Laura-Jasmin Nuttall (Mama L)
Hey hey! My name is Laura, and I like to write about things people don't want to write about.
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The Village is Dead Because it's All About Me
Social media has [un]intentionally bred a generation of narcissists that have taken positivity to the very edge of toxicity, in the name of self-love and self-acceptance. We love ourselves so much that we have become overtly self-absorbed and the pandemic has only driven this further.
A Week Full of Signs
I saw a polar bear in the clouds, with the sun shining behind. We were driving down old roads covered in potholes. We took a corner and there I saw the sight - it was; a polar bear in the sky, made out of white clouds, with one paw slightly raised, gliding across a sunset in February, covering the cool orange sun rays. We take another corner and of course we lost sight of the polar bear. We got home from our journey, cooked dinner, and went to bed - the usual stuff.
To Write or Not to Write?
To write or not to write? That is indeed the question. I know don't tell me - cliche or what? Yet, have you ever had that feeling where: you want to write but also don't want to? It's as if, you aren't quite in the realm of writer's block but you're not exactly in the free flow of creativity either, it just feels like you're stuck, like Niflheim or purgatory.
I’m so fucking tired
I'm so fucking tired of the internet and staring at the same four walls. I wake up way before my alarm yet I still never change it. I always grab my phone first mindlessly checking my socials and stats, scrolling through the same old bullshit. I'm sick of living in what feels like Groundhog Day. I watch the sunrise, I see the sunset. I watch the fog disappear in the morning and the darkness that settles in for the night. Every day I take note of the Willow tree directly outside our home. I've watched in bloom in the summer, transform in the autumn, die in the winter, and be reborn again in the spring. Yet I remain the same - always.
To See You Again
If walls could talk what would they say? I am always here night and day - I live in a land frozen in time underground in an abandoned mine. These tunnels have been empty for years the quiet stays in the canals of the tinniest ears. I have never seen the sunlight, and have never felt the rain. Oh, what I would do to see peoples’ faces again. I miss the small lamps, the hard work and chipping, the horses pulling carts full of yellow stone to make a living. Occasionally a spider might come along that I may befriend, I’d let it decorate me with webs but sadly, it moves on and I am alone again.