A rebel without a clue.

It's too cold in the room without more than a sheet for protection, but I am awake anyway at 5:30am. I really want to be walking away from Palma de Mallorca early. Before the early summer sunshine makes it painful walking into the sun. No power cuts during the night. But deep dreams. Yesterday was too warm to linger out of the shade... So I walked to Ca'n Pastilla in three hours. And found it's one saving grace: I can see the airport from the roof terrace... In truth it was the genuine café, comida mallorquín, next to the Iglesia. And I think I will be walking once more on the morrow so I will probably go back there for an evening meal. But now I am heading first into Reginald Perrin: I know exactly where he is coming from... *** BOC beach hostel. It's too warm in the coffin which is the stupid capsule of a bunk bed. The stupid lights go on all the time so it's impossible to sleep unless cocooned in this trap with the heavy curtains pulled across the gap. And the sp...

A new day dawns. Sunday. A second day of rest and reset? And I am heading to the beach... After another coffee, croissant, orange juice. His grace is given me now and forever. In every way. Always and in all ways. As always, the three gentlemen and the one lady are very calm. They definitely engender a calmness. No hurry. Only patience. It easy like a Sunday morning. *** The fuente up above the town, Son Trias, has a flexible pipe running from it too, so the water goes somewhere, but the guys in Café Passeig  thinks it goes to the sea... I don't think it does. Someone in the town gets that water. Perhaps it is pooled and collected as it was being the day I walked to Banyalbufar? There are a lot of water tankers about so I think it's very precious so must go somewhere, not the sea? *** I walked into Palma from Esporles, via Establíment - where I stopped for a coffee and banana break. Actually I walked to Santa Catalina, not Palma, to We Hostel! As it was the cheapest option. I...

On the corner of Albion Street and Boar Lane. Free coffee from Caffé Nero. Good morning. Draw a line under the negative me since Estaing? What is going to happen today? Mum just told me the airport in Palma has been closed due to adverse weather - heavy rain not falling on the plains of Spain - but I believe that is old news? *** Dead moods. Yes I understand dead moods. When I can not connect with anything to help me claw myself up from the flatness. 2nd time in a few weeks when I can't connect. It's LBA. It's a form of escapism. But it's never going to resolve it unless I face it absolutely head on. Although I know it's always up to me I don't think it's a thing I can chose. Cause and effect.  The world I react to is simply my projection. Voices, in waves, like a tide Overwhelm in foaming murmur; Differential drown, Approaching yet to depart  And return again; spluttering. But no words, only Suggestions, on this dead shore. From a landscape to cloud cover. ...

Tuesday, Very bad IBS. At least five visits to the toilet during the broken night's sleep. Finally climbed out of bed at 4:30am. Yesterday afternoon. Failed again. Two days of sobriety and no more. Nothing to do in the afternoon - once I arrived from the allotment in Leeds - around 13:30. So I bought some groceries and then proceeded to drink. Was I craving it or was I lonely? The loneliness receded a little in North Bar where I stayed for four bottles of beer. I'd had two halves in Brownhill and Co and two more in Whitelocks. Everywhere was pretty desolate with the rain falling along Briggate. A wet Tuesday afternoon. Excellent work in the morning with Lola. And quite a bit of stuff on the allotment. Planted all the remaining corn which I hope develop? These ones I brought back from around Leon last year on the second section of the Camino Frances. And I know I can do three days sober. Before heading to Le Puy-en-Velay I had no problem and felt I'd done something very good...

So many books. Damn you paper and ink. Glue and string. Where did you start? How did you start? What is the inspiration? Has everyone a story to tell? So many rhetorical questions. But also ones which have no meaning. How does anything start? Perhaps with perseverance and discipline. But what is the subject? Is the subject also the object? And the object an obsession. But what obsesses me in this emptiness? My state discontented.

Saturday, It's 6 o'clock. What a day. But I spent less than adequate time with Lola! On Monday she'll be busy busy busy. She enjoyed sharing my sardine pasta dish. I gave her roughly a third, in three scoop shares, before I disappeared, which she ate off the tupperware lid. Managed to cobble together a rockery with the tomatoes Maureen grew and Tony helped me deposit. There were 6, but I snapped one. And I brought two leggy looking french beans with me so I tucked them into the two gro-bags I had remaining and hope the slugs don't get to them... I put one of my own tomatoes in amongst the 5. Then I planted the Maris Piper main crop potatoes next to Andy and Ellie's plot. Just got one set to plant the coming week... Perhaps on Sunday if the weather improves? It's currently raining (it was when I hit the hay). *** Sunday, Break down is a break through? Break through to the other side... If you reach the shore before drowning? The present is a true gift. It is the ...

Monday, Cold. Blue skies. I had to close the windows and put on an extra layer in my half sleep. Coffee. Ruby is buried beneath the blanket next to me on her sofa. The birds are singing and in the distance the A1 buzzes. Monday morning... Earworms last night: bloody George Michael. My mood is low today. I feel nothing really matters ... Life is so ephemeral. