A rebel without a clue.

Last night I awoke from another dream: I truly saw the darkness pervading from The Brunswick. My subconscious threw the majority of the Founders KBS 2016 onto their wooden floor and up the wall. As I really didn't know just how truly rotten Nick was, until I was presented with an array of vastly overpriced Belgian beer (obviously gotten suspiciously from a recently closed down beer shop) lined up guiltily in the fridge. It was around half eight and there was no one in the bar apart from the Sycophants who pressed around Nick like he's some Gangsta and this is his meatball diner. Dark ... Never again. Sam has an outer shell encased in tattoos, but somewhere beneath he has a soul. Nick may be a anthropomorphic hell? Or maybe, like Shelob, he prepares to pounce and vent venom and devour the helpless for all eternity? It made my skin crawl, and my disposition was to flee, so my subconscious threw the vile retch to his knees as polished the dark brew off of the wall and skirting boa...

Visit three. North Street Deli for an omelette and peppermint tea. And to try to get Jason along with me for a dog walk this morning: he's off to the Gym. No bother. Will see him later this afternoon. Naga chilli is the death of me. Purge. Dégorge. Dégustation. Old age? What is a dogs purpose? To leave us heart broken? Reeling from emotion. A long walk ahead of us. 3 hours and nine miles: she's a fantastic dog!

Curry dreams and other after effects. The strangest epic nightmare. And now the bodily consequences of a very hot Naga spiced mutton dish. By eck, they definitely like their curried delicacies very hot. The last time I had a curry quite so extreme was from Ali Raj in the 90s. The dream was a saga of getting home, which I finally managed as I woke sweating and desperate to hit the porcelain. Marcel Proust was the only way out of the dream. Bus, café, runaway bus, crashing through a barrier of a building(Victorian Infirmary) into an Egyptian/Sumerian ruin next to a river. Sideways sliding towards the Nile/Euphrates/Ganges/Indes, where it came to rest at the beginning of human recorded history. I was unscaithed but was lost in time having to return to the current over so many hurdles. In the end I'd been interviewed by the "east European" police as a witness to the original runaway bus, put back on the correct path (thinking there were simply too many routes to follow to ev...

It's definitely made me twitchy. Four days without coffee and now I know why it's such a bad idea on an empty stomach. How do I stop? Decaffeinated seems wrong. And a cup of tea isn't the same. Maybe the toast will help? Tattoos. I've never really understood them. Isn't it the same as self mutilation or self harming - by proxy obviously. To show an allegiance to some distinct brotherhood separated and special from the absolute Brotherhood. As an individual I dislike groups because that is another way we are divided. As an individual I feel more of the collective than I would as a special element of the minority. It's a paradox of my nature. Suits are the same, Levi's or Nike. Branded and separated. Yesterday a guy, and his wife, left The Bay Horse to drive away in his Ferrari. Fully chalked up in their own distinct "better" class of separateness. We'd both seen the same Escort MK2 RS2000, but, while I only saw a car I'd not seen since the ...

Saturday morning has almost gone, and I've been on the go since sunrise, so I definitely need the remainder of the day to get cleared of all the fatigue from my recent walk in France, and the long, endurance sapping, journey back, to some semblance of restfulness and clarity. Today I'm up in Kirk Deighton to watch after Emma's dogs while they've headed to Spain. The weather is splendid. The dogs are happy and the nettle tea is on top form. There is nothing better than the first wash of tender tips. I took Charlotte out for a gentle stroll, as she's a little under the weather, and picked a large-ish arm full of the purple heads. The cows have returned to the Glebe, but not so many so far (I wonder if they are coming in stages), the bull is yet to put in an appearance. The field is lush and I know the calves will be getting the best milk direct from grass to teat! So far 2019 is a good year: and it's heating up nicely as they kick off the new cricket season on Mar...

Prophets become a means of profits for the untrue. Prophets are captured and put in reliquaries. Bits of bone and wood, Thorns and nails, Hair and things; they've touched, Contain nothing. Expensive to recoil in fear From Him who only Loves. Lay aside this worry and hear Reality requires emptiness; Clear.

Slightly burnt croissant. Good espresso and filter, but no Tartine and no jam! Bugger. I'm off back to The North via the Palace of Winchester and Clink. Vinopolis is no more. Fled up to the North side. Through Corum's Field and Chancery. Now waiting safely in King's Cross with a bag of goodies courtesy of Fortnum and Mason. ... Time flies and I am waiting for the X99 to see my girl, which has been too long. Leaving Lola is very hard to do. But I know she'll be expecting me this morning. It is back in its box, under the bed and forgotten for a while. It has to be left alone and quiet! It will laid dormant for aeons or until June!