personal rebellion

Devil's Dust

Please note: this piece contains strong language

smoke it, snort it, jag or toot it

soon u canny live withoot it

such heaven becomes an unbearable nightmare

those track marks wont leave your arms bare

its takin ages to find a vein

fuck off monkey, gonny leave me alane

mass produced to feed the masses

of west scotlands predominant working classes

then you've got your anti-smack brigade

thinking their on a futuristic vigilante crusade

citric, filter, spoon, spike, tournie n that brown powder

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The Glee Challenge

Once upon a time,
When I thought I’d never rhyme,
I saw a challenge known as Glee,
My friends said to leave it be. 

I wondered why they began to protest,
What’s wrong with dancing and singing, it’s the best!
Some weeks later, after Christmas Songs,
We started to practise for the Glee, where I belonged. 

We won the contest, I was so pleased,
To the finals we’d go hoping we wouldn’t sneeze,
If we had won we’d be crowned Scottish Winners,
But unfortunately, no luck even with a nice dinner. 

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When Rose cut open her hand to distract herself from her exams, her parents saw the wound and cried and took it and her to hospital. There the doctor peered down at it, patched it up, and sent Rose with a note to a nurse standing in a vault of pharma boxes, who gave her antiseptic and instructions and discharged her with the condition that she take home this form and fill it out. The first page had been easy. The form said “?” and Rose said “Rose, 17, Scotland, Etc.” The form looked kind of sceptical. But it carried on, and on page 2 in a rush it said “Q.

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The Story of My Life

I was one of those kids
who had to challenge the boundaries
and my parents said
“You will rue the day”
I just said
“Aye right, so I will’
trying to sound a bit cocky
I did it my way! 

I had my first son at seventeen
left on my own
nobody wanted to know
not even my parents
They said “hell mend you
we told you so”
But I still did it anyway
The more I did it
the more I got into
the wrong relationships 

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‘And you?’ Raisha’s eyes were warm, generous, drunk. I smiled with a closed mouth, sensing the edge of something. ‘Did you rebel?’

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Galileo's Boy

The knife? It was right there on the table. But it wasn’t my fault. It took me years to make the cut.

It was my mum you see. She wanted us to be that wee bit better than everybody else. We had the end block in the terrace, nice garden, and our dad was always in work. A decent, hard-working family in a nice wee council scheme in the country: idyllic you’d think.

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“The Nigerian Air Force launched a bombing raid today targeting the Oji River Power Station. Ten square miles around the station has been razed and the operation is being hailed as a great success.”

This report was transmitted on the BBC World News from Lagos, five hundred miles west of Oji River. As locals, we knew it was propaganda and a form of fake news.

“How come a young Scot is married to a Nigerian and living in Oji River?” I hear you ask.

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In games, we played Murderball, a prehistoric form of rugby with very few rules. There were two blue crash mats, two teams facing off against each other and a large brown peeling medicine ball. The aim was to move the weighted sphere to the opposite end and it didn’t matter how this was done. No laws of engagement existed, until one day, we weren’t allowed to play at all. A fellow pupil broke his collarbone, having been flipped mid-tackle.

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For Rebel, So little time, such an impact

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Airchie - Rebel of the North

“Here we are now,” says the driver. He puts on the handbrake and switches off the engine of the furniture van.

“There you are!” shouts Fraser. “I’d given you up. This is your home now.”

And so it is that in this early spring day the Fraser’s, now in their working clothes, settle into the cottage. Here, long ago, the painted men looked south towards Finavon Hill, where they fought the Romans. But now, the children roam about all over the place, even as far as Drumlithie and the sweetie shop.

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