Mandy Small

Mandy Small is the main  character in Jean Ure’s children’s novel ‘Fruit and Nutcase’. This is dedicated to her growing up.

I’m not proofreading this post. 
I used to try to be in touch with myself once. I used to take out time to be alone, take out time to pray, write…anything. 
Then after that i guess was the phase when everything became too real and taking out time to be alone didn’t feel as good as it did before. I’d try but then all i’d feel was pain. The time to “be alone” wasn’t exactly about being alone anymore it meant facing the pain of everything i was going through. Songs and prayers became tears until I found a way out. 

Or not really. 
I became someone else. Being alone meant being busy…i couldn’t just “be” anymore. It had to be technology or friends. Noise. Some type of noise…any type of noise was fine. I morphed into someone that didn’t have any pain as much as i could. I morphed into somebody “normal”. Somebody that had left the last two stages behind. Somebody trying new things and craving and looking for new experiences. Somebody I never knew i’d become. 
Maybe she was always there…I wouldn’t know. Maybe she was looking for an opportunity to come out and stop feeling and detach from reality. I don’t know. 

This new person doesn’t really care anymore or is so used to pretending not to that she doesn’t know where to stop. This new person can’t talk to God because everything is too complex now. 

This new person is lost. Lost in doing anything. Anything other than feeling. 
She doesn’t bother telling the world because nobody understands. She’ll tell people that really want to know because they’re curious…but not everything…never everything…only a little.  
She doesn’t ever want to become one of those dramatic i-need-attention girls that are always looking for sympathy. She’s over her past (till it haunts her when she’s thinking about how she got here) and feels everyone should be too. She’s over whatever may be happening in her personal life. 

She’s over herself.  
She’s over her past, present and future. 
So she’s here…pretending and being. 
Until she calls home… and everything falls to pieces again. Only momentarily anyways. She’ll be back to pretending again.  

6th day of May 2015.


You want colour don’t you?
Different kinds  

A permanent smile carved into my face 

A me that can be poured out, chewed on, spat out  

A me sitting, listening not talking  

A me soft inside and out  

Colourful packaging

See through so you know what’s in my head-  

Cute little bears happy to be clumped together 


Your puerile mind is utterly fascinating  

I’m enamoured by it all the time  

I try to tell you with my eyes  

But you never seem to understand 

That I’m a being out of science-fiction  

A web spun out of your worst fears 

I’m a mass of endless contradictions  

I am not a gummy bear 🙂 


He will leave you

Leave your smile

Leave every bit of “us” behind

He will call another your name

And look at her just the same

He will leave the him you knew  

He will leave you wondering where he went

He’ll evolve into someone better or worse  

He might miss you or leave the memories of you cursed

When he does 

You’ll be forced to stare at you again

At your imperfections, your thoughts, your essence 

Left with the you you hated

After the clouds are taken away…you’ll be forced to look…at you 

At the demon or angel you created  

At your self love or self hatred  

At places untravelled, things unlearnt, broken pieces

He will leave you

And you and you will be together again.


Speak of places devoid of beauty

Of rot and mould engulfing the mind

Speak of the dalliance of scents

Putrid and sweet collide leaving you sick

Speak of the laws of a thousand years

That leave dust on your mind and soul

Speak of threadbare sheets

Of insects that eat your heart and skin

Speak dear child speak

To rid yourself of all the demons

Because it’s 1984 in 2015

And Big Brother has evolved.