A rebel without a clue.

And it is done. Four final days at Mosaic FS and I thank them for providing me with employment. Although I set off with high expectations of paying off what I had accrued this summer I found myself unable to detach from consumerism on my off days. The futility of the role (not the persons fulfilling their roles) picking Christmas and packing it in such menacing quantities to make me wonder what use are the 'things' China and the rest make for us Western gluttons. The decision I have made to continue walking in Germany, following Patrick Leigh Fermor again up the Rhine; just how will I manage this without flying and without expense? This is a quest to end 2013's saga. Good is sure to come eventually as a consequence of my actions - cause and effect.

https://www.evernote.com/shard/s315/sh/6e00ddc7-ad57-475c-9752-6acbc4ae95b9/2486056660b28f4a36811dbc6ad08b3d Wednesday morning was tough. Although I have tried to overlook the infection irritating my ear the last couple of weeks and continue in the noisy dirty environment - which has been my abode of sufferance since twenty first of August - something subtle snapped in that damaging situation and, like an overly coiled spring, I lost control being unable to negate this disharmony (previously I had been redirecting or eluding my inner voice by feeding it a A Course in Miracles and The Power of NOW when my mind struggled against the toxins thrust upon me by Heart, Kerrang! or Radio Two from seven until six); I was insane. My previously helpless, fearful, judgemental and intolerant persona was watching and reaching to pull itself beyond my own control again. In a wave of self revulsion I decided I must escape forthwith from another peace-less doom and allow my physical difficulties remed...

https://www.evernote.com/shard/s315/sh/4663b598-1d81-4c31-a824-b39ff2cd70a3/a574861373d2d36b27201a96087cdac7 (Aside 1) A packet of biscuits later I am into a usual routine. Sure I'll sleep very well after a Stowford Press or two or three. The skies above Wetherby High School are Gun-boat gray and this torrent has persisted since I arrived on the 561 around noon. Doves pictured against the hull of this masterpiece follow the breaks above the Wharfe and bridge. Two very drunk persons argue and then proceed out of the Swan and Talbot wavering down North Street driving forgetful of their state. Why should I worry? And so i drift to The Muse for a pint of Daleside Bobek Export a few years since that showed its head in these parts...     If I had an air gun or something stronger I would shoot the mindless old fools rattling on about 'they' 'them' having your details and using it to tempt you with PPI claims etc... (Aside 2) For a few days my finger has been poised ...

https://www.evernote.com/shard/s315/sh/8e1798fd-6141-4805-ae93-e717caa97f96/dcffa282180a2357d48fb9f5bbc98db5 Truth: I must escape this Hell. It is rotten and has no salvation in it for me. In the summer I set off looking for the essence of truth and to be free of the pain I've carried around ever since I can recall. Something tells me I am very well and I am resolved out of the past and its fear, but I am not sure this 'human' world was ever right for me. It lost me as soon as I was given immunisation, went to school, was uniformed, tied, forced to write words from letters fixed, bound to be flogged for 'the minimum wage' by those who would forever fail to see. In the past I really thought I was in error or something was corrupt in me. This was never true. The world is beauty, people are cruel and seem beyond my help so I must return to Eden and leave humanity to its sinfulness. Can I join a cloister and forgive what creates so much pain? In honesty I need a way o...

https://www.evernote.com/shard/s315/sh/f5036d58-7a03-4443-9d33-0cd6e9cb122c/8e8c991219a22539ff4ee0405fc0de34 I've been trying to understand 'we' in terms of 'our' salvation but I can't see that this must be so. Christ died as a redeemer for eternity yet today 'I' feel am sure redeemed; I has gone. This wasn't my choice and I am grateful for no longer being insane. I confess I am not sane, and i am completely ready to become one again, but 'I' literally have no desires, wants or needs anymore. I am far gone from that place in which 'they know not what they do' and this has made life pleasing. I have been asked am I depressed: no 'I' am not depressed but the 'we' really is and a mountain will have to fall for everyone to be redeemed.

https://www.evernote.com/shard/s315/sh/47aaac88-f911-4f04-8368-cf194a76f561/4290ba09a723fd0797484f90c21dd1ac Awaiting and noises of the busy A1 feed the woes. A blackbird sighs melancholy in this desperate taint. We are all in pain but who is aware? Here comes my chariot to deliver me helpless and broken. Another black sunless morning when the cloak of shadows enhance guile controlling form and feelings.

https://www.evernote.com/shard/s315/sh/98df409a-03be-4c9f-b6a7-868eafd48d3e/b85c845da0843b6827a23827d5c5aa2c With billions of bells clanging out of tune and in abrasive discord this new month threatens all hope in Christ to redeem us. My cousin says ' Bar! Humbug' when I ask ' Who was it that killed Christmas?' - It was death through mindless possession, swearing, binding and surviving; the very simple essence which was family is in bondage to this spendthrift's day. Yet, coughing, I know in only nine working days my seasonal penance should be complete. But will not as I will be let out just in time to grimace at the very real threat of yet another familiar (41st) rabid ungentle feast. Still I plead 'please give children back Christmas'. We must remove this ever increasing commercialisation before something, beyond redemption, takes us forever away from a light and blinds love because we seem to have forgot. Dollars make us toil without selfless relief...

https://www.evernote.com/shard/s315/sh/aecbf413-e5ce-41d1-8804-e83356d0f692/035dcd2698cfca7e4352d600c9e6a6da My first ever memory of cheese was Dairy Lea - full of dairy goodness (I think). Triangles of cheese often sticky fingers foiled again between French and PE. The Laughing Cow? Not until my teens. Primula in tubes? Not sure I was keen. Kids go for Dairy Lea. Unwrapping those shielded triangles and fading out of the eighties to 99% of Gargoyles look like Bob Todd. Some times mother would intrigue us youths with Norwegian Jarlsberg and Jacob's Crackers Australia was only Tasty Cheese and Coon (we POM's did snigger!). Then the gap between comprehensive school and university of COOP universally not comprehending cheddar, distressed cottage, yellowed cream and blandly processed spray on sunshite for Bird's Eye Burgers until my final year when a cheese shop opened in Jesmond Newcastle upon Tyne then matured Gruyère, Montegomery's or Quickes' Cheddar and Shropshir...