Burger and a few cocktails

his

I am merely a shadow
passing on through

lost in the memory

memory of you

__________________

Drowning in darkness

with no hope to aim higher

destroyed by the damned

no more spark, no more fire.

_____________________________

Punished for a voice that I was brave enough to have.
Tormented and tortured for letting happiness in.

Vindicated by a world that was never mine

pulled down by his ultimate sin

Love is an illusion, for that broken man

And the clocks tick on, this life is short on time

I gave out my heart and my hope, did all that I can.

_________________________________________________

I can't just click my fingers, though I have tried.

I have lost count of the sleepless nights, of which I have cried.

Of the digs, and the lies, and never an answer to find.

But I give up being good, what is the point?

I'm only ever going to just constantly lose this fight.

And I am wandering around, lost and terrified.

I don't know him, I don't even know my own mind.

A Liar, a Friend, a Manipulator? 

I don't even know.

P.S, sorry for the shortage of posts... Been busy packing, moving, training etc. Fingers crossed, I'll eventually be able to move to Wales within the next few years - so that the people who have hurt me never have that chance to do so again!

Sometimes, it really is just easier to run away.

Diwali, Beech Caves, and thoughts!

Been wearing a lot of purple lately! Love bows and flowers in
my hair!

So, it was Diwali yesterday. I got a few presents, which is pretty cool. Diwali for us is more of a tradition than an actual religious festival. Don't get me wrong, it's cool to be colourful and have that form of variation.
Ideally, you're supposed to have the women cook for the men, and the men return it with gifts - usually in the way of clothing. 
However, this is the U.K, and like most religious festivals, though with an underlying of faith, it's become more of a gift giving event.
I got a fencing helmet - to go with the fencing swords I got for my birthday. My weapon collection is forever growing.
I also got a little figure, and some paints! And an outside acrylic painting set!
Which makes the artistic side in me get excited with creativity. It's been a while since I've painted any actual figures, to be honest, so it will be interesting to see how my ability picks up after such an absence.

It's one life, and it really is the reputation you leave behind -  if it's a reputation of nothing but lies, then what are you really if not just a collection of shadows?
I'm glad I'm not a collection of shadows.
And I'm glad that I feel hurt because it means that I am capable of feeling love.

This is the bridge you cross over from the Trentham Estate park
to the A514!

You should see a lot of this on the way!

I took a walk up Beech Caves yesterday. Surprisingly not as difficult to get to as I thought it would be.
Going past the Trentham estate, to the back part where all the trees are, a quick ten-minute hike up there and then down the other side, across a bridge and then a twenty-minute walk down some country lanes and Wallah - they're just there, randomly, kind of misplaced actually!

To be more specific, you go past St Marys Church, and enter Trentham Park. Stick to the path on the left, and follow it up the hill. You should see a gated off lake on the right, and go past the Kingswood Woods on the left. You should hit a high point and be able to observe a lot of the area, you'll notice the M6 down the other side of the wooded hill, and you walk towards there. Going over the bridge, you'll hit the A519, continue to walk down this for about 8 minutes, and you'll come across a turning called Beechcliff Lane. Now you can turn down there, and walk that way. This way
includes taking a turning to the right just before

I really love this new beanie, I swear I wear them because it's
cold and not because of Coldplay! Honest!

hitting the farm shop, and going past a house on the right. Walk this downhill route for about six minutes, and you'll notice that the lane goes into a pedestrian access route which follows behind the Beechcliff Sawmills, and sticks to the right of the M6. Walk this public footpath route and you'll come up to the Beech Caves just sitting there on the left. However, you can also access them by continuing along the A519 for about eight more minutes, walking past some quite beautiful looking houses! As soon as you see a countrylane (on the left) called Beechdale Lane, go down it, about 4 minutes later, you will see the Beech Caves on the right!

There are various ways to get to the place, though in the countryside, the national walking routes make it fairly simple to access. If you're                                                                                        into a lot of walking that is....

And here we go! This is the front view! 

I was a little disappointed if I'm honest. I was expecting to be taken aback by some great caves or something, but it wasn't really that riveting.
There have been some local tales about the place being haunted, but it didn't even have a spooky feel to it. I love the idea of hauntings and things like that, but it was really underwhelming.
Don't get me wrong, there was a great feel of history within the building, and a lot of geological interest, so it was still titillating.
It's said that the cave was a result of stone being mined out to aid in the building of

From the inside of the cave looking out toward the entrance.

Trentham Hall all the way back in 1633. Prior to that, it was simply a red sandstone cliff.  Apparently, it was marked down on old maps as a mere quarry, until centuries later it was actually recognised as 'Beech Caves'. Rumour has is it that there was a lot of commotion about the place during the Second World War. It was that time of which locals believe that it was either being used as a base for the American soldiers positioned at Trentham, or being used to store ammunition. Another theory is that it housed the records of local weapon owners as a means to protect them should the Germans have invaded. There was an ammunition factory not far off located in, I think, Swynnerton, so that's also quite possible. Either way, it was heavily secured and not

At the entrance, looking in.

accessible to the general public. Over the years it has fallen into slight disarray, during the 80s and 90s being used for raves. There's suspicion of it being used for satanic worship, but I find it hard to believe in fairness. There are three farm houses within a short walking distance, it's hardly the most secluded. There's no actual record of any of the deaths that locals say to have happened there - including drug overdoses, or suicides. 

