A rebel without a clue.

It is eight thirty The zombies join me I wait for them never to appear But they hardly disappoint. Beautiful blue skies White gulls far away Green seas calm Before the winter foam. Not enough ... Concrete stance Frail and lacking Formless Puzzling Saturday? Why should I see a stripped down universe? Did you strand me here? Too much Too young Until the end For something so ancient. Amongst Hard working Little thinking Too tinkering Fools You sit beautiful And reclined I sigh For youth Love for youth. A labyrinth is the complex ways Our seldom easy to plan means NHS can only slowly rattle A poisoning tail at the end of a path. Physiological, tick. Security, tick. Belongingness, no. Esteem, no. Self-actualised? Improbable. Being aware of awareness Inner peace and stillness In the face of the hurricane Of humanities farce.

Working in the weight Inside eyes frightened Scaled in to lateness And your verisimilitude. All psychopaths are ruling us now From the first dawn of consciousness Until the sunset upon this broken throne God it is bad. Gregg Wallace Is a crudely pictorial Probably false Faked from buttons to face. Didn't you realise? Is it possible I've lost interest in Facebook? But am I alone? First I got bored of television, then computers now I enjoy sleep. Oh, dark energy - you flood Our light minds with fear All we think we knew is false Arriving on shore without pilot or mast. The universe is a hologram How can a string vibrate 'one dimensionally'? Take me away from here. Flex a wrist, right No blood there Sure to run free at Least expectation. Today is likely to be numb And suffering mouth feel Which speaks of astringency When something happened Drinking a cup of Jasmine Tea. Is the decline of the pub the reason for the increase in male loneliness...

Nothing I do is worthless It is a reflection of Truth Troth to being and equal not being Holy is the whole reality Discernible in pure view.

Those forgotten happy thoughts And those elusive happy dreams That is the way out of this - I heard you say Or so it simply seems For those who can never see it I feel Glued to a simple seldom questioned singular thought. Alone? But I like alone: I think this yet reverse it often. Seams split and unpacking at extremes, truthfully. Can I tell? Why can't you taste this sourness? The body occupies a strip of land at the end of time, battered Assaulted without hesitation nor finger precious lingering This is 2014 so all falls foul and we are deeply mired souls Nightmares do guide; coming along this hideous way Death soon will lead me beyond the hatred in man. To think I actually thought I'd run away? But to find the truth ... And then return to rebuild Eden to discover only lies Antagonism of my self is the only result found Distraction doesn't come unstuck from the page Flames should burn it black and finally. Broken isn't...

Broken am I? Thinking not I ... Blank is last - Zero, I am. Not ready for what is next. Fear, so therefore can't leave. Waiting with loose bolt This final thing, anthing, A hand shakes and nerves hasten I can not do; more and more fail. No more chance; Is this the meaning of knowing? I flapped my wings too close This time with such descent Burned it beyond connecting true How nothing thou art, being! Why am I suicidal yesterday, today and tomorrow Eleven bells: are those deep breaths? Shallower now No joy for me means Inside a mist stretches my head A thick fog reaching over my thoughts. Dreams only disappear with a Cold cloaked foe leaning me Flat.

Discovering Michael Chapman, from Hunslet, Leeds, via Cornwall, John Martyn and Roy Harper.  I have mistaken May for summer and now it's raining and I have no jacket to wear. I've written up yesterday's journal over a filter coffee and a refill and the free wifi that makes that Jewish hegemony worthy, just. Mum's new guy is taking her to Otley. She's taken her Vivitar par excellence hd movie camera on this grey and wet day. (We sell boxes We box sellers We boxers sell Our unused gloves Eventually.) I think that the whole second world war was staged so the Yanks could take over the planet. Why did Hitler declare war on the USA when he was fighting the soviet Russians and British Empire already? What a stupid man or was it a vast plan for the slow tortoise to be there at the end when the blitzkrieg went nowhere and didn't succeed in the time necessary for the policy? Shear weight of numbers and resources won the war in Europe. The evilness of the naz...