Monday 5 November 2018

The only way is Up-date

Just to explain: I took my weekend blogpost down as I realised it was more a chapter in a book than blogpost, and that book is yet to be fully lived and written. Pre-court, I need to focus instead on preparing the paper work for 3.5 days of trial - it's a part time job being one's own solicitor at this stage, but given getting a #1975InheritanceAct Case to court costs many tens of thousands of pounds, and there is no pro-bono or legal aid, saving costs (and what a cost! - you might well ask) by doing as much as one can oneself, is the way forward. You can see why people get away with bullying people out of their inheritances: the costs, financial and stressful are enormous. Grit and determination are essential. If you love money, don't bother, you might spend any potential inheritance before you arrive. But if you're tackling the root of all evil, and you have the stomach for putting your money where your justice toting mouth is, go for it! But make sure you have your ShitStorm helmet on.

I see this case as a further and final act of abuse: a white collar crime overseen by black collar workers. Presumably, the keepers and overseers of my share of my mother's family inheritance think that it's appropriate to pilfer the wealth of other people's families and then crow about it to the people they have stolen from. However, I need to get well, reign my pen (mighty as that pen may be, wink emoji) and focus on the sword wielding process of justice, as long as this twisty-turny road may be. And to be frank the fiddlers on the hoof are aided by inheritance law that, in my view, desperately needs some adjusting, so there are no guarantees apart from my own faith. I've never been one to take injustice lying down however - and therein lies all the trouble. The trouble that will just not go away - my spirit is the same one that was in the teenaged girl that stood up to apartheid and the South-African police. But then, they don't know who I am. They have their own made up version of Emily the Stranger (I've read their 'witness' statements).

I'm sweeping away the house of cards that symbolises my former family and I have to be careful that the dust is not allowed to settle and that Disney-style, the cards don't resurrect. Given the defendants keep delaying this case getting to court, I have no idea when this case is going to be heard and now too, my chemo will now need to be factored in (are they hoping it will never get there?) but I hope that Gloucester Court will not endure the farce for much longer, so that we can all go our separate ways for good - in my case anyway. Not sure if they grasp the meaning of the word 'good' except in it's 'bye' role. Meantime, I need to focus on the paperwork and sweeping away the cobwebs. I'm focussing on light, love, joy, laughter and healing and there is all of this and more in abundance in my life. I have been overwhelmed by the many messages of love and support that have been coming in from all over the world since I have begun to speak about what I have been going through these past few years - from dear friends, to readers to people I have hardly known/don't know in person who are telling me what me/my writing has meant to them. It's all very encouraging and up uplifting. I can see why people bare their bones.

Oh, and of course I am still laughing. Any friends are making me laugh out loud, from jokes about fros and pain reducing spliffs (thanks Stu) to a dear friend of mine from Perth's joke stream. Oh, and one of my favourite writers, #MaryKarr, liked one of my tweets today. Cuh-rush! A QC I admire followed me, and I realised that some of my stage work will be developed into a musical (a rock one, not a jazz hands one). There is much to look forward to. #Eminem carries the theme of the day. Love that dude - what a sharp poet. Where's my scalpel? I mean broom - here's Eminem: -