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ukrfeminism · 11 days

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Sadiq Khan says the brutal London murders of four women in three weeks is “absolutely heartbreaking” and vowed to tackle violent crime if given a historic third term.

Police found Kamonnan Thiamphanit, 27, stabbed to death at a £4 million Grade II-listed property on Stanhope Place, Bayswater near Hyde Park around 8.30am on Monday.

Neighbours heard sounds of a loud party on Saturday night at the home being rented out as an Airbnb holiday let, followed by two high-pitched screams the following day.

The Metropolitan Police search for Thiamphanit’s killer continues.

Last Saturday, Kennedi Westcarr-Sabaroche, 25, was discovered dead in a Vauxhall car in Hackney.

The dismembered torso of Sarah Mayhew, 38, was dumped in a Croydon park on April 2.

Goldsmiths College student Zhe Wang, 31, was fatally stabbed in Hither Green, Lewisham on March 20.

A spokesman for the London mayor said: “These murders are absolutely heartbreaking and Sadiq’s thoughts remain with their loved ones at this unimaginably awful time.

“Tackling violence against women and girls is an absolute top priority and that’s why he’s investing in policing and prevention, tackling the causes of these horrific crimes.”

A source close to him added: “The Tory government has imposed £1billion cuts on the Met with a devastating impact on the services that keep women safe.

“By contrast, Sadiq has invested a record £163m on tacking violence against women and girls in London.”

Susan Hall, Mr Khan’s Conservative opponent at the mayoral elections on May 2, said: “My thoughts are with the friends and family of the four women who have been murdered in recent weeks.

“It is truly shocking and heartbreaking.

“Everyone in our city deserves to feel safe, and to be safe, and I am determined to do all I can to reduce crime and make London safer for women.”

Lib-Dem Rob Blackie, another frontrunner, claimed there had been a “failure to tackle violence against women and girls under Sadiq Khan”.

He said: “Clear-up rates for rape and sexual assault have halved since he became mayor. And that is really because there hasn’t been any political attention to the problem.

“Police need the right IT and equipment. We have lost many cases due to freezers used to keep forensic evidence not being up to standard. Very often the same man will commit crimes again and again if you don’t catch them the first time.

“My top priority would be to get more money into the Met by abolishing Khan’s phoney Tube fares freeze. That would put more officers on the front line. We have 6,000 police stuck in back offices, double the number of any force in Britain.”

Commander Owain Richards said in Ms Thiamphanit’s killing there had been no signs of forced entry to the three-storey, five-bedroom terraced house.

Mr Richards added: “We believe the suspect was known to the victim in this case and our homicide detectives are working around the clock to pursue all lines of inquiry to trace the suspect, arrest them and bring them to justice.

“This terrible incident follows a number of other horrific fatal attacks on women recently – including those in Croydon, Hackney and Lewisham.

“We recently shared information about the work we’re doing to tackle violence against women and girls using data-led tactics to target dangerous offenders and bring them to justice.

“Kamonnan’s murder makes us all the more determined in our efforts to do everything we possibly can to keep women and girls safe.”

The Metropolitan Police has referred itself to the Independent Office for Police Conduct watchdog over the incident.

Police were contacted twice on Sunday by a friend concerned about her welfare, but officers attended over 13 hours later.

Pacharapol Padermprach, press secretary of the Royal Thai Embassy in London, told the Standard his community is “shocked and saddened”, adding: “We have been in close contact with the Metropolitan Police on this case and in informing Ms Thiamphanit’s family.

“We are confident that the Met will do its best to bring those responsible to justice.

“Due to the ongoing investigation, we are unable to provide any further information.”

#articles #mvawg

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blackswaneuroparedux · 2 years

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Playing lifts you out of yourself into a delirious place.

- Jacqueline du Pré

Jacqueline du Pré was a brilliant but complex genius whose shyness and vulnerability, particularly in the light of her succumbing to her multiple sclerosis illness, often left her misunderstood. Although her professional career lasted just twelve years, the British musician became a legend in her own lifetime.

Watching old film footage of her you could see her face illuminated by pure inspiration, her long balletic bowing arm, the precision engineering of that wrist, her tremendous long fingers snapping down on the finger board, or executing those heart-stopping slides between notes – what she called her ‘sumptuous glissandi’ – makes you itch to play: her enjoyment remains infectious; everything seems possible.

And For Her it was. She almost makes us forget that, for even the greatest instrumentalists, performing is a continual battle with the body to recreate what the imagination demands. ‘For us mortals, it’s more difficult,’ as her husband Daniel Barenboim commented on a documentary of her life and legacy.

Du Pré’s exceptional talent was nurtured from an early age. Her pianist–composer mother Iris introduced her to a full-size instrument at the age of four and within a year she was attending the London Violoncello School with Alison Dalrymple. Although she was never especially keen on practice, such was her ability that just five years later she was brought to the attention of conductor–cellist John Barbirolli and violist Lionel Tertis, who, having been bowled over by what they heard, had no hesitation in recommending her for a Suggia Gift (a scholarship for young cellists named after the distinguished Portuguese cellist Guilhermina Suggia). This enabled du Pré to fund private lessons with William Pleeth, with whom she studied for seven years and described as ‘an extraordinary teacher, who knew exactly how to guide someone or correct an error with kindness and understanding’.

Following the example of his own mentor Julius Klengel, Pleeth allowed du Pré’s burgeoning musical insights to blossom naturally, though her mercurial personality was quite different from his own. She had a tricky adolescence and it was Pleeth’s sensitive handling of the situation that prevented her from going off the rails. Meanwhile her playing went from strength to strength, including her TV debut in 1959 aged 14, playing the Lalo Concerto. The following year she won the Queen’s Prize – chair of the panel Yehudi Menuhin promptly invited her to play piano trios with him and his pianist sister, Hephzibah – and attended a series of masterclasses with Pablo Casals.

She did not attend a specialist music school, and felt lonely and sometimes alienated at Croydon High School and Queen’s College, which she left aged 15. Any lack of formal education was compensated for by her larger than life personality and infallible intuition, and probably helped her develop her own creativity.

