Lucy-Jane Allen

Thursday 9th August- I keep trying to do it on my own, to fix myself, but I’m starting to think I might not be able to. I’m currently listening to a Miley Cyrus’ saddest songs Playlist. Being so, I just listened to her crying about a fish called Pablo. I’d highly recommend listening to it, if you are slightly mentally unstable because by the end, I think I nearly started crying as well. That’s what we call Therapy. Well, that’s my version of therapy. I sometimes find it easier to make myself feel sad by films, music, and such, because it allows me to release a sense of sadness when I’m not too sure what the problem is with myself. Well one of many problems evidently. I think maybe part of me thinks that if I try to explain this to someone, they won’t understand it, or they will maybe advise me on how to stop feeling sad, which seems obvious, “Don’t look up ‘Heart-breaking playlists to cry yourself to sleep’”. So, to avoid that embarrassment it might be best if I just carry on. But my question is, do I make myself sadder, like does me even writing this make me more depressed or is it a good thing that I’m getting my thoughts onto paper. Then again, maybe it’s because I think I’m a little bit strange, I don’t think I need someone with a degree in mental illness to agree that I am indeed strange. Anyway, you can decide that. If you are thinking yep, you’re strange, maybe stop reading now cause that was one of the less strange things I’ve done and am currently doing – ‘Miss you so much’ by Miley Cyrus is now playing.’ Oil on Canvas, 25x20cm, 2023.

‘Sunday 23rd October – Sometimes I like to sit in a place and just listen. There’s something I find quite soothing about listening. Not in the sense of laying by a lake listening to the water as it runs downstream. I like to listen to people. Hearing the everyday, the stupid, the mundane. I’m not even too sure why but that’s the way it is. Anyway, I’m in the marks and sparks café and I’ve just had a lady apologise for putting “her big butt” in my face. Her words not mine. I just said, “oh no no, don’t worry” but what I wanted to say was, “don’t worry I’m sitting here with my trousers undone so my rolls have space to breath”. But I didn’t. It’s hard to pinpoint the atmosphere. There’s so much going on in here I must admit, an old lady trying to fix her husband’s jacket as he toddles off. The ladies the right of me are discussing crockery. To be precise I’m actually amongst a criminal plot. They’re planning on stealing the small milk jug as a memento, just like the lady furthest from me, mum used to do. An odd choice of a pastime I must admit. However, I’m invested, I’m basically a co-conspirator as I try to decipher their code. I’m listening as they discuss how lovely and warm the jug is, I decoded this information from the nearest lady saying, “I was thinking how lovely the crockery was” … (moves hands to hold it) “ooo its warm”. I’m now thinking I should be recruited in MI5. My attention has now moved to a horrific sight. I suddenly see a lady wear my green Zara shirt and trousers. She looks a lot better than me in it. Looks like I won’t be wearing that again. Then I see a lady who’s more on my wavelength, as she shoves Victoria sponge down her gullet - Like it’s going out of fashion. Good on you girl. Furthest from me is a little girl in her yellow raincoat covered in rainbows and flowers- very mini-Boden. She’s got a streak of pink in her hair. I’m quickly distracted by a classic Marks and sparks mum. She’s got a Kath Kidston bag on her shoulder – you know the green spotty one- she’s partnered it with a blue Jules coat. I’m really enjoying sitting here, and it’s not really because I like to listen to people. It’s because it reminds me of home; my mum telling my dad to ‘sort himself out’ cause he’s got a trail of custard creme crumbs down his jumper, my friends conspiring to steal a Guinness glass in a club, my brother eating the sacred last piece of cake, my old collection of Mini-boden. When I feel somewhat lonely, it’s nice to feel familiar with something, even if it’s in the M and S café.’ Oil on Canvas, 50 x 40cm, 2023.