A rebel without a clue.

Christmas Day fades away And Boxing Day opens up with rain. Yesterday Lola, Ruby and I had a lovely long walk, with a few off piste bits to keep them exhilarated, from Chestnut Avenue to The Bay Horse via Lime Kiln Lane and the Old Railway lines. Up on the sides of the railway cutting there is a way, not so overgrown with brambles in Winter. Half way along they both had a spinning crazy moment, dashing everywhere in the leaf litter. Even Lola, with her poorly foot, was in the zone of extreme happiness: it was a joy to behold. They get on so well! Lola goes to some patch to scent mark, or just to check it out, and so does Ruby. Ruby went chasing seabirds as we crossed a field and Lola longed to do the same, but never can with that mangled limb... This morning Ruby sleeps soundly in their bed. Last night I heard what I thought was a nocturnal noise from Ruby so got her out of her crate and brought her, willingly, to her owners main bedroom: she builds herself a nest amongst the pillows a...

Wistful. What is a wist to be full? Wist it wit? Wist is past participle of wit... Looking back and wishing it were now. Last night! I wish it was still now! Or do I? The past is something I can never know for certain happened. All I am aware of is what comes to me now. If I then think of a past now what part of that have I forgotten, purposely or erroneously, which was a central feature of the field of previous now? The gravity well in which I attract or repell. I am matter so I distort space time around me and so alter everything in a subtle manner. Each of us has this tangle of forces.

Like my split personality the day begins pretty peacefully but it ends in alcohol hell. Like Doctor Jeykll and Mister Hyde I pour a tonic for myself as the hours creep onwards. Every other day. So half the year. Then I hardly sleep from 3. I toss and turn with nightmarish thoughts trapped. Trying my left side, right side or on my back: never on my front (I can't sleep that way). By 5 or 5:30 I give in and get dressed. Have a brew and start the uphill climb to being clean again. And I has such a gem like wonderful morning with Lola on the X70 to the Stray and then via Harlow Hill to Valley Gardens. I know she adores a bus journey. And she recognises where we are as we pass through Spofforth, passed the Crimple Beck, to Stonefall Cemetery. At the graveyard we often get off for a walk through the Great Yorkshire Show ground, so she gets a little more focused around there. But it's just a little too muddy at the moment to go there: bring on the spring. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve - t...

As my body breaks down, variously and by degrees, I've realised the body isn't important. The only meaningful reality is the wholesomeness of the mind: deep mind. Yesterday morning, while brushing my teeth, I realized I hadn't had toothache for ages then, by the time i had reached the allotment(around 11am), I had toothache. But what does this mean? Was there an awareness, at a level lower than physical, that a structure was about to collapse, which popped the question into my morning routine, or was thought sent into the body for a physical response? Spooky. This morning I have no tooth ache. But teeth are finite, as is everything within the body, unlike thought, which feels infinite, reaching beyond the limited, but intelligent, housing where the brain and nervous system sits. It'twas 7am on Wednesday 22nd December 2021 just now and never again. Winter solstice came and went and now winter proper will accrete. Just for now and never again. Layers above and levels belo...

Since I've started finding money hidden in the litter, the new style banknotes, I am preoccupied with all the refuse around Lovell Park, but in Wetherby, where the Wombles are very active suddenly there is a gap of thrown trash: which hasn't had time to accrete. However I've not found a brass farthing around LS7! Probably because they don't have money living in that Council heap? Or there is so much litter my eyes aren't up to the job of seeing the blue, brown or purple of the fiver, tenner or twenty pound note? Still you never know? My coffers are so near to zero all the time that finding money or getting something for free is a driving factor in 'survival'. Laughable, as I don't think I'll starve soon or be evicted or run out of clothing to keep me warm ... 2022 will be different. Currently I am taking to charity all the unused items of clothes: things I haven't worn since purchased or for several years. Oh, to live ever so slightly in a time o...

On a dark night, possibly during the low of winter, I walked to or from Andrew Broughton's house, with the deep foreboding that something bad would come as a result of the stupid things which sprang from my mouth in regards Dan Wynne and my first visit to a Police Station to be formally interviewed at their convenience. Then it struck me that I had been born alone, and lonely, and was 19 and still alone and bereft of companionship to a deeper level. Things in Wetherby High School would never be the same. The high of lower 6th with 3 A grades became the absolute possiblity of Unclassified on all fronts in the Mocks of 1992... 1990/91 was a really great year at Wetherby High School however 1991/92 was it's polar twin. The prophecy that I'd spend my entire life alone, but desperate (too frantic) to connect with another soul on a different level than purely platonic, seems to be something between 1991 and 2021 I have fulfilled. Thirty barren years. Apart from the Love I've ...

Sunday morning. The stench of puke and piss lingers like the morning mist in pizza box strewn door and alley ways. * How many folks in Bar3 are in Wetherby Masonic Lodge? I bet Dan Jones is! LOL. * Sunday afternoon. To feel surrounded by folks who would only give me cold shoulder of ham or the board to sleep on, even when they have both warmth and comfort to give? This is why I struggle with Wetherby. Probably seeing something which is not there at all? After doing a shorter hour walk with Lola, where I suddenly felt the urgent need to defacate some watery faeces and used the disabled toilet in Wetherby Sports Association (luckily open because there was a game of football being played on the Ings in the grey dull moment), I went to find a copy of A Christmas Carol. To say modern Christmas is under the influence of Victorianism and Dickens is such an understatement? But I've never read that guilty little book... Since reading   the Lady in the Van  by Alan Bennett I've bec...