Having made her official professional debut in March 1961 with a dazzling recital at London’s Wigmore Hall, she also made her Proms debut in August 1962 with Malcolm Sargent, playing the work with which her name would become indelibly associated: the Elgar Concerto. Shortly afterwards she spent six months studying with Paul Tortelier at the Paris Conservatoire, and her impeccable cello education was rounded off in 1966 when she went to study with Mstislav Rostropovich in Moscow, by which time she was already a renowned soloist in her own right.

‘The ability to dismiss rules was most important in her music-making’ remarks Wilson, though she also has no doubt that, in the years of her illness, she suffered from having missed out on a broader education. But people underestimated her intelligence at their peril, according to Nupen: ‘Some tended to think her rather fey, and naive.

It’s true, she often didn’t know the day of the week or what things cost, but when it came to the really important matters the depth of her perception was shattering.’ It was she who recognised the importance of the films he started making, and the fact that they could reveal more about their music-making than a concert or recording could.

A description by pianist Fou Ts’ong echoes this: ‘It was such strange combination – such seeming innocence with real earthiness. Daniel used to laugh at her apparent ignorance and disinterest in practical things. “Where is Oslo?” he might ask her, “Is it in Germany?” she would reply… At the same time there was such richness inside her; the fire and the temperament were unbelievable.’

Her understanding of music was so instinctive that it was unnatural for her to approach it with an academic logic or consistency, as cellist Moray Welsh discovered when he embarked with her on an edition of the Elgar Cello Concerto, some years after she had stopped playing: ‘The first thing she said was, “We must scrub out Elgar’s marking of nobilemente!” I explained that we couldn’t do that, but she was determined to make her stamp by flouting this convention (though that was exactly how she played it).

Du Pré’s captivating presence and larger-than-life musical personality made her a natural exponent of the concerto repertoire. Her ability to weave a compelling emotional narrative through the classics of the 19th-century Romantic era helped bring then-neglected scores such as the Schumann and Lalo concertos into the performing mainstream. Like her former mentor Paul Tortelier, she believed that music was above all about feelings and that it was her responsibility to reveal to an audience the composer’s inner soul. As a result she could sound hemmed-in on occasion by music that sits on a knife-edge between structural absolutism and expressive power, such as the sonatas of Beethoven and Brahms. When working alongside players of equal stature, she was also a fine chamber music exponent. For du Pré, technique was a facilitator rather than an end in itself. Close inspection of filmed performances reveals a player blessed with exceptional right- and left-hand coordination, making continual microadjustments of bow angle, weight and pressure to enhance the music’s expressive profile.

‘She had a capacity to imagine sound such as I never met in any other musician,’ Barenboim reflected in later life. ‘She did not know what it was to have technical difficulties or what it meant to play safe.’ Du Pré’s tone was unveiled and direct yet infinitely varied, as though she were revealing an instrument’s natural colours in pristine condition. She played with the same clarity and openness throughout the range, enhancing the lower register with a captivating litheness and immediacy, as though a sonic veil had been lifted.

More than any other player of her generation, du Pré imparted to the cello a sense of interpretative fantasy and bracing technical freedom invariably associated with the violin. Pieces she had played hundreds of times would spring to life as if she were discovering its special qualities for the first time. At her finest she created the impression she was improvising each work as she went along. She embraced her audiences with an emotional vibrancy and generosity that made them feel a vital part of the re-creative process.

If a surfeit of musical instinct and spontaneity can be considered a weakness, then du Pré had a tendency on occasion to focus on short-term expressive intensity at the expense of long-term structural imperatives.

From 1961 du Pré played a bold-voiced 1673 Stradivari cello (later owned by Lynn Harrell and Nina Kotova). Keen to find an instrument with a mellower sound, in 1964 she acquired the 1712 ‘Davidov’ Stradivari, courtesy of her godmother Ismena Holland. This greatly enhanced the range of colours she commanded, as can be savoured on her classic 1965 recording of the Elgar Concerto. However, the ‘Davidov’ didn’t take kindly to her punishing schedule and constant changes in air temperature and pressure, so in 1967 du Pré borrowed (and ultimately bought) a Francesco Gofriller from string expert Charles Beare, which provided her with a more full-throated projection. Her final instrument was a 1970 Sergio Peresson, purchased for her by Barenboim, which she affectionately described as ‘very healthy and strong as a tank’. Du Pré preferred heavy bows, and when her trusty John Dodd was damaged irreparably in a freak accident involving a car door, she switched to a Louis Panormo, which became her natural bow of choice.

Du Pré’s career was cut tragically short before she had time to develop beyond an initial period of international acclaim. She started out recording a comparatively restrained collection of miniatures for the BBC in the early 1960s, including works by Falla, Fauré and Paradis, after which EMI (now Warner Classics) snapped her up and was instantly rewarded with two classics of du Pré’s discography: the Delius Concerto (with Sargent, coupled with Songs of Farewell and A Song before Sunrise) and the Elgar (with Barbirolli, coupled with Janet Baker’s glowing account of Sea Pictures). These immediately established du Pré’s rare ability to recreate in the studio the same sense of emotional imperativeness that informed her live performances.

Although she subsequently went on to work with a number of notable conductors, and in 1968 even stepped outside her comfort zone by premiering Romanza by Alexander Goehr (which was written especially for her), the remainder of du Pré’s official commercial discography is dominated by outstanding musical partnerships with her husband Daniel Barenboim, whether as conductor (Haydn, Dvořák, Boccherini, Saint-Saëns, Bruch, Schumann), accompanist (Beethoven, Chopin, Brahms, Franck) or as a chamber music partner with Pinchas Zukerman in the piano trios of Beethoven and Tchaikovsky.

#jacqueline du pré #du pré #quote #french #cellist #music #classical #genius #classical music #daniel barenboim #musician #arts #skill #culture #concert

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dailyunsolvedmysteries · 1 year

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Headteacher 'shot by husband before he killed daughter then himself'

George Pattison, was found with wife Emma Pattison and their daughter Lettie early on Sunday (Feb 5th 2023) morning at their home in the grounds of Epsom College school.