I read in the local paper about someone going in there with a spirit box, it all seems like hogwash to be honest. Knowing my luck, that comment will have angered the almighty gods and I'll be stalked by paranormal phenomena

Looking out towards the holes on the right hand side.

from now on! However, I felt nothing even slightly frightening about the place. You know how some places actually have that chill to them, that sort of on edge feeling about them? Well, nothing. It smelt of earth on the inside, and was littered with fireworks, and alcohol bottles though. So there was some remainder of 'spirits' there, just not the Forteana sort! However, it is still a beautiful piece of both nature and history!

The cave itself has actual brickwork built into it, to reinforce the structure and keep the cave from -ahem- caving I would assume. It appears to hold more brickwork than actual cave stone though. Like most abandoned places of historical interest, it's also covered in colourful graffiti, as well as colourful language - oh urban art, how we love you so! 

Like usual, I took some photos of the adventure:

Through the Trentham Park woods

The country lane leading up the caves!

The country lane leading down to the caves

I was just so happy to be out in the country!

Did I mention that I love the countryside? These are the trees up on the bank near the caves!

"What are Ewe looking at?" I said as I passed the farm shop. 

This was the little cave bit on the right side of the entrance.

I was just so relived I'd made it to the caves without getting lost!

To the left of the entrance.

Further by the left of the caves.

The Trentham woods.

Up the right of the caves - leading to the top of the cliff.

Did I mention that I really love the outdoors?

I have been saying for literally over a year that I've been wanting to go to Beech Caves, and I'm glad I finally did. It's amazing what actually exploring your interests can do, it makes a change to locking myself indoors feeling like I'd just be 'getting a rise' out of someone if I actually went out and lived my life!

I have to say I came back legs aching, and extremely hungry, which is a sign of a good walk!

True Horror vs. Fictional Horror

Been watching a lot of Netflix lately. It's always the most boring of times, waiting inbetween jobs. I know I should probably be studying Greek or French,  but I've just been researching local history, instagramming, and binging on TV shows.
One of the things I've been watching lately is Goosebumps, an all time childhood favourite. I was reminiscing with a friend, the other day, about how I used to read the books as a child. I had a lot of those 'Choose your own adventure' ones, and every time I'd pick a chapter that resulted in the death of my character, I'd just go back and pick a different chapter, and keep picking them until I found a happy ending.


I wish life was like that.

I wish it was possible to just go back in time and do things differently. I wish I could have avoided working in a place that seems to be better fitted for a thriller movie. 
But then I look at all the skills I've acquired, all the things I've learned, and maybe there was a purpose to it after all.

It just seems like I'm trying to force myself to get better, before I've really had chance to comprehend all that has happened.

The most frightening thing was being in an ambulance, and feeling guilty because of it. Feeling like a horrid person. 

Sometimes I did like to roll a die in
order to choose between chapters though.

But life isn't like a book, we can't choose our chapters, we can't go back. Only learn, or at least that's what we tell ourselves. Sometimes I feel like we're bound more by morals, and social expectations than we are by our actual emotions. It's so easy to convince ourselves we don't feel things, because the world would frown upon us if we did. Humanity, hey -  the ability to love, and the ability to hurt. I do feel like I've grown, a few years ago I'd have been full of loathing at this point. Probably bitching about things to everyone. But now, besides blogging, I don't really talk to anyone about it. And when anyone tries to badmouth someone, I'm quick to defend them. Where once, I was so quick to jump and attack people, I now try to be more understanding. But then, I'm an adult now.
With the stress of bills, and jobs, and chores, and dogcare, it's really a wonder how I have any time to feel heartache at all. But I guess, even with a busy mind, the heart doesn't just turn off.

I think a lot of people keep themselves busy as a means of avoidance, but the moment they have a second to think - it hits them.

This one was particularly horrifying! 

It's amazing how life can put forward so many monsters, and throw so many complex obstacles in the way of happiness. Growing up, my biggest fear was whether a ventriloquist dummy was going to kill me, or whether aliens were going to abduct me. Now I'm aware that the monsters we read about in things like Shivers and Goosebumps don't exist in the way they're presented in those stories. In a way, the things I read as a child could easily form a basis for nowadays, in a metaphorical stance. I may not have been pursued by a dummy, but it felt for a long time that people were trying to control me, and then kill me off when I fought back. Maybe that's a slight dramatic, but with anxiety, the slightest knock back can feel bad, so when serious things happen it really does feel like torture. Though, I used to fear being abducted by aliens, I now fear someone trying to abduct me or rob me, or attempt to run me over by their car. I think, as a child, the idea of being abducted by aliens wasn't really that frightening over all. I thrive off adventure, and I used to fantasize about running away and discovering new things, learning new things, educating myself, etc. 

