Bio: A disabled creative who loves words and emotions and all that.


Instagram: @sakaradee

A photograph of two ginger and white cats curled up on a bed. They are undeniably adorable and look absolutely content.

Least resistance I ever did see

A photo of a wall with pieces of paper stuck to it, one has a line drawing of flowers in black ink, the one next to it is a poem. The shadow of a hand leads the eye to a piece which says "maybe this is magic" In the same black ink. The overall feel is dreamy with sunset light against the painted wall.

I could've made magic

A screenshot of a genuine gmail email entitled "An epic plan" the email suggests we "go on a mission of finishing things", written in a style which feels like poetry and references working on the song "Scarborough Fair".

An Epic Plan

Photo of a handwritten poem on torn blue paper. It is stuck to a wall with medical tape. The poem reads: Comfortable
What a coincidence 
I've been thinking today
About how uncomfortable
I feel around people 
Around promises
Around plans best laid,
What a coincidence 
After these hours were saved
By a cat finding comfort
On my lap, where he stayed. (Poem ends).

A poem about discomfort. My dad painted the wall. #Colab

Black photo with little dots of light just visible

Stary nite

A dim photograph of a bedroom with the floral curtains drawn, the colour scheme is warm yet muted, the perspective is as though you're lying in the bed, looking out over the ripples of the quilt. There is a cat resting in the foreground and an acoustic guitar a little further down the bed.

Crashing @ home

A photograph of a cat sitting in a cardboard box which is on its side. One flap is hanging down and a digital drawing has been done over it to create the lines of a shopfront awning. The overall effect is of a ginger kitty shopkeeper watching over his "Fair Price Purrs" shop, with a sign that says purrs cost 4 scratches per 10 seconds.

Art has to be accessible for the artist too. Today's best effort^ (Flowers added by Em)

A photo of a laptop screen saying "shutting down" which has random patterns drawn over it in pink digital pen and the words "rest, they say, rest" typed in italics.

They keep telling me to rest.

A close up photo of an amber toned lamp with black details. It's a traditional style with a shade. The light cast on the wall is warm.

Alternative light source

A photograph of a handwritten poem talking about trying to accept compliments and love from a newfound community. The note pad lays on an old white fleece dressing gown.

Nice comments

A photograph of a poem written on a 5 size paper and taped to the door of a wardrobe. The door is painted white and there's mustard floral fabric partially covering it. I'm sorry I don't have the energy to type up my poem. Contact me at my Instagram (linked in my profile) or email me if you are interested and I'll send a text version as soon as I can. My email is: s a k a r a d e e at g mail dot com. Thank you for understanding.

I've been struggling... To grieve.

Screenshot of a poem reading: We're quiet 
We talk
I sit for the walk,

You know every dream
That died in this village
My face
Your face,
Mirror image.
My story
Your story 
The one you envisaged?

We're quiet
We talk
I'm glad of the walk,

You've met half the ghosts
Who hold onto my heart
My fingers 
Your fingers
A good place to start.

I learnt a lot today (by listening)

A poem reading: I'm still holding on
Tight to this shell
This performance 
This hollow
Love letter to hell,
What I leave behind 
Old habits I break 
Come back 
Rebuilt by mistake.
I'm still holding on
As my feet kick thin air
I'm loosing my grip 
People gasp, people stare
But they're only gazing 
At an egg, paper thin
It's pretty and painted 
But empty within 

Except for...

I think I could do with more tools

A poem, reading I'm not a teenager
But I'm not 21
I'm not in love
But I haven't moved on,
I can't say I'm alone 
But we can't be together
Unless you're my cat
On my lap
(Please, stay forever),
Maybe someday 
I won't be so afraid 
But for now I'm still scared
Loving creatures who've strayed,
I'm not an old lady
But I am no youth 
I'm not a lie 
But I'm still finding the truth.

Accompanied by photo of a ginger and white cat.

The joy of sitting with cat

A poem screenshot: Ego is the self
I remember from psychology 
(I got a D)
I seem to be attracted 
To people with a lot of self
And with it, boundless insecurity.
I seem to be attracted 
To people a lot like me.

The purposes are limitless (including ego-feeding, of course)