Mrs Pattison, 45, had contacted a close relative with concerns about her husband in the hours before all three members of the family were found dead. Surrey Police have confirmed that officers have launched a homicide investigation.

The force said a firearm licensed to Mr Pattison, 39, was recovered from the scene but cause of death would not be confirmed until post-mortems have been completed later this week.

Surrey Police said it had contact with Mr Pattison last Thursday after he notified officers of a change in address. The force has subsequently made a self-referral to the Independent Office for Police Conduct (IOPC). The force added the firing range at the school did not form part of the crime scene and was not a line of inquiry in the investigation.

Mrs Pattison became Epsom College's first female head in September 2022 after six years as headteacher of Croydon High School in south London.

#Emma Pattison #true crime #crime #news #murder

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diceriadelluntore · 1 year

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Storia Di Musica #265 - Family, Anyway..., 1970

Il filo rosso delle storie di musica di Marzo nasce per puro caso, mentre stavo ripulendo il mio scaffale dei dischi. Sul tavolino erano allineate tre copertine, finite per caso lì, che avevano la strana coincidenza di essere accumunate da un particolare niente male, cioè usavano in tutto o in parte un famoso dipinto del Rinascimento come cover. Mi è partita quindi la curiosità di indagare un po’ più a fondo ed ecco le scelte marzoline. Iniziamo dalla prima, uno di quei tre dischi che accennavo prima. In copertina ha un particolare nientemeno che di un disegno di Leonardo da Vinci, conservato alla Biblioteca Ambrosiana di Milano, che raffigura Mortai Con Proiettili Esplosivi, databile al 1485. Gli autori di questa scelta erano uno dei gruppi più interessanti del periodo, e sono una di quelle band che nella mia lista di quelle “fenomenali ma di poco successo” (almeno nella memoria rispetto ad altre) stanno nei primi posti. Tutto inizia al Leicester Art College quando si formano i Farinas, nel 1962: lo compongono Charlie Whitney alla chitarra, Jim King, che suona il sassofono e anche il flauto, Harry Overnall alla batteria, Tim Kirchin alle tastiere e soprattutto Roger “Chappo” Chapman, vocalist furioso e struggente. Poco dopo Kirchin se ne va sostituito da Ric Grech. Registrano un primo singolo nel 1964, poi cambiano nome in Roaring Sixties, e nel 1966 con l’ingresso di Rob Townsend al posto di Overnall cambiano definitivamente in Family. Diventano in breve una delle band più acclamate del circuito dei locali di Londra, dove si sono trasferiti, soprattutto grazie alla ruvida e magnifica voce di Chapman. Registrano il primo singolo Through The Eye Of A Lens nel 1967, firmano per la Reprise che gli mette a disposizione come produttore Dave Mason dei Traffic, con cui nel 1968 pubblicano un disco capolavoro: Music In A Doll’s House. Il disco è un culto per due motivi: uno contingente, perchè anticipò di poche settimane con il suo titolo, ispirato al famoso testo teatrale di Ibsen, la stessa idea che aveva John Lennon per l’album dei Beatles, che per quel motivo diventerà il White Album del 1968, che si intitola ufficialmente The Beatles; il secondo è perchè dal punto di vista musicale il disco anticipa quello che diventerà il progressive più bello e spettacolare, mischiando in modo magnifico blues e canto gregoriano (Old Songs New Songs) , r&b da manuale (Hey Mr. Policeman), epica barocca (Me My Friend), meraviglioso folk rock (Peace Of Mind) il tutto con echi di oriente e l’utilizzo di strumenti inusuali (oltre al sassofono di King, sitar, archi e così via). Anche nel primo disco, spicca la voce animalesca di Chappo, che influenzerà una intera generazione. Nel 1969 Family Entertainment e l’anno successivo A Song For Me consolidano il successo, con quest’ultimo in Top Five, tanto che la band chiede alla Reprise di pubblicare un doppio album. La casa discografica nicchia, e ci fu anche un avvicendamento in formazione, con Ric Grech che va ai Blind Faith di Ginger Baker e Eric Clapton sostituito da John Weider. Si arrivò al compromesso di un disco singolo di inediti metà in studio e metà dal vivo, che esce nel 1970 prodotto dalla stessa band. Anyway... fu registrato per metà al Fairfield Halls di Croydon, un teatro usato dalla BBC per spettacoli, registrazioni di programmi e concerti per la Radio, e per metà agli Olympic Studios di Londra. La parte live parte con la forza magnetica di Good News, Bad News, belluina e con uno spiazzante assolo di vibrafono, poi si smorza nelle delicate Willow Tree e Holding The Compass, davvero bellissima, per poi finire con i fuochi d’artificio di Strange Band. L’avvicendamento di Weider al posto di Grech portò ad un suono più rock e meno “esoterico”, e anche ad un sapore musicale più “americano”, con echi country e della The Band. La parte in studio dedica alla vita on the road la quasi funk Part Of The Load, continua cone la complessa e misteriosa Anyway, con echi psichedelici, c’è uno strumentale, Normans, che era un nomignolo che la band ebbe e che vuol dire “scemi”, ma soprattutto c’è la splendida Lives And Ladies, scelta dal leggendario dj John Peel una delle più belle canzoni contro la guerra, che nell’ultima strofa dice: He loves his lady and baby\And he's sure that you love yours\So don't go pulling your switches\They don't need your wars. Il disco venderà molto bene, e il periodo stupendo continuerà con il bellissimo disco Fearless del 1971, che sbalordisce per l’audacia nel mescolare stili, timbri e sfumature, con quel tocco, unico, di coniugare eleganza e aggressività, il loro marchio di fabbrica (da ascoltare la bellissima Between Blue And Me, uno dei gioielli della riserva Family). La band resisterà fino al 1973, quando finita la verve creativa si scioglie, sebbene le pubblicazioni di rarità e live continuerà per decenni, anche fino ai giorni nostri; lasciando però un segno in tutti coloro che li hanno ascoltati, sia dal vivo che sul disco, come una band dal successo mai del tutto espresso, e colpevolmente dimenticata.

