My name is Sinead O’Connor. I am learning to love myself. I am deserving. I deserve to be treated with respect. I deserve not to be treated like dirt. I deserve to be listened to. I am a member of the human race. I deserve not to be hurt. My name is Sinead O’Connor. I am a woman. I have something to offer. I am and have always been carrying a lot of grief for my lost childhood. And for the effects of its horror and violence on my life. I am grieving the loss of my mother and father. … Continue reading Sinead’s letter in THE IRISH TIMES 1993.
Before sharing next article, with courtesy of The Mystic.org, I want to tell you of a strange thing that happened to me, when I almost turned into madness, before my sick leave was due. One afternoon, I was walking on the sidewalk, to the supermarket, when I found this watercolor on the hedge. Middle of nowhere. A long hair woman walking on the beach with a long summer dress, a hat on her hand, and a shell on her ear, her eyes closed. My Italian sister is quite a believer, and she told me that a shell in christian symbolism means “listen”. … Continue reading Mystic Signs: Dawn of New Life?