A rebel without a clue.

A tearful morning. An image of a Vizsla crawling onto a bed and All I Need Is A Miracle playing alongside and I get the emotion engendered there ... When nothing fits, when nothing makes me smile, and am in the pits of despair, I can only return to Lola to help keep me going along the dark weary road I trudge. A proxy, but that image encapsulates why, without her, I would not be here. One careless whisper and months of positivity melt into the cracks of existence once more. People are cruel and I don't need any of them in my life; give me another moment with Lola and things will, just about, soldier on. ... Bored of war! Another conflict being created to keep us bickering and fighting amongst ourselves. Why can't they say enough is enough. There are more important things than conflict. Harmony and unity, brotherness and togetherness. *** For several months I have managed my mental health without SNRIs because I had been keeping certain things at arms length: COVID-19 does that ...

Sitting back in my morning place: by the bay window looking out into the darkness. Watching the gradual awakening of the street. The birds on the roof opposite, the children dropped off with Diane across the road, the cars which head east up the way to another destination. Monday morning. The weekend was a tough one. I didn't enjoy it one bit, but it's taught me a lesson: don't trust anyone because they are venomous snakes and will bite and devour at the first opportunity. Although it was an opinion of someone who doesn't matter to me it still cut me deep and, because someone I do value added salt to the wound, the soreness festered. No one likes me because I don't work. That word. Work. My mind doesn't work either, but they cannot see that for the reality it is. A man who has severe mental health issues - and has cut his own wrists as a cry for help - thinks he knows what the remedy to my problems are! But his problems are fathomless. They go so deep it's h...

Falling off the waggon coincided with falling foul of Adrian and Jason. It was followed by a crappy Saturday where, although I didn't hit the bottle, I felt hopeless against those who have negative attitudes towards me. People who really don't wish me well. But that was a couple of days. Minor days. Today is Sunday and, like Sisyphus, I must keep trying to get that boulder back to the top of the hill? First the first time in ages I walked via Wothersome, Thorner, Birkby Hill, Red Hall and Elmete Drive towards Leeds, but at no time did I feel peaceful, preoccupied by the voices in my head. It's a stiff lesson to learn that no one I loosely call 'friend' is compassionate about my mental health and wellbeing. There is one or two I feel are true friends who seem to understand more about what it is like to have these voices braying at me keeping me in this bad place? So start again. Pick up the heavy weight and carry it on my back. Carry on with my final year being this ...

Glenn and I are off to Andalusia. The price of a LFT has crashed to around £6! Why were the likes of Randox allowed to charge whatever price they felt like back in 2020 and 2021? Now they've probably got a vast quantity of test kits which will soon be quite literally worthless to everyone, and will get dumped on somewhere third world or unrecyclable: probably Romania, Bulgaria or Ukraine. Oh and the UK government has sent military hardware to the Ukraine. Just as COVID vanishes up pops the other nonsense: war, conflict, aggression; sphere's of influence! Oh I don't know! Isn't the Ukraine really Russia anyway. It's definitely not western Europe as they are mainly Russian Orthodox... Go figure. I would advise those who are being slapped on the back by the US, UK, et al, that they're using you to sell weapons and ideologies!  The US doesn't care about the Ukraine, but they do like to keep the tangle of conflicts carrying on. Life doesn't matter at all in t...

To change my life in someway. At the moment, although I have the enthusiasm for change, things outside my control: my mother's situation, are preventing me from being bolder than I have been during my experience of the Camino. It's in my power to walk away from all this responsibility, and let mother stagnate further, but I do feel a little compelled to stay around her very small circle. My decision to make this year count has a long way to go. What I'd like to do now, as a knee jerk reaction to the last 2 years of various Lockdowns and the machinations of COVID-19, isn't as important as what needs to happen in the next 12 months. If by the next Candlemas, in 2023, I am still buzzing around the honey pot of Wetherby then I have clearly failed. This is a focus I am not going to allow to drift into nothingness. *** The end of another working week. Friday. Lola and I will catch the bus away from Wetherby today. It's been around a month, I guess, since last we climbed o...

A wonderful morning with Lola followed by an average few hours surrounded by folks I have nothing in common with... The hours from 4 until 7 were the dullest I have known for a while. It's not them, they always seem content discussing minutiae, but me. I listened to their conversation about watches quite blank of emotions for so long; I had nothing to add to the monologue - discussion - of the other three. I was more interested in the 12 year old mongrel I'd passed on route to the urinal to pass out the chocolate stout and dark mild I didn't want to quaff. Jason was wearing yet more 'boxfresh' attire. That's all he ever seems to do outside of the world he watches on the large screens on the wall. He seemed genuinely shocked I didn't recall that the aliens on Futurama were from Omnicron Persei 8 because I haven't seen an episode since 2007(I think) and it's simply not on my radar now. 15 years ago! A lot has happened since 2007. I've gone mad for ...

Blood and Bottles Stumbling down Woodhouse Lane, a way I never tread, before ten I almost got wrapped beneath the tires if a Porsche Carrera. The chucked bottle I rolled over nearly took me into the carriageway, but I stayed, picked it up, swore and deposited it in the bin alongside Walkabout. Yes, it's Sunday morning! After a malignant Saturday evening, played out on the Leeds streets, I walk passed litter, shattered glass and blood, (which is trying to find a way out). All I can do is swear and then carry on. *** The bus was late, because they are working on the new bypass up on Red Hall hill and the X99 has to detour through Shadwell, so I didn't get up to the allotment until after noon. Then after two more hours I drifted into Wetherby to continue reading the final section of the memoirs I am reading. Mother hadn't moved all day, by the looks of things, when I returned at six: she hadn't even gone to the Morrison's Petrol station to get some bread. It was a nice...