Sheridan

Biography

I starting going to WOL in Stockport when I was 17! I found it helped me along with expressing my feelings into words when I was going through, a challenging time in my life.. I stopped going, for no particular reason, it just happened.. I decided to re visit 6 years on, and loved it.. I have left my work on here from all those years back.. Maybe I'll add some new stuff soon..

Samples

-IS THERE SUCH A THING- Is there such thing as a person falling asleep without reminiscing the deep? You see this place we give our presence to rarely ever seems to favour us or stay true, only to that selected few. In each second of the day we find strength within to wind our selves together and carry on, its just as dusk falls and we become focus free that our minds flow, unwind after staying so confined, everything comes to a sudden recgonition , it tangles together creating an unimaginable, unstoppable ball of rollin fire held together by tangled flames. Its then when reality hits us, this world isnt an easy place, its hard and doesnt resume without a fight, theres haters to forget about, complicated decisions that need sorting out, we need to carry on when we are forced to erase the ones out we feel we cant be without, because life goes on just maybe in the way we dont want it to. What few of our people do not realise is that this world gives out zero fairy tale endings, just problems what are in need of mendings, which are caused by nobody but our people, not by fate, not by god, but by you and by me. Dont get me wrong good happenings are bound to come along, However they come at a cost, its like creating lyrics for a song, youve got a pen along with a pad packed full of empty pages and they are left for you and only you to fill, you are sure to make mistakes along the way, youll cross them out and your gonna scream and shout, take a step fpward, a step back but youll eventually rephrase your lines and itll all seem to work out, just be ready for your next challenge to shout out! -SEVENTEEN RACE HORSES- Seventeen race Horses closed off from the lengthy track ahead, as the gun blows the strong steel gates fly open and the race is on, just not for one. She tries to go, but just can’t, She fights to go, but doesn’t succeed, something holds her back, something what’s not a part of her. People from behind shout miss understandingly, the one race Horse feels alone and isolated, Nobody from behind can understand why she can’t go, yet still they continue to shout. The one race Horse screams back but nobody can understand her words of truth, She calls to her friends hoping they’ll understand, but they carry on running, not looking back, not wanting to lose their focus. Nobody calls back to the one race Horse, She is alone. She continues the fight to be free, She struggles to move forward, She panics and shies side to side, Her heart beat thumps inside of her head, Her eyes go blind with panic, and her breath is forced but fast. She soon begins to realise such hectic behaviour doesn’t solve her problems. As her heartbeat softens, her breath calms, she reconnects with the world around her. The one Horse doesn’t have the energy to carry on fighting for her freedom, She blocks out what surrounds her and feels her outer body sink in, Her heart beat becomes an echo, the breeze carries away her breath. How could she possibly break free from what holds her back? -THE WORD WEIRD- How would you define the word weird? Maybe somebody who is different from the majority of people should be classed as a weird person? You see i personally think the word weird shouldnt have existence, Its used in such pointess ways, towards those who arent scared to follow them selves, and its used by the people who should be classed as nobodies, the ones who dont know their true selves so follow others. As i walk through the overcrowding places, i look around and see so many different faces, but below the faces you see thousands of clones, all using the same type of fones, wearing the same style of shoe and moddeling the same style of clothes. I look upon these people with pitty because they all think theyre overly pretty, when really all they do is fit in but in order to do this they have to sacrafice their soul within. To be yourself aint all that easy, its comes at a cost whats caused by those pople who are lost, I hate the looks they give you, its as though theyre disgusted with an individual style, I just want to shout out and sometimes run a mile to get away from the feeling of been hated by strangers who cant see past looks it makes me feel so small and sometimes silly inside but i just sigh, carry on walking with my head held high, cos i know my soul aint ever gonna die.

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