In fairness I am convinced that this guy is
clearly Zoltan!

I know too much about the most unusual of things. I could rant off about religion for hours. I could be going for a walk with someone and just randomly feel the urge to burst out in information about the history of a landmark we just walked past. History is in its own way a path of weaves - the butterfly effect, and all that. I used to read way too much as a child, lock myself away and read. One particular book, Emily Climbs, depicted the story of a young girl who would narrate her life in writings - everything from heartbreaks to career progression. I think that set the stone that encouraged me to always write about my feelings. It's only recent that I've decided to publish it, but I've always written up my thoughts. Books like Jane Eyre, Frankenstein, Dracula, and Harry Potter - all conveniently belonging to the Gothic genre, taught me to look outside the box for things.

Suddenly vampires were hot...

Jane Eyre: Showed me that it's okay to follow your heart, regardless of the social commentary and
judgement you may get it. It also taught me that it's okay to love a monster - Mr Rochester treated his first wife terribly, but Jane Eyre still saw a good in him. She saw past the guise of darkness, bitterness, and cruelty. 

Frankenstein: Showed me how important it is to love the monsters we create. In life we go around hurting people, and then for some reason reject them when they react to our hurt. Frankenstein wanted so desperately for success that he went about it in the most corrupt of ways, and it caused a lot of hurt. Again, that taught me that people will do that. They will be selfish, but eventually the devastation will catch up, and that's why it's important to remain fair and understanding

Dracula: Taught me that the obsession with love can drive to murder, the urge to control and contain people, rather than let them be free and happy. I think, we've all at some point wanted to also lock ourselves away in a castle, away from people because we feel judged and alone. I think there's actually quite
a lot that can be taken from that one story alone.

Harry Potter: Taught me that it's okay to have bushy brown hair, and an intellectual mind, and that one day the person inside may come to the surface and to those that matter - you will be beautiful.

Two of those novels also had me hooked on the unknown, the unexplained. Alongside watching cheesy classics like Monster Squad and Lost Boys, I was researching religions, mythology, history and the paranormal. How, and Why things happen greatly intrigues me. But I also then became afraid of spontaneous human combustion. If only I'd realised that the bigger danger in life is burning up with emotion and desire. 

But I guess emotion, desire, concern, and care are just reminders of how human we all are. People deal with grief, and heartache in different ways. 
Getting angry at myself for not 'being okay' and just 'getting over' things isn't going to do any good. 

... Oh, how I really wish life was like one of those books.

But then who'd actually choose a chapter that would land on me? 

Until the next time, Over & Out! 

Falcon Works factory (local history)

So today, I went on an adventure into the old Falcon Works factory (J H Weatherby & Sons)

Interestingly, there appears to be a few Falcon Pottery factories within the area, one in Stoke, one in Longton, and one in Hanley. Despite sharing the same (Falcon) name, they appear to not be connected in any other way. 

The Falcon Works factory is across from The Church, a beautiful bar and restaurant that is set in the quirky setting of an actual old church. 

Clambering through a hole in the wall and onto an old oven, I made my way through the the remainder of what is left of a great building with a strong stance in the local pottery industry. 
From what my research has enabled me to discover, it would seem that this particular factory was opened up in 1892, in order to support the growing expansion and popularity that the earthenware had gained. There was an original, much smaller, factory in Tunstall in the year prior. 

This particular earthenware is recognised by the stamp of the name 'J H W & Sons' or simple 'Weatherby'. Over the years, the pottery gained a lot of recognition - but what else can be expected from a factory that is indeed based in the essential capital of pottery making (The Potteries). However, come to the year 2000, and the demand for the earthenware had diminished. This was the year that marked the closing down of the factory, and the manufacturing  of this particular earthenware. Despite this, the pottery still remains a classic sought out by historians and collectors, and as a result some of the pottery can in fact be found on ebay. 

The actual site has been left in a state of decay, with the roof falling through, and shattered pottery littering the ground and blocking up staircases.  Though, I didn't get a chance to photograph it, the kiln, that once played a pragmatic part to the running of the factory, is a listed building.

On entering the building, I was hit with the sight of graffiti covered walls. Carefully watching my step, I progressed through the doors that led into open spaces, full of historical wonder.

Venturing towards the outside, on the way to seek out a way to get to the first floor, the scenery was awash with shattered pottery. It was an interesting notion to ponder what it would have been like for the hundreds of workers that had walked the same route, and marched up those stairs. It's absolutely remarkable to just be so aware of the history that the building hosts memories of, and how it has helped play a part in the present day.

We made it all the way to a second floor, before deciding to go back, and get out of there. Needless to say, such a historical building comes with it's own element of excitement. The slightest creak, or blowing of wind can certainly make one freak out. It's not only an academically thrilling venture, but also an adrenaline inducing activity. Luckily, there were no Weeping Angels in sight, and I did not have the thrill of becoming a Sally Sparrow, but still it was intriguing none the less!

Later on, a venture into Newcastle via Burslem was had. I found this particular piece of Graffiti enticing. Sadly, however, this particular building was inaccessible.

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