A rebel without a clue.

Feeling a little darkness inside. I'm still wasting my effort on nothing Hoping those without vision finally spring out of the dullness. I'm wasting money, braincells and too many moments on nothings. And I'm still doing it. Such a fool. What is the point. There isn't one. The things I've done are history and are meaningless now. Being current and not seeking the previous experiences or looking forward to what cannot be known, so should be overlooked. Why do I persist at this atrocity? How did I get stuck still looking deep in the hoof print for another truth/reality? It was always a bad dream in which there are waking intervals where all I am looking for is a free glass of water and no more incomprehension. There is another way, but it breaks everything I've ever relied on. And I'm appallingly afraid of the help it offers!  It's almost 8 years since I found the other way, but I spend too often waiting... I'm not sure how to take the next step? How d...

What is my current purpose? To learn patience and discover will power; delay gratification. Stop thinking that this moment is all there ever is. Plan for the future by being different today from what I was yesterday (all the yesterday's). Get it right, every day. Not fail to move forward and beyond the quagmire, which sucks me back, before I drown in repetition of foolishness.

Everyday repeats. Get what repeats correct. To get this day correct. The sun shines and the gulls bask in the late afternoon glow. And I drank beer. *** Mike from Bad Vilbel in Germany, the guy who stayed with me before COVID and who made a film about Jenny the Arabian mare in Fechenheim, sent me a greeting card with two images of Jenny on it and wished me to keep my spirit. He's a good man. A genuine man who I'd really like to visit soon. We have a Camino to walk along. *** I don't want to waste my 50th birthday. Really it doesn't mean anything at all reaching half a century? I guess in centuries gone by it was some real achievement when the life expectancy could be as low as 25 years of age? Achievement? That's silly. Is becoming a Gerontion, with absent teeth, sore bones, arthritis in knuckles and losing eyesight, as well as losing my hair and going grey, an achievement? *** What is my current purpose? This is possibly the most nonsensical question I can ask myse...

This is it! This is the final year. It is not the end only the conclusion of a chapter. A willingness to turn over the page without returning to the first leaf to repeat the tale over read. If I don't take my self out of the mire now I will be only sinking further and deeper into a being I did not ever dream I'd willingly be. It has been such a long wasted waiting, pondering any sudden movement which might be a bad mistake, but staying still is most definitely a greater error as I will flounder with nothing to show for anything. Something really scared me and stopped me dead in my tracks. As I look behind and up ahead, jogging on the spot, all my life drains out and that is such an incredible loss. My hair recedes, my teeth fall out, my right knee creeks, my left foot aches and tinnitus swirls between my ears, but do these body expressions matter at all while my mind is open and alert?

Does our need to communicate kill us? As we are driven to be together are we our own undoing? Are we herd animals who need to be part of the same collective? We are not Jonathan Livingston Seagull. But it kills us. But this is evolution. Now we wear a mask, take a test, have vaccinations and sit in booths;  have more tests and have trouble with facial expressions.

The same story told countless times. Every twenty four hours (including the sleeping/dreaming times) the battles between chaos and order. Lola was unsettled last night. She hopped beds around 4 and I couldn't get her back in her bed. After a broken hour and half she forced me downstairs to breakfast and toilet break. Usually, when she stays with me, 6:30 is her consistent breakfast time, followed by a quick piss and crap, before she gets back in her place, rearranges her bedding and returns to sleepy-bye-byes, but she stayed at my sister's house on Sunday night and Finley had come back from his dad's a day early: chaos and disorder exists inside that fragile home for sure. When I collected Lola yesterday morning from my sister's we had arranged for me to collect Lola at 7:30am, but when I arrived no one was awake in that household. If I had my own rented place, which was dog friendly, then she could always stay with me really - mum and Emma would miss Lola in some purel...

Day four in the Big Mother household. Already we conflicted. Late last night Lola wanted a bit of play time: she ran off with an insole and I went to battle for the retrieval and showered her with all the love I have. Within minutes mother was 'grinding' her teeth. On new years eve I had a couple of glasses of wine with my dinner, yesterday none and today I really feel will manage at least a week of Dry January, even while locked in 42 from sun up to sunset. *** Reading through the current instructions about self isolating, after a positive COVID test, I got to the final paragraph which told me explicitly to do all I can to adhere to the rules as long as they don't play havoc with my carefully balanced mental health. The pandemic has definitely put a few more spanners in the works. During the winter of 2019 I definitely felt I was heading in the right direction mentally and physically to 'get over', or to move on, from the large grey, cliff like, blockage stuck in m...