#family #anymay...#19701 #recensione

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cxhleel108 · 7 months

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LITG S6 MC: Anaya

Name: Anaya Wilson

Age: 26

Birthday: May 10, 1997 (Taurus)

Hometown: Born in Spanish Town, Jamaica. Raised in Croydon, London. Moved back to Spanish Town as a teenager. Moved to Atlanta, Georgia for college

Ethnicity: Jamaican

Job: Personal Trainer

Sexuality: Bisexual

Height: 166cm/5’5

Hobbies: Exercising, Hiking, Skating (w/ her boo), Boxing, Dancing, Shoe Shopping, Smoking Da Tree ;)

Personality: Anyone who has been around, grew up with, or even just seen Anaya will tell you the same thing, she's cool asf. She’s big on energy. If she feels like you’re chill, she’ll rock with you. If she can tell that you’re a weirdo, she’s either never gonna speak to you EVER or she’ll just keep you at arm's length (catch that tea Ivy). Plus, don’t let her calm nature fool you, she can fuck shit up if she wants to, and that’s both verbally and physically (don’t forget she boxes leisurely). There’s only 3 things in this world that will piss her off immediately. 1. A rainy day. 2. Any form of discrimination/bigotry. 3. Messing with her family, specifically her twin sister, Amelia. Anaya calls Amelia her “first best friend” and she stands by that. She loves all her siblings the same and would go to bat for them any time, but she and Amelia just have that special bond. So just know that even if they haven’t kept in touch that much recently, she will still be like Solange in that elevator if you hurt her girl. Anaya’s favorite asset of hers is…well her entire body. Not even in a way that’s conceited or hypersexual she just works hard to keep it looking good and she’s proud of it. It’s also why she chose to work as a PT. She loves to be able to give people that same sense of pride in their bodies no matter if they’re tryna lose or gain weight. Another thing people wouldn’t guess about Anaya is the fact that she’s very spontaneous. There are very few things she won’t try at least once but most things she will. Her whole outlook is you have to live life to the fullest while you still can. Everyone always thinks Amelia is the spontaneous twin because she's more vocal and dramatic but in reality, it's both of them. “It always shocks people when they learn that about me and it's just like bruv…I’m chill not boring.”

Why She Came On Love Island: She honestly didn’t do it exclusively for love. She was in Manchester for the summer staying with one of her older brothers, Anthony, and his fiancé, Cleo. Cleo suggested that Anaya go on the show because she knew that she was looking to both settle down and have a new adventure (Cleo knew that Amelia had signed up too but wanted to make it a surprise twin reunion so she obvs didn’t say anything). Anaya figured she might as well. 2 months in paradise? Random ass challenges? New friends and a new boo? Sounds like a good time to her. She’d only ever seen clips of the show, so she figured the best way to get into the show was to get onto the show.

Who She’s With: Anaya won Season 6 of Love Island with her now boyfriend Jamal. She recalls meeting him for the first time on Day 1 of the show and immediately feeling “the spark” between them. “At first I thought it was just because the man looks like some delicious mix between Micheal B. Jordan and Trevante Rhodes hahaha…but after getting to know him on a deeper level it wasn’t just that.” While getting to know each other they realized how much they had in common. Similar music tastes, similar fashion sense, similar opinions. They just got each other. He was her type THROUGH AND THROUGH! Anaya realized how quickly of crush she developed on him. “He’d make me blush very easily, and I hadn’t felt giddy like that in a while.” She was also shocked by how she only had eyes for him. Sure, she found the other guys and girls cute but she didn’t connect with any of them like she did with Jamal. Regardless of the multiple distractions thrown at her she was fully devoted to him, and it was clear he was fully devoted to her back. On the finale when he asked to be exclusive she didn’t even think twice about it. She was ready to officially call him her man. Her brother’s place wasn’t far from where Jamal stayed in Liverpool so when the show ended they were having all the coupley fun that they could before Anaya went back to the States. Him teaching her to skate. Her giving him a proper workout. Getting pampered together. All that cute shit. Jamal recently made plans to move with her to Atlanta. He’s already been to America a few times and she had told him everything she loves about being there and he thinks it sounds like a vibe. In all honesty, he just wants to be able to see her in person whenever he wants to.

#went into more depth with this one #got bored waiting for more s7 content #litg #love island the game #litg s6 #litg season 6 #litg double trouble #litg mc #litg moodboard

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insidecroydon · 7 months

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Colleges given 'must do better' report from Commissioner

The governors and staff at Croydon College have been handed a demanding set of 12 recommendations by a Government-appointed intervention team, following the institution’s “Inadequate” Ofsted report earlier this year. Coulsdon campus: much of the Ofsted and FE Commissioner’s attention has been focused on conduct at the Sixth Form College The inspectors from the Further Education Commissioner spent…

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#Caireen Mitchell #Coulsdon #Coulsdon Sixth Form College #Croydon College #Department for Education #Ofsted #Ofsted inspection #Prof Tony Stevenson #Robert Halfon

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jaewrotethis · 2 years

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1- A Place The Fates Forgot To Add Happiness To...

Part One- Neverland...

Sunday I’m skating the streets of Croydon, London. The day isn’t hot but I began sweating hours ago. The few people on the sidewalk move out of my way when they see me coming. It’s 2pm. I’m meant to be in school in this moment but haven’t gone in days. Instead, I spent the week leaving home at 6am and skating through downtown to a park at the end of the city. Beyond the skyscrapers and passed all the smog, there are trees. Beautiful, tall, green trees. A forest I would assume. I’ve never been brave enough to venture into it, but there is a special tree that I climb. At the beginning of the forest there’s a tall, thick, twisted tree, my tree. It’s the first tree, of the first row that starts the seemingly never ending forest.

