A rebel without a clue.

So I returned to the flat just after noon, with no intention of leaving it all day, as I tried to cope with the various distractions which came from all directions. As the clock crept towards home-time, for those working around the centre and traveling through the various arterial roads around my flat, the kids were playing nehnah-nehnah on the landing, there was a clattering of metal objects falling on the construction site, which pervaded the rainy space between it and level eleven, towards my oversensitive hearing and the sounds of reversing continued like a monotonous and tedious lullaby drilling into my skull ... Oh and then there was another car alarm to add to the joy, but hew it was brief ... And then there was a siren drawing me to my doom as the JCB continued to reverse beyond 6pm. After all that I slept undisturbed until 5. When I rolled over, in the post dream haze, until opening the curtain I was greeted by rain once more, and stripped the bed to wash the linen. Heatwave i...

From 6am until late, in the early evening, there has been a JCB construction vehicle reversing, with the audible warning alarm/siren/noise, even on Sundays. The usual traffic noise around the flat and the occasional siren of police or ambulance or fire engine I've grown accustomed to, because I've been here since 2015 and can usually meditate on it until it no longer causes me grief, but the last several months of trying to accommodate this reversing sound and the additional noise of the people who have been working around my tower block, as part of the insolation upgrade, is making me go insane. The man below me with his pounding techno music and the children running around the communal space outside my flat, and belting a ball against my door, mean I am unable to switch off properly. Add to this the noise of boy racers, motorcycles without silencers and a distant sound of music over the weekend means that this flat feels like a form of torture...

Mood so low I didn't leave the flat all day yesterday and was in bed 70% of the time. Looked at the mess around the flat, sighed and went further into bed... The world needs to open up for me. It seems to be going that way, but only if I flee to France on Wednesday... I've accommodation in Beauvais,  with two fellow pilgrims, at the Gites d'Etape. Then the previous few years are completed. Will I live through this? Good question. Beginning another journey. This is the end of something ... Not cherished the period of yo-yoing the X99/X98 and beer/no beer as it's cutting my life back dramatically. I couldn't do 10000 push ups, like Robert is for charity, but I can walk while the heart and brain don't split or a canker develops hidden within this dermis.

Monday morning and I am low. How do I rise above this feeling? Things which occurred, which I feel irresponsible for, are playing heavily on my mind. As a consequence of not qualify for PIP I am almost recoiling, or is it uncoiling, in my mind. Seeing no way forward which isn't just one more pointless task trying to keep rolling the ball up that hill. Being on benefits is very hard to make ends meet, anyway, and when that income is halved due to the point scoring system, which accumulates to say this person gets PIP, but has no actual criteria purely for mental health issues (anxiety, depression, phobia, etc). I haven't seen the letter which gives me the option of a second opinion, before heading along the long road to the tribunal, but last time I didn't score on managing my life in the flat. Since moving to the flat in 2015 I have never decorated it. It's got exactly the furnishings that were already in place and the sofa emmanus provided, the washing machine Robert b...

Start of Tuesday, doing the usual clearing up after myself at Ruby's abode before Mo and Tony return later this morning, and I've broken a vase... The only thing I recall breaking while here looking after things? The roller blinds caught the thing on the window sill and the arms come off ...  ... Got back to the flat and there wasn't the dreaded missive from the DWP, so I thought perhaps I will be OK after all, but then this morning part of the world I've been used to since 2017 - when I won the appeal at the tribunal - fell apart and I am in the same position I was when I lost PIP in 2016 - terminally short of funds and no better mentally at all. Even though I emphasized how bad things have gotten, since the end of COVID restrictions last summer, I am back - so far back What's the point? Why do I keep carrying on? Feeling helplessness... The world is relentless. From every angle I feel threatened. I left the flat because the noise around it is simply too much now. ...

Forgetting names: Names of people I rarely see. Is there a finite memory bank for names of people who I don't think of for most of the time? Rory.  So what is the Glastonbury Fesy about in the 21st century? Is it just another place for the commonplace to get commoner? Or is a place to still find the outliers it must've once been ... Have you ever walked down Glastonbury high street and seen how phony it is? I have, twice, and it's plain pointless. Obviously this is where all the leylines intersect... Somewhere totally banal and bland. Perhaps the universe and it's creator are very boring drab and obsessed by crystals... The world I inhabit is getting louder and louder. For instance there is a person talking to another person on the bus and another person has text alerts switches on. And in the flat yesterday I had the sounds of sirens, alarms, reversing signals, the dismantling of scaffolding, bird song, hard dance music played by the operatives working on the flat, har...

An evening of firsts and lasts. Came along to the War on Drugs concert at the Piece Hall, in Halifax, with Nick (as he thought I'd like it)? On another occasion it would be interesting to view the hall and also the part of Halifax we came through in the taxi, wiith its large 'Stray-like' common and the Georgian/Victorian houses pouring down into the Calder valley and into the focal point of the minster and hall. But the sheer number of people in the venue for the 'gig', and the rigid security which I have no experience of previously, as all my live music visits were in another era, more than a decade ago, when the threat of acts of violence weren't a constant fear. So I went and got Nick his drinks during the first few songs, and kept trying to locate him amongst the throng - which I eventually did in my head when knew where he was on relation to the others in his sector. As the music got louder, and the crowd were screaming their joy, I saw that Nick has a true...