Something rotten.

What makes me lose it in a town like this? Really because I am bewildered by it. Feeling pointless and watching the world speed by unable to connect on any level with it. Not having the skills to rationally deal with the circumstances of "having" to be here. It is always the same problem which repeats itself and I never able to see before it hits me. Before it's too late and I'm in the one state I dislike most. All the good mind work feels undone in one disappointing afternoon. The lack of self-control at this exact moment.

And then it's the usual pain in my neck: Americans in Lourdes talking extremely loudly about their "itinerary". I've not heard an English voice in a few weeks and now it is than predictable, superficial American drawl in my head! They get into my veins and give me an ague! Their experience of France seems totally superficial to me  in the way they list everything as though a shopping list. Is it arrogant of me to feel superior because I trod every step of the way from Béziers to Lortet? Please don't speak for me - I cannot cope with how you talk: stereotypical. How do I to ignore them? Please I really can't manage it, they speak English and every word strikes ...
Decided to move away to the bar, quick smart, away from the table, however it was a lovely confit de canard and that was last meat for a long time.

***

Last night I saw a bottle of Haig on a shelf in The Passage which made me reflect on the Great War again! A name which stimulates great emotions in me: Haig. How could he, amongst thousands, sleep ever soundly planning, as they did, that huge catastrophe?

If I were to visit him/them one night would it be worthy of me to remove a many many layers of their existences, so they could only crawl along the abyss like a crab, for every life they robbed, nibbling the rotten corpse of a long dead whale in competition with all the other creatures? Take them down strip by strip - but they knew not what they were doing (let it be Daniel)!

The bloody war calls again or the Hall of Mirrors? 1919-2019. That was the year I would've wished to see. A calamity befell us then and another calls us now? Despots are beginning again: Iran is the next victim. Versailles made us die again. V for Vengeance. V for bloody victory. Who was this, why do they decide this and what was the real goal?

Lourdes: a town where gentlemen of the cloth take precedence. A mental distortion bruising my brain. It's a world I simply don't understand: it's crazy!

After a third bar time everything seems to be caving in. But this is cool. It's time to sleep and let the other world disappear outside my door: except for bed bugs! This is not the Way at all! The people crawling crawling crawling and creatures sucking blood in every space available.

***

Lourdes is awful and on every level. I'm crawling from bites! I stayed in very flea bitten Hotel! It was the only place I could afford. I'm waiting for the bus with ignorant people who push push push and they've just come from morning mass at the shrine! The people here are very ill indeed. The bus departs. Phew! The bites will vanish and I will vanish, and England will appear. Yes I am quite lucky to be born in that land. Nothing is perfect. Total acceptance of it is my only way to peace.

***

In the airport hell is going on. It always does. Keep away from the piano. Irish kids. Nothing as it should be! Innocence or riddled with corruption. Kid who doesn't understand patience - the guy serving actually shooed him away because he was demanding attention and almost threatening him - must've been 6 or 7

This is the obstacle I always fail at.
I'm sorry. This airport and Lourdes. That's the problem. I've got to stop going through airports and going to places I know I'll find no peace of mind: why would I keep putting myself in danger. It's only a few hours of my life! In Cambridge I will forget this ever happened!

***
Is there solace in Cambridge between the rush of traffic, bicycles and people everywhere? The greens, the leafy lanes and the backs. It's a place where class division is re-enforced. But it has something about it: not just the tourist hordes, shoppers, foul mouthed locals. It always makes me feel pleasant. And I easily meander about not knowing what I will stumble on next. And I'm home.