Hours on hours I spend skating away my troubles through the city, growing hungry. I work my way through the people and streets until stopping at a small café. I wait for the small family walking towards the café and slip in behind them, sounding the tiny bell above the door. I stand by the trash bins while they order their food and I wait for them to walk over by the fountain drinks. When they crowd the machine, I join them. Ducking and filling a cup then crouching away with it. I choose a booth in the back and sit alone, resting my board next to me. I play with a straw wrapper in my fingers. The door opens, the tiny bell rings. In walks a group of girls, all of whom I recognize and instantly sink lower in my seat. The girls take seats in another booth across the room. One of the girls meets my gaze. She spots me and smiles. I cringe when she stands up.

Shit. I think to myself, grabbing my board.

I stand up attempting to dodge her. She leaves her friends behind and hurries over to me trying to cut me off. Her friends notice she’s going to approach me and stare at me, eyes full of caution. I hurry faster than she can and make it to the door but she calls my name. For a reason unknown my feet stop walking and turn to face her.

“Oh, gracious, Jane! It’s been so long!” She squeaks throwing bones for arms around me.

I flinch and stand still waiting for her to be done touching me.

“Where have you been? It’s been so long. Are you coming back to collage finally? Its been so lonely without you here, Jane. And you have no idea, revision is next week, and, oh my god, you didn’t hear about Professor Jacobs being fired, did you? Apparently, he’d been making passes at students, which, by the way, Mary, you remember Mary, swears he came at her but we all know she’ll say anything to get attention. But she did come out with an A in his class s-”

“Nice to see you to, Marissa,” I cut off her annoying babbling with a lie.

“Oh, Jane. It’s been so long,” she pauses, both of us glancing at her friends who look away, “When, uh...when did you get out?” she asks timidly.

“Six months ago,”

Six months next week. I say in my head.

She shifts awkwardly at the topic, “How was the, uh, the-”

“The asylum? Where the crazies go?” I ask, tilting my head purposely making her uncomfortable.

“Institution.” she says quietly looking down.

“Oh, it was fine,” I nod my head quickly. “Just fine. You know, cooped up in dank rooms all day, force fed capsules for brunch. Yes, it was just a dalliance of a time,” I explain with an arrogant smile, and mocking her thick accent.

She looks back unsteadily at her friends waiting for her. I feel them staring at me. I hear them whispering but I can’t make out what is being said.

“I-I’m sorry, Jane. I didn’t mean-”

Sure, you didn’t. I say in my mind.

“Tell your friends I’m not gonna hurt you. I’ll see you around,” I nod my head at them.

She laughs nervously then goes for another hug. I let her hug me again, as we were close friends from grade two until college, and I feel her breathing in my scent quite loudly.

And I’m the freak.

“I hope you’ll be coming back soon. It’s different without you.”

Yeah. Normal.

“Sure.” I give her a fake smile.

“Hey! You have to pay for that!” a lady behind the counter grabs everyone's attention calling me out.

My cheeks instantly grow hot with panic as I spit a quick ‘take care’ towards Melissa and turn around shoving myself out the door. I hear the lady shouting at me and I see the girls and the family watch me run out the door, enjoying the small scene. I drop the cup in the trash can outside the door. I hurry away from the sandwich shop, glancing through the window at the girls. All of them laughing except for Melissa. I get on my board and skate away, noticing I’m still holding the straw wrapper only now its torn and stressed. In my head I map out a route to visit my favorite tree before dark.

I would inevitably have to go home. The streets are not safe after dark. Currently living with the StepDad and pill abuser Mother on the verge of turning 15, has taken its toll on me. I avoid being home as much as possible. Home is a bullshit place the fates forgot to add happiness to. My life is a pathetic excuse for a functional home. It was once happy, or simple. A regular everyday life. But it changed in a chain of reaction.

In 1955, my brother decided to get himself completely involved in a conspiracy theory trying to prove the citizens of America are oblivious to the stealing, lying, life imprisonment that is the U.S. government. I was on his side. Fully believing that everyone is controlled by the masterminds under the government. In theory, it rules over society as fame, glamour, and providing popularity. In anything anyone does it is manipulated by the caretakers, so that we obey and do as they want without us even considering something so belittling. By 1957, my older brother was the head of the whole operation. The entire sixteen hundred thousand people, that concluded our rebellion as ‘history making’, admired him. I was 7 when my brother was killed in a riot that year, right in front of me. Well, his murder on the streets of America started the riot. The riot that lasted weeks, only to be cut off after many, many more causalities. A victory the government took proudly. I couldn’t understand how. His cause left an impact on the states and was shut down. Sixteen hundred thousand and more, dead. A failed revolution.

Father fell into a drunk depression after the media tore our family name to shreds. Being the cause of a catastrophe that marked the decade and would be put in history books, ruined all thought process for my parents. Father left us. As soon as he left Mother refused to handle the public hate on her own and she moved us both back to her homeland; London. This is where she used her own raging insanity to place on me in the eyes of anyone who looked at me. She was determined to prove her daughter was simply psychotic so her drunk and tainted brain would seem perfectly fine enough to earn her trust and word with very powerful doctors. Her intentions to move medication for money seemed like a goldmine to the doctors she befriended through my suffrage. Those same doctors listened to every word spoken for me and diagnosed me a Hebephrenia Schizophrenic with a bad case of Maladaptive Disorder, at the young age of 8. I suppose those labels were effective because she knew how to trigger my rare panic attacks, ‘uncontrolled’ imagination, unexplained sightings, and constant day dreaming.

I never thought mixing up dreams with reality would land me the fate I got. I never would’ve thought the inability to quit fantasizing would convey me as insane. I learned seeing things that weren’t really there is evidence of insanity. I believed my imagination was stronger than anyone else. What I believed in, was pure madness to the ‘real’ world. What I spent hours on hours playing around with, was considered ‘wrong’. What distracted me from any real world situations was categorized as ‘ill’. And Mother knew a trick. She knew how to make the world see what she wanted it to see, and she used me to do it., triggering any mental breakdown she wanted, for more medication, for more money.

