Mesmerised By Old Moss Side

St Bees St the corner of Denmark Rd. I’m quoting Miss Gail Allott tonight. Gail Allott: ‘Linda Brogan and Barrie George I completely get it when Barrie says he's in shock and that he didn't know he is so articulate When I have written comments and seen people react to them I truly feel blessed It's like minded people coming together sharing their thoughts. Because we're like minded people we just get it, we get what each other is trying to express, to say, to portray and with a true rawness. A rawness that we have lived and experienced but we are now able to share those experiences and that true rawness of those experiences with people who have not a clue about this other world completely out of their lives experience. Strange to think that some people have never stepped out of their comfort zone yet at the same time others were searching for theirs. I am so grateful for this opportunity to express myself but more importantly the fact that other people respect and appreciate my expressing myself.’ #excavatingthereno #therenolive

Well Gail you always say lengthy wonderful things that I feel should have lengthy wonderful replies so I think before I answer you. I’ve been thinking for a few days now. But boy all I can say is this: it is Goddamn wonderful to hear. We shouldn’t have an opinion. We shouldn’t want an opinion, us who have been searching for our comfort zone all our life. That my dear is the most wonderful term you use. And fucking sublime, the way you turn it on its head. Jealous. In fact as the professional writer here, I am regularly put to shame by the fantastic poets amongst us. And when I say that it makes me feel proud.

We share a history. We share a bottom line. We have a heart. We have wonder. We love our past. We have a story to tell. That doesn’t feed some middle class fucker’s mortgage. A story that is simply about us. The way we remember it. Without a cause. Without an issue. Just like they enjoy. They can tell a story about their dinner party that can become a play for the next 200 hundred fucking years. Well we might not have fucking dinner parties. Well we might. But we had events in our life. And just like we don’t tell them we don’t believe it went down like that. And oh, there must have been a hidden agenda. Now we are in the driving seat. And our shit went down like this. And nobody can tell us it didn’t. Cos we are talking to each other now. And we know our shit.

Watch our faces in this video: our innocent wonder looking back at our past in photos. Our streets. Our history. Without some middle class fucker telling us we have to see it a certain way. It just is what it is. Just like theirs just is what it is. We don’t try to farm theirs. And this time round we’re gonna harvest ours for us.

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