Author Archives: C.J. Birch
The best natural state in which to be.
The beginning of self-acceptance; a measure of your intrinsic value, an indication of your inherent worth on planet Earth.
When you remain true to yourself, your standard measure – that is, your unconditional acceptance of your fallible ‘self’- is your indelible reference.
Living according to a fraudulent reference – whether bought, ‘borrowed’ or stolen – is futile in every respect.
Complement; not ‘compliment’
Somebody once said that imitation is the greatest compliment.
They were wrong.
When every imitation of the inimitable has been a piss-poor misrepresentation executed by myriad greedy fraudsters, covetous wannabees and soulless degenerates whose sole purpose has been to sabotage the progression of an aptitude more natural in its every aspect than their every stolen breath, more exacting in its every expression than their every pillaged ‘prediction’ and more beneficial in its every application than their every bought ‘blessing’ – then the full complement of those ‘compliments’ is an insult.
They are the sort of insults that without any ado, whatsoever, are quite naturally redispatched to their hatcheries.
Filed under blogs
I was born on Thursday 13th July 1972 in Harare, Zimbabwe, to an English father and a South African mother. I was christened Catherine Jane Birch and – from the outset – I’ve been inquisitive about most of life’s elemental questions; its myriad paradoxes and unpredictable anomalies, their sources, solutions and their propensity for unmitigated change. From a very young age I was captured by the enigmatic life process, the challenge of living and what it ‘means’ to be alive.
I spent countless invaluable hours in nature, watching the world at its work. I had a fascination for everything around me, curious about what things were, how and why they worked, what they represented in relation to one another.
I began writing at the age of 5. Journals, stories and poetry, illustrations, have been a constantly evolving source of quiet self-reflection, expansive expression throughout my life.
I’m fortunate to have travelled many miles, to have visited a variety of differing destinations and though I’ve learned a lot about life in the last 50 years, my questions about its complexities are neverending.
I currently live in the south-east of England, having recently returned to the United Kingdom after a particularly harrowing period of 7 allegedly ‘invisible’ or ‘non-existent’ years of hell in Kwazulu Natal, South Africa.
My 13-year-old son lives in Switzerland, where he attends school.
Blog No. Fir St.
Orientation is – for the most part – something to do with where you were, where you are – and the why of those both.
The inbetween that there might perchance happenstance to be – of which there may be no specific coordinates, or recollection – is immaterial when you are where you chance upon happening to find yourself where you should.
Measuring mettle and all that black cutlery calling the crockery crooked (by way of complementing the return of the back-handed slap-compliment) is the price for piggy-backing the Sphinx in any instance.
Anybody worth their fettering knows that, particularly those who don’t know where or wheren’t they were, or weren’t, going in the first place.
Blog Number None: Once Upon the Future Dream of the Present Tense That Never Was
And once upon an ever-Mañana that never came, I might have the equipment I require to blog on something other than an Android.
Maybe … although having asked so many times for what is mine to be returned to me (my computer, my earnings, etc) so I can continue my work in conditions more conducive to cultivating the necessary motivation to do so – and having been fake-promised so many times that such would indeed be the case, maybe not …
Have a nice day.
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