A year before I was 10. I was taken to a testing base. ‘Caring and Healing Facility’ they called it. For over a year they tested and observed on me. My time spent under the microscope as a lab rat is a blurry dream, a fuzzy trance donating holes in my memory and blank spots in my timeline. I will never know exactly what happened in that building they called a home. I was told I had been sedated the entire time to spare me from feeling any physical pain. They released me leaving only glimpses and flashes of what happened. Glimpses of dark scenarios played out in front of me, designed to break down each and every different emotion, one at a time. Flashes of the cold chemicals injected into the IV sticking out of my arm. It is a glitch in my life taking up a year, leaving behind nothing but messy images impossible to place and the sickening reminder of what it feels like to be broken down for recorded results. Returning home after that was like waking up from a fragmented nightmare, with a whole year missing from my life. With all that time I spent being a test subject, too drugged to see color, Mother built her system of moving drugs from hospital to street. But she wasn’t smart enough to stay off the supply herself.

During my release, when I was 11, Mother evolved into her own pill maniac. She took tablets she made herself, a mix of Methaqualone and Adrenaline. A terrible mix that made her violent and angry. Her cool downs were long naps sometimes lasting days. She was a brutal nightmare that taught me how to deal with pain. However, this didn’t last long. A month after my 12th birthday Mother twisted an incident that had occurred a week prior and had me placed in a helping home for ‘enhanced thinkers’. It was her word against mine, and given all her ‘medical friends’ and the facility, which kept me drugged for a year, just contributed to hers completely. When all was said and done, which wasn’t very much, I had a two year sentence at the Institution for Criminally Ill Minors of Bromley. I was flown out of state to be locked up and forgotten about, classified as mentally insane. I lost my name, I lost freedom, my rights. It didn’t matter what they did to us in there. Bromley was a lab. We were the experiments. But unlike the ‘Caring and Helping Facility’ they didn't drug us to spare any pain. I lost humanity.

Bromley was it's own nightmare. In the walls of that 'institution', they were on the same track of the Helping Facility, creating drugs that would break apart emotions, one at a time. Only their drugs were meant to be weapons. The Bromley doctors were on a mission to create the perfect solution that would make the host completely insane, completely helpless. I was lucky to be released when I was, before they could find their solution.

After my two years in Bromley was up I was released back to Croydon as a 14 year old convicted mentally challenged child. I was only two months into being 14 when I was freed. I was sent home to Mother who, while I was gone, had gotten married. Her old habits to numb herself with drugs hadn’t faded but morphed into more modern pills.

I didn’t even notice a change in my mother, in the beginning when my brother died, till it already happened. She turned into a drug infested shell right in front of me. I didn’t notice how downhill life went, one event after the other. I just held on as tight as I could, hoping it would end soon. There is no hope for a world where a mother would abandon her own child for power and a high. Send her daughter to an asylum lab for years only to have her come back to an empty, lonely home, sometimes abusive. Now I always feel lost and forgotten, left behind and hopeless.

In the present, Mother works weeks in the city, with her ‘medical friends’ I am expected to attend college until graduation. Although, I skip school most days, I still get an education. Being on my own everyday on the streets of London, teaches me how to survive by myself. I’m learning how to be strong in a dangerous, careless world. For instance, I know not to be out when the sun sets.

I take a train down to the really old neighborhoods with the large antique houses. It really is a unique block. Skating through the streets I pass multicolored big houses all similar yet detailed differently. I reach the tall black gate at the end of the last block. It’s 15 feet high, on the opposite side is the green field. It’s always open during the day. The sign reads ‘Croydon City Limit Park’ in big black letters. It’s a long walk to the other side of the field that held the thick forest. The forest I don’t ever dare to go in passed the first row of trees, it gets really dark, even in broad day light. I stay close enough to the edge where I can still see the black gates. I trudge though the tall grass holding my board above my head pretending I’m in a jungle of some sorts. A deep jungle covered in mud floors, and bug ridden clouds every few feet. This jungle holds threats so I widen my eyes, looking in all directions cautiously, consistently. Halfway through, my right foot steps into a wet part in the grass. I stop and look down, lifting my foot and spotting the brown wet mud covering my soles and toes.

A river! I shout in excitement in my head.

The mud beneath my feet drops into itself opening into a thick river rushing with cold fresh water. Rocks and pebbles fill the ground under the clear water, covered in green moss that pulls to the harsh flow. I jump over the river, following it with my eyes all the way into the thick forest. I leaped over the rushing river, smiling in victory. When I finally approach the trees I stalk them all the way down to my favorite one and lean my board against the trunk. Grabbing the lowest branch to the ground I jump high and lift myself up onto the branch, gaining footage. I climb the tree fast and I’m at the top in a minute. At the top I stare at the city lights and the long field.

All the lights, all the people. It makes me sad. Every day the same thing. The city is gross, messy, and stinks. It’s awful. Homeless men haunt the streets and harass anyone. Police are corrupt and will plant or say anything if it means they meet their quota. People are rude and selfish. People who have power so easily hurt the ones without a voice. I think a lot about all the messed up things in this world. Murder, cruelty, violence, racism. This world is the screw up, and it burns me inside thinking about it all. Standing on this top branch looking at the city, thinking, it makes me want to leave. Leave this world and never come back. But there is no where else I know. No where I could go. But the wish and the hope to go somewhere else eats at me.

All my thoughts are interrupted by the familiar sense in my nerves. The one that came just before a breakdown of any sort. I hardly get them anymore since I left the asylum. It’s a wave of sadness that washes over me pushing me into one of two states. It could wrap its cold grip around my throat and lungs and suffocate me until I hyperventilate myself into an emotional panic attack. Or it could drown me in images that block out the real world and paralyzes me in a sad state, surrounding me with whatever terrors my brain has blocked out. Both of these attacks almost always ending in a black out. Sometimes I could stop the wave. The feeling that came on before it hit was a warning. Whether it be the scary breathless one or the sad paralyzed one, I sometimes could prevent it.

