.

And because it is kept light, he need not assume that fidelity is something you are practicing either. The unwritten rules are of course:

• Don’t ask
• Never Complain
• Never Explain

It’s all about two people consenting to enjoy and indulge each other.

But let’s get this straight. Being in a relationship with an unavailable man is ONLY for women who are NOT seeking a committed relationship. The reason why so many end up burnt is that they miss the simple fact… the man is UNAVAILABLE. It’s the unavailability that is the insurance policy that commitment is not and should never be on the table as an option

Like I said at the start - I’m not recommending it I’m sure not validating it. I want to make that clear. But relationships with unavailable men are an option for many women. Providing everyone sticks to the rules.

However, it should be said that a woman in this situation should not panic too much if he does say the L word… after all; the basic qualification for his role is being a man who can get away with lying to women!

JaxWorld has been nominated for ‘Best Blog about Stuff’ in the Bloggers Choice Awards. If you enjoy this blog please vote for it using the following link:

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BLOG 61 - Vanity or Fair?

“I'm tired of all this nonsense about beauty being only skin-deep. That's deep enough. What do you want, an adorable pancreas?”

Jean Kerr author and playwright

Of all the virtues the most maligned is beauty. Maybe because it is not something one can attain by hard effort or cunning, those who were not so blessed label it as trivial. There is a con we have all entered into in which we claim the possession of beauty is not something we should value or base judgements upon.

It is often said that it is wonderful when someone has no idea how beautiful they are. It is often said that it is unbearably vain of someone to actually be aware of and value, neigh even trade upon their beauty

Thus, those who are beautiful usually have no training on how to handle such a blessing…or curse.

It seems odd to me that we would never allow someone out into the world with a million pounds sterling, clueless of its value. And yet we routinely send people into society with no idea of the currency of exterior beauty.

The world is very different place for the beautiful. There are things that happen to them that do not happen to those less aesthetically provided for.

I have no experience of being a man so I shall look at the experience of a female from say… school into the workplace with maybe a stop at matrimony on the way.

The first thing a beautiful girl should learn is that she will have an uphill struggle to ever find true friends. Those who fall into the category of the norm tend not to wish to seem needy and do not approach the beauties for friendship – also the assumption is made that any one who looks that good would not welcome such an approach.

Outside of the world of American high school movies, beautiful girls do not tend to gravitate towards each other as the curse of being exceptional means that they are quite socially inept. Not falling into the category of what is deemed normal, and drilled from an early age that to make anything of their beauty is to commit the sin of vanity – a beautiful girl tends not to know how to put herself forward. So the wait for an approach… which of course never comes.

Which leaves the beauty vulnerable to being befriended by those at the other end of the scale. This is less a of case of opposites attracting but a case of the stench of loneliness wafting over the plains to the hungry wolf. The wolf in this case being the plain jane. Plainer girls like to latch on to a beautiful girl so they may bask (and benefit) from the association. Look around you, how many beautiful girls are accompanied by the unattractive mate? It’s a dynamic that is seldom mentioned – and yet completely statistically viable.

Should the beauty survive puberty – and let’s face facts, many a beautiful child does not morph into a beautiful adult – the mating game holds even more unusual circumstance.

Beautiful women do not get asked out.

I know … I know it seems hard to believe but the statistics do not lie. Men truly believe that beautiful women are unapproachable. They readily assume she must have plenty of dates already and is not available - which explains the statistic in reality beautiful women have many less dates than average women.

Many of my male friends say that they had never in their lives even approached a beautiful girl. When I asked why, this was the top 4 reasons they gave.

1.) She's hot... she must be taken
2.) She can obviously get anyone she wants... why would she want me/ I can’t afford a high maintenance girlfriend
3.) She must spend hours on her looks, she is probably pretty vain.
4.) She probably has tons of men hitting on her all the time

Of course less ‘in field’ action replicates the syndrome started at school making her more socially inept than the average or plainer woman when it comes to dealing with men. So after a childhood being manipulated by the plain jane’s, she enters a dating life with the jerks.

The only men who do not run the top four excuses then look away – are the jerks. Now then jerks are a special breed, they come in three varieties:

1.)Guys are physically compatible who want a beautiful woman to have sex with.

2.)Guys are nothing like physically compatible that wish they could have a beautiful woman to have sex with.

3.)Guys with low self-esteem that want to be seen talking to a beautiful woman that they have no chance of having sex with.

For the jerk a beautiful woman is just a commodity. It’s all about him, and sex or the appearance of it.

Should you visit any matrimonial website, you will see that the vast majority of the single women on it will be exceptionally fair of face. And no this is not something that can be solely attributed to the use of photoshop!

If you walk down any high street in Britain you will see attractive fit men proudly accompanying their less than attractive spouses. You won’t find the plain janes and the normal noras on any matrimonial site – they are already married. Men it seems will fantasise about beauty but will not approach it – and they damn sure won’t marry it.

How does the old song go…?

