Boy chasing a dream

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Location: Figeac, Figeac

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CVD19.8

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The last day of March begins With the sun cornered between Clouds and St James' Hospital And me sat in the same space Wondering when this will finish? The voices in my head are reaching Outward, from where they'd been Relegated to an occasional threat, To become emboldened by others Who always judge on partial evidence. Give me back my feet, and my Way, otherwise I will cave in And mutate again becoming lesser When all I seek is magnitude! Yet isn't it still my choice to walk? Bored of switching on the radio With it's list from panic measures, And hearsay, dropping "mights" Into the doomsaying with this Negative wassailing upward creep! Crawling back into the kitchen, Stirring, sideways, this familiar vessel, A subcontinential spicy ration, Breaking my fast, prior to One form of exercise without prejudice. Cruelly formulated in this cell, By those without a free instinct; Charmless, bland or banal. Gruel they serve up in bitter measures Isn't ...
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Mid Morning Blues

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Eyes full of irritating pus gunk. Slept fitfully waking with crusty eyes. Self prognosis suggests bacterial conjunctivitis. Sun was out this morning but it is hiding a little. So shorts might not be the obvious attire. Quick coffee then a walk. Man having a discussion with the fishmonger in loud voice. So everyone can hear what is being discussed. Politics. Business of the day. Not real. Not real at all. Steven Smith off to do his driving theory test. Was out for a couple early for Jonesy's babies head wetting last night. Everyone in shades of grey, blue or brown. Not a bright contrast of colours except for Lloyd's Nike red and green. Not sure I can do much more of those contrived events. Nice to bump into Simon Handley, though and I am very happy for Mr and Mrs Jones; Westy is weary: he's a baffooning gibbon. I linger. Second coffee. Alerting me: perhaps! No rush today. Louis Armstrong playing his jazz in the coffee shop. Gravel voice. I don't really enjoy Ladyday. Tha...
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Saturday being like Sunday.

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A rest day is what I really needed and San Clemente is large enough to hang about in for an extra night. My shin feels less enflamed today too, but I wish my head was in the same vein? Too many local wines yesterday. But it is fine! I will repair soon. Turned inside for an hour. Three separate vibrations of the phone brought me out of the meditation. I forgot to turn the thing off to charge. Oh well. The sun is shining through the light curtains. The room is very cold, but I'm in my sleeping bag snuggled so tomorrow I start again on The Way. I've not much longer to go really between San Clemente, a very pretty place to relax, and Toledo the original capital of Castile, before Madrid. Been around the various parts of town and it's stacked with vintage buildings and nice squares, but there are too many cars. Every road I went down sooner or later one came rumbling down the cobbles and it was getting to me. Then I ducked into a bar for a glass of water and a slice of Tortilla,...
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