Like this time. I feel it and I focus on the leaves around me. Counting them to distract myself. Noticing each different vein on each leaf, following the way the branches bend and twist, just pushing the panic attack down, deep, deep down and burying it. When it passes I smile at myself for ditching the emotional breakdown, yet again. During my smile, a slight gust of wind brushes the tree tops, making its way around me.

Nice breeze. I think. Of filthy oil air.

I sigh being reminded that even though I’m free of the asylum, I’m still trapped in a disgusting polluted bubble of a city. I look down at the thick branch I’m perched on and adjust my footing so I can sit. I lean against the tree trunk. I close my eyes listening to my surroundings. From here I don’t here the cars honking, and machines working. All I hear is the breeze through each and every leaf and the bugs in the grass. I hear few birds and fewer animals scampering along the forest floor somewhere near by.

In this tree, in this moment, I can pretend I’m somewhere else. I can just listen and pretend I’m alone in some perfect world, all by myself. I can pretend I’m happy here and enjoying the nature growing around me the harder I imagine it. I don’t know how much time passes but when I open my eyes, nothing’s changed except the sky. Its just beginning turn orange as the sun heads west behind the skyscrapers into the ugly smog. I don’t have much time before I need to go home.

I sit a bit longer watching the sun sink lower bringing dread with each passing inch. When it touches the skyscrapers in the distance and a spider has crept onto my shoulder, I decide it’s time to head home. I brush off the spider then bend down to grab the branch I’m sitting on in my fingers. I slide off aiming my feet for a lower branch but when my shoes touch it, I slip. My shoes hit the branch too hard and I slip right off hitting three branches on my way down, then slamming my head into a thick root sticking out of my twisted tree. The last thing I see is the treetop swaying in the orange sky.

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martinevev881 · 2 years

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7 Things About swingers club Your Boss Wants to Know

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Visitors to the exclusivelysilks.co.uk website can find the opportunity to join the ‘Silk Swingers’ club. Owners stated they wished to keep the standard of the club to the ‘highest’ setting while ‘enriching’ your experience. However, he is listed on Companies House as a director of the private club. Mr McCloud had informed licensing officers that Exclusively Silks rented out part of Croydon Hall for its events.

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At the end of a decompensation, the unsub will go in a temporary psychotic break and start revisiting old patterns to see if they would still work. When he finds that they do not, he will be compelled to destroy them and anyone involved in them. Other tools that couples utilize in the negotiation process include allowing partners to veto new relationships, prior permission, and interaction between partners. This helps to reassure each partner in the relationship that their opinion is important and matters.

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It said it would be hosting a £80-a-ticket monthly events, including a ‘Burns Night’ party at the end of January, as well as being available for private visits. Mr McCloud originally applied to extend the licence until 4am, but changed this to 3am following discussions with Avon and Somerset Constabulary. Judge, for his part, calls Cretul a “vengeful man” who attempted to turn the authorities against him because of a prior disagreement. “I’m a taxpayer, I do what I have to do to stay up and beyond the law. I don’t sell drugs, I don’t condone drugs, I don’t condone anything against the law,” Judge said.

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Among those people who said they were "somewhat unhappy" or "unhappy" with their marriages before swinging, around 80–90 percent said they were happier with their marriages after they started swinging. Nearly half of people who said they were "very happy" with their marriages before swinging claimed to be even happier with their marriages after swinging. Open marriage can in some cases increase marital satisfaction. Cultural pressure may also dissuade initiating or switching to an open relationship. There is a commonly held societal stereotype that those involved in open relationships are less committed or mature than those who are in monogamous relationships. Films, media, and self-help books present the message that to desire more than one partner means not having a "true" relationship.

"I feel more love for her now, knowing what it is like to be with other people than I think I would have if that's the only experience I have ever had in my life." Another swinging couple, Bob and Tess, were college sweethearts. They've been married 19 years, and five years into their marriage they decided to try the lifestyle.

The Significance Of What Happens At A Swingers Club

Then there are the podcasts hosted by couples that are actually about being a couple. Of these, ONE Extraordinary Marriage is perhaps the most noteworthy. Hunt attributed the low number swingers101.com/7-tips-for-first-time-swingers-swinger-clubs-charlotte-nc/ of people in these open marriages to various social, psychological, and practical problems. The unsub is an emasculated Caucasian alpha male in his 40s with a near obsessive-compulsive need for control, and judging by the repeated details of the murders, it seems that his ritual is essential to him. He almost definitely has some woman in his life, most likely a wife, as he would otherwise not be allowed to enter inside a swingers' party alone. Jealousy is often present in monogamous relationships, and adding one or more partners to the relationship may cause it to increase.

So if that’s the reason you’re opening the relationship, it’ll likely result in a breakup. There are no disadvantages of open relationships, per se, only wrong reasons for entering into an open relationship. You and your partner both have a lot of love to give and believe you can love more than one person at once. Usually, folks in open relationships don’t feel like their current relationship structure is a hardwired part of who they are. In November 2021, Smith said during a GQ interview that "Jada never believed in conventional marriage... Jada had family members that had an unconventional relationship. So she grew up in a way that was very different than how I grew up."

But, for many, the shift to monogamy was due to a genuine change in what they sought in relationships. Couples in open marriages expose themselves to the potential for conflicts caused by jealousy. Studies have shown that 80 percent or more of couples in open marriages experience jealousy over their extramarital relationships. Jealousy with its roots in open marriage can lead to serious conflicts. For example, attempting to interfere with a rival relationship may make a partner angry. Insulting or berating a partner may provoke retaliatory responses.

While SWAT enters, Prentiss reaches into her handbag and shoots James through it. As he lays dying, he tries to ask Prentiss to tell Maryann that he loves her. Though he is unable to complete the sentence, Prentiss understands and says that she will, right before he dies. Garcia narrows down the list of potential suspects to James.

