Easter Sunday

Back in the disappointing town. Shuttlecocking between a dirty metropolis and crisp mediocrity. It's four in the afternoon and I'm not for it!

Resurrection to the same existence is pithy and false: the very first lie is the return. His death meant nothing: no death does; none would return, even if the entire cosmology changed it's structure of unchanging laws for one man, as there is no death because there is no universe; being but dream, a mental distortion, a misperception. Smoke and mirrors.

Wetherby Velo cutting up the ride into a tripe filling and I hate the way some people dissect what they do. They speak as though they physically see the ride they have been on or are going on. On my wandering I never wonder what is ahead, or behind, all I want is now. The present. The fine line between something, anything and nothing: infinity.

Holy Saturday passed too near to another alcohol binge as I caught up with Nick, and Co., at Wetherby Brew Co - it was always going to happen! However I returned pretty happily with Brendan as I then watched Mr Bean's Holiday, eating savoury and sweet biscuits, and all I wanted was to be transported back to France again - I've never been to Provence and it's wonders remain hidden from my eyes.

Definitely going to the allotment this morning. Not sure if it's still slightly premature for tomatoes, but I am definitely risking Sunflower seedlings and the one Courgette which is showing blossom already. One of the Tomatoes is also showing blossom. But the temperature at night is going to be around 5°C so not risking it...

This is Easter Sunday and I am going to treat it as such... I will awake and be different. I walked the 10 days as part of my Lenten season. Pilgrimage. Next one I am thinking of connecting cathedrals between Saint Paul's and Winchester, and further...

From Saint Paul's it's either head south to Southwark cathedral then go south through Wimbledon on to the Pilgrims Way before heading West...