“If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life

Never make a pretty woman your life

So from my personal point of view

Get an ugly girl to marry you”

Men equate beauty with shallowness. They believe when looking for a life partner that they should stay within the realms of the norm or go lower. They believe a beautiful woman would be less able to provide for herself than a plainer woman and therefore more likely to use her looks to separate the man from his wealth. There is a strong belief from men than beautiful women would use men for money; once the money is gone they are gone.

I asked a male friend of mine why it was he married such a plain girl

“Beautiful women have tons of people to choose from so why would they really want to devote their entire life to someone that is "just so sweet and kind" but not well off financially... it’s obvious that they will just look for someone who had all of that cause how many times have you seen a beautiful woman get out of a beat up car or have cheap belongings? I’d rather keep it real with a normal girl – at least I know she isn’t going to be getting lots of tempting offers to leave me all the time”.

While normal nora and plain jane are dating with a view to settling down, the beauty is having less dates than both combined… and with guys for whom she would never a permanent option. Needless to say by the time she gets of this particular meri-go-round either all the good men are gone, or she’s so old her looks have begun to fade (though she may just catch a break if one of the good men becomes a widower!)

Still at least she can smile one place her beauty will aid her is in the workplace. Although it is harder for a beautiful person to be taken seriously for anything other than exterior packaging, should a beauty gain employment she should be very happy with her pay cheque. Less genetically-blessed colleagues do earn significantly less, due to the fact that looks are the first thing that an employer calls to mind when reviewing performance. If there are positive associations with t eh image brought to mind, an employer is less likely to notice factors such as competencies, interpersonal skills or lack of them. Latest statistics show that is an average looking woman earned £30,000, her beautiful colleague doing the same job would earn £32,000, whilst their plain colleague at the same level would earn £26,400. That’s a variable of over five and a half grand!

Fact is that the beautiful and the average and the plain do live very different existences. But to the beautiful we say only to not make a big deal about it, that it is truly only the contents of ones soul that is worth concentrating on. But there IS a difference - the arrangement of ones exterior features and form can have a dramatic effect of how the world will allow life to be lived.

Why do we demand the beautiful have to pretend that they have no idea that they are? Why are we so afraid to instruct the beautiful on the real value and pitfalls of what they have got? Why is it wrong for them to acknowledge that they are different, own it and deal with it?

It just seems daft to me that we allow these people to enter the fray equipped with nothing more than false modesty. Do they not have to be advised on how to deal with what (quite obviously) are a unique set of circumstances that are particular to their existence?

It’s not vanity to know you are tall. It’s not vanity to acknowledge will make people react to you in ways quite different to how they would react to someone of average or less height. It’s not vanity to instruct a tall person what to expect as a consequence of this exterior feature genetics threw them. It is not vanity to inform a tall person how to work with any advantage/disadvantage of this genetic curve ball.

And yet we can’t acknowledge beauty in this way. We can’t equip those who have it with any other advice than “Beauty is only skin-deep”

Clearly beauty is something we DO value highly and judge harshly – and yet it is the one thing we do not allow any one who has got it to admit ownership off. If a beautiful person even looks like they are about to own their beauty we immediately start accusing them of vanity.

Sometimes I just wonder… are we making the beautiful feel that they are guilty of vanity simply because we just don’t want to play fair?

JaxWorld has been nominated for ‘Best Blog about Stuff’ in the Bloggers Choice Awards. If you enjoy this blog please vote for it using the following link:

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Blog 60, Sunny Side

“It was the best of times; it was the worst of times” Charles Dickens from his masterpiece Tale of Two Cities

Chaz Dickens and I are on good terms. (You can see he ain’t Charles to me – I’m Jax, he’s Chaz).

We have a lot in common, both residing in Kent and both being far too political and outspoken for our own good and not giving a monkies about it. We also both dabble with writing and have had our publishing successes… though I have to concede that Chaz has proven a little wider read than I… but then he did have a head start!

But more than our geography, personalities and vocations I have an infinity with Chaz, cause he could see it as it is.

Life is as good as it is awful, poor as it is rich, painful as it is gleeful, and predictable as it is unstable… and all within the same moment.

There is nothing so awful that something great doesn’t come out of it – even if it is just the fact that you or those around you get stronger from the strife.

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.

You tell ‘em Chazzer!

I was sitting on my patio enjoying the break of dawn this morning, and the thought occurred to me that I have been through some mighty strife in recent years. It also made me question why it was I felt so happy. And happy I do feel… I’ve been feeling that way for a long time!

Of course must tone down the happiness, cause singing Destiny’s Child’s “I’m a Survivor” to the sun as it made an appearance this morning did NOT go down too well with the neighbours.

But it was an apt ditty…

Thought I couldn't breathe without you

I'm inhaling

thought I couldn't see without you

Perfect vision

thought I couldn't last without you

But I'm lastin'

thought that I would die without you

But I'm livin'

Thought that I would fail without you

But I'm on top

Thought it would be over by now

But it won't stop

Thought that I would self destruct

But I'm still here

Even in my years to come

I'm still gonna be here

When I was delicately warbling this at the sun (next door says roaring)... I was thinking of my hair, my lone-parent status, my redundancy, and my youth!