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The two double homicides lead to the BAU being called in by the local police department. During his attack on the Wilsons, the husband puts up too much of a fight, completely destroying the fantasy. After a long struggle, James is able to reach his gun and shoot the husband to death. He then turns to the wife, forcing her to say she wants him.

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archoptical · 1 year

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College Road, Croydon

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ellegaardserrano · 1 year

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Sap Enterprise Objects Bo Coaching On-line In Uk

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ukrfeminism · 2 months

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The number of 10 to 19-year-olds charged with rape in London has more than doubled in two years, according to shock new figures.

In the year to December, 802 suspects were charged out of 8,839 reports — nine per cent of the total, compared with 364 over the same period in 2021.

For those aged 10 to 19, the number shot up from 35 to 74 individuals — a rise of 111 per cent.

The Metropolitan Police figures were revealed as a leading expert issued a stark warning over the rise of teenage boys copying what they see in violent pornography.

Sian Ruddick, an NHS specialist in supporting adolescent rape victims, said many consider choking girls during sex as “normal” behaviour after viewing it on their phones.

She called for teachers to hold regular workshops on consent and boundaries because it had become “really horrific” for teenage girls in and out of the classroom.

Ms Ruddick, who works at The Havens — three clinics for survivors run by King’s College Hospital in Camberwell, Whitechapel and Ladbrooke Grove — wants schools, colleges and universities to become “zero tolerance” places for sexual violence. She said “turning the tide” on wrongdoing starts at school.

“You’re never going to be able to wipe out everyone’s access to porn, but you can have a safe and rigid conversation about consent.

“The normalisation of strangulation in sex among teenagers does feel like a step backwards. Boys see it in porn and then it’s expected. We need to have more sex-positive conversations but pornography has filled that void.”

Last month, the UK police’s lead in tackling child abuse revealed that hardcore porn and access to smart phones had turned children into abusers — with more than 6,813 alleged rapes committed by youngsters aged 10 to 17 across Britain in a year.

Ms Ruddick — a member of the pan-London rape scrutiny panel — runs a team supporting 350 women going through the justice system. Funding restraints mean another 50 are on the waiting list.

The advocates provide information, emotional and practical support, including going to meetings with police and attending court if the case goes to trial.

They work as part of a wider team at The Havens, where specialist doctors, nurses and therapists work together to support people who have been recently assaulted.

Anyone sexually assaulted or raped can ask for a forensic medical examination in order to gather DNA evidence for a criminal investigation – the timescales are different for different assaults but for vaginal rape tests can still find forensics after seven days. Last year, 1,200 examinations were carried out in the capital.

Not everyone wants to report to the police, and for those that do, keeping underwear, clothing, sanitary products, images or used condoms and not to wash or bathe helps to preserve evidence.

Later this year, a pilot will see survivors being able to give live video link evidence to Croydon Crown Court from a suite at The Havens.

Ms Ruddick said: “We don’t try to steer people to what they should or shouldn’t do.

“The most important thing is they have the information, access and time.

“We know the withdrawal rates, particularly in London, are very high. The criminal justice system can be an overwhelming place to be.

“We want survivors to know you are not alone - you will have someone with you seeking to understand and advocate. We don’t speak on behalf of our clients but we hope to amplify their voices and get to the ears of people making the decisions.”

Ms Ruddick says many victims have been left uneasy due to low trust and confidence in the Metropolitan Police following the murder of marketing executive Sarah Everard, 33, by PC Wayne Couzens who worked in the same armed unit as serial rapist PC David Carrick.

Baroness Louise Casey’s scathing review of the force painted an alarming picture of how crimes against women and children are investigated.

A lunchbox was found in the same fridge as rape samples and appliances were so full they had to be strapped shut. One fridge containing rape kits broke down, meaning evidence could not be used.

Ms Ruddick says “There is no getting away from the Met having had a really difficult couple of years. For that to be someone’s anxiety, is understandable. Things need to significantly improve if survivors are going to have faith in the process.

“But too few cases are charged and too few found guilty.

“In the past three years, we see more and more people struggling with the length of time it is taking.

“The shame that ends up being put on survivors. It’s never their fault - they are not to blame. That message feels so important. This was someone else’s choice that was inflicted on you.

“People often don’t feel able to tell their parents, friends or people at university. However, one thing we hear from clients is having their voices heard made them feel valued and believed.

“For survivors, it feels very mixed even with a guilty verdict. They find hardest an expectation from other people that they should now be fine and it’s all over. So often, it’s the start of the recovery, a different type of beginning.”

In December, teenage serial rapist Kevarnie Queen, 19, dubbed the “Brixton R Kelly” was jailed for 12 years after committing a three-year campaign of sexual violence against six girls under 18.

Commander Kevin Southworth, the Met’s lead for public protection, said: “We are dedicated to putting victim-survivors of rape at the heart of everything we do to eradicate sexual violence largely caused by predatory men and support those who are impacted.

“We’ve transformed the way we investigate rape and sexual offences, more than doubling our number of rape charges since 2021.

“We’re not complacent and remain absolutely resolute in our commitment to target offenders and protect women and girls, but we cannot do this alone.

“Listening to victim-survivors, and working together with charities and partners across the criminal justice system, we’re working to ensure that all victims-survivors have the confidence to report these most awful crimes and do all that we can to get them the justice they deserve.

“If you have been a victim of sexual violence and not yet reported it – please contact your local police service and we will do all that we can to help.”

Recent Ministry of Justice data shows the average London rape victim waits three years and three months to get a court result, down from over four years at the start of 2022.

A MoJ spokesman said ministers introduced a raft of measures to speed up hearings since the start of the pandemic, including funding unlimited Crown Court sitting days for a third year in a row.

She added: “We know that victims who feel supported are 50 per cent more likely to stay engaged in the criminal justice system and Independent Sexual Violence Advocates and Domestic Violence Advisors offer crucial emotional support to victims regardless of whether they report to the police.

“This is why we are quadrupling funding for victim and witnesses support services and committed to recruiting 300 more specialist advisors by 2025.”

#articles #mvawg

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