TEN THOUSAND PIECES

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The Steps between Them

Monday, 13 March 2017

The steps between them:


Under a mild Sunday haze, they stood face to face with just four steps between them. 
He took one step forward and unveiled his love for her.
He uttered,
 "I adore you. I have done since the day I first saw you.
 I see nothing but perfection in you"

She took two steps back,
 and replied,
"I do not wish to distort your perception, 
but I have not yet  uncovered my scars like I have not yet lain bare before you.
and you have not yet met my vice like you have not yet seen my faults-
For this reason, 
I cannot accept your love.
When my shine has worn off,
and my vibrance no longer glistens,
say that you love once more and perhaps I'll listen "

A crisp silence ensued.
'twas so deathly that even the small birds flew;
for they too were fearful for what was due.

Sweat gathered in his palms,
 his body moved one step forth,
 and without thought, he spoke;
"trust in my words when I say I love you now so I shall love you tomorrow.
please believe that your worst will not deter me from your best. 
I love you today like I'll love you tomorrow,
I'll be here forever not matter your sorrow"

The words flew from his mouth and shot into her blood stream,
boiling the anger that had brewed at the pit of her heart.
"Do not tell me forever", she spat,
"for this is the lie that has fooled many before me.
and so I refuse to fall for such foolishness.
It does not exist,
 such is a proven fact that not even scientists can contest.
It does not exist"

The spring breeze lingered and for a second,
the breath she took weakened her rage.
With a bewildered boy before her 
she continued,
"I do not feel your words. I do not feel the love you claim to hold for me.
say it again and let me sense that you mean it."

Robotically he recited,
"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I LOVE YOU."
With every pause his voice rose, 
for he too was frustrated by his neglected protest.
His heart ached as sharp tears formed behind his eye lids.


She took three steps back,
and with a matter of fact she told him;
"But
 my mind does not drown in content,
my stomach does not hurl in happiness,
my lungs do not lose air in excitement,
and
my heart does not beat so furiously that almost cracks through the cage of my ribs.
I do not feel your love.
Perhaps I am numb."

Insulted and confused,
He had said all he could say,
So,
He simply walked away.

She was cold and unmoved,
so no emotional reaction, or pleadings of sorry, ensued.


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Whitworth

Saturday, 25 February 2017

I've lived in 3 different countries, 4 different cities and 2 small towns; but no matter where I go, or how long I stay away, Manchester always feels like home.

This time the city welcomed me back during my short weekend there. In between making my rounds seeing friends and unnecessarily spending money, I found time to visit Whitworth Art Gallery.

Located on the outskirts of the city centre, only the curious and the regulars grace this gallery.


From the outside, its redbrick grandeur seems displaced as it sits slightly, but not completely, secluded from the shabby high street. But step through the doors of this 126 year old building and you find a sleek modernity that not even it's rival, Manchester Art Gallery, can compete with.


For a glimpse of Manchester in the summer see 'The Gallery Thief & Lady in Pink'



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Instagram (personal): '@Rossanarocas'
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LONDON: Series 1

Friday, 17 February 2017

I had only known London in the company of  my family, during rushed day trips where my exploration would be restricted to purpose of the trip. I had never gotten to know London for the sake of getting to know London. So it was about time London and I got acquainted on a deeper level.

During a short 3 days and 2 nights' stay I tried to figure her (London) out. 
Like an expensive mistress, she rinsed me of my money and left me (a poor underfunded student) counting my last pennies. But her seduction was enough to convince me that I should return; and like a keen lover, I doubt I'll stay away.


On the underground one finds people that are too absorbed in their own lives to care about yours. They're too focused on getting from point A to B to notice your new fur coat. They're too engrossed in the music that blares into their eardrums to admire your new fringe. They're too far into their thoughts to express a friendly face of polite acknowledgement. But yet, it is their perfected nonchalance which creates a space of carelessness that provides a small-town-girl with the emancipation to be whomever she desires. She can take on a new persona (be unapologetic) , a new style (wear those loud trousers) and even a new identity; because in the city one is always guaranteed a certain freedom from judgement.


 In the night, those capitalist lights shine on the city and give it artificial life.


See also MANCHESTER: Series 1
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Facebook Page: 'Ten Thousand Pieces'
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Dearest Georgia

Monday, 13 February 2017

Not a close friend, or one that I have known a while. I met Georgia on a freshers night out through our good friend Kerys. This time last year, our interactions were not limited by distance (as they are now), and the times we graced Evoque's dance floor were not exclusive to special occasions.  Although I may no longer have a regular presence in her life, I still care for her like I would a distant sister. 

Last weekend we met again in Preston to celebrate Kerys' 20th birthday. This time around Georgia's spirits were low and rightfully so- on the 29th of July 2016 Georgia lost her dear Mother - Sharron Babrahani-, and so the light that I had gotten to know had dimmed.



Cancer was the blunt knife that cut short the moments that Georgia and her mother were to go on and share- from the festive and meaningful celebrations (Birthdays, Christmas', Easters), the life changing events (graduations, weddings, career changes), to the more uniquely intimate moments that one cannot describe, but can only experience when in the embrace of their mum. 

Like with every tragedy the ones left behind must find strength to live on- a task harder than you or I could ever imagine.



It is with bold bravery, courageous hope and a resilient heart that Georgia has decided to pay tribute to her remarkable mother by running the 'Great Manchester Run' for Macmillan Cancer Support. In doing so, not only will she be healing her own heart and soothing her own pain, but she will be saying a deep meaningful 'thank you' to the selfless nurses that supported her mother in ways she simply could not; she will join an international army of daughters, sons, husbands, wives, aunties, uncles, cousins, friends that fight in the battle against cancer.

You and I can help strengthen her crusade; our simple donations will not only aid her emotional recovery, but they will ensure that those who are currently suffering, and that those that may go on to suffer, a similar loss can benefit from the support that Macmillan give.



I see Georgia finding strength again, I see the sorrow concealed in the depths of her heart soften up and become easier to bare. I see her anxiety diminish and her emotional scares begin to fade. I see the sadness in her eyes lighten up and the spark behind them shine through. I pray her support system stays solid forever.

Cancer was the curse that sent her mother’s soul to sleep, and so may she forever rest in peace.


CLICK ON THIS LINK TO DONATE TO DEAREST GEORGIA.  All donations are welcomed and invited


Social Media
Facebook Page: 'Ten Thousand Pieces'
Instagram (personal): '@Rossanarocas'
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Tumblr: 'Ten-th0usand'


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