They gave the best of times.. they gave the worst of times.

I honestly thought when I lost all my hair (see blog 34) that I would not recover. Well, as much as my hair did not… two years on, I haven’t self destructed, I’m still here. It’s an adjustment and things have irreversibly changed, but I’m stronger for it. I had no idea people could be so cruel that they would blame the victim… but they did. They tossed their own hair and called me vain for caring that I’d lost all mine while simply doing something 97% of all women do. But I gathered in that hurt and used it positively. I went on National TV and campaigned for women to be aware of the risks and took on the big pharmaceutical companies who allow these unsafe products into the market place. I even placed photos of what happened to be on the internet for all to see. I refused to be a victim. I never knew I had that strength… but the worst of times gave me an opportunity to find the best of myself.

I really believed when I got replaced by a teenager when the father of my then 8 year old child decided to have a mid life crisis… that I would die. I was an arrogant person when I was in a couple, (see blogs 2 & 3) and I used to sneer at lone parents – or single parents as I rudely used to call them. I thought it was just a matter of going out there, find a compatible person, get a commitment and get on with your life. I couldn’t understand how people could even consider having kids wit someone so unstable they would leave you literally holding the baby. I thought lone parents got it all wrong in the selection process and I was better than them. I used to believe MY relationship would last forever. In the end it lasted 13 years. Then I was alone for the first time in my adult life… with one addition a beautiful little boy who thought I could sort it all out. I didn’t die. I have become, mother and father, nurse and playmate, breadwinner and nurturer, the arms that cuddle and the feet that kick arse. I never knew I could be all those people and more… but the worst of times gave me the opportunity to multi-skill in a way I never knew possible.

Being made redundant for the THIRD time by one industry felt that my chances of ever being able to survive were over. When my son’s father left us, I got made redundant for the second time soon after. I pulled every rabbit out the hat and on my last rabbit secured an exciting well paid role where I could project manage till my hearts content. My son and I were living with friends at the time, but the job paid enough for me to take over the house when my friends moved out. I took my son snowboarding in America and Canada, we had weekend adventures, I took him and his grandparents ranching. There was always food in the cupboard and his birthday parties were a legend. I was so proud of myself for not only being able to support my son and myself, but to do so in style. Then without warning…redundancy. It was OVER. You only have to read blog 8 about the gut wrenching sickening procedures involved in getting state assistance. But I didn’t stay helpless. JaxWorld went online with me writing columns about how I see life, a completely different style of writing from the book where I made my name. People began to respond...before I knew it my inbox was full. (See blog 14 for the turn around in situation). The worst of times had given me the opportunity to find out that I was a columnist and NOT a novelist, and at last I found an audience.

Like all women, getting older is not something looked forward to with anything other than trepidation. You only have to read Blog 4 to know that women of a certain age are invisible. For me it is slightly worse I guess as I spent a great deal of my 20’s making a lot of money from the way I looked… so it was harsh to look in the mirror and see an old bird looking back. Now I’ve been blessed with skin that doesn’t wrinkle, I have no jowls, bags or any of the 7 signs of aging that you can get a cream for… but that doesn’t stop me looking older. An indefinable something happens that makes people stop calling you a girl or a woman. Suddenly you are ‘the lady’… as in ‘show the lady across the road’. Things you used to handle defeat you… you can’t club till 4am without preparation, a sit down and preferably a nap, You can’t run after something or someone and catch them up… you find yourself saying things your mother said and seeing the wisdom in them. You are middle aged. You are the guardians of those younger and the carers of those older and you are invisible. But just because I couldn’t rock out in a micro mini didn’t mean to say I was no longer around. I suddenly cottoned on to the fact that ONLY by getting older I would know what I want, be emotionally stable and intellectually stimulating. (See Blog 35). The worst of times has freed me from those youthful days of being visible for all the wrong reasons. Life is a non stop make me happy fest now I have put in the years to learn how to keep a smile on my face (and other’s)!

So there I was… reclining on the patio, giving Destiny’s Child no competition at all and waking up the neighbours.

Thought I couldn't breathe without you

I'm inhaling

thought I couldn't see without you

Perfect vision

thought I couldn't last without you

But I'm lastin'

thought that I would die without you

But I'm livin'

Thought that I would fail without you

But I'm on top

Thought it would be over by now

But it won't stop

Thought that I would self destruct

But I'm still here

Even in my years to come

I'm still gonna be here

So come on then… join me in the chorus…..

I'm a survivor (What?)

I'm not gonna give up (What?)

I'm not gonna stop (What?)

I'm gonna work harder (What?)

I'm a survivor (What?)

I'm gonna make it (What?)

I will survive (What?)

Keep on survivin' !!!!!!

I have a feeling that if my mate Chaz Dickens were with us right now… he’d be singing along too… cause if any one knew that the worst of times are the best of times… he did.

JaxWorld has been nominated for ‘Best Blog about Stuff’ in the Bloggers Choice Awards. If you enjoy this blog please vote for it using the following link:

http://bloggerschoiceawards.com/blogs/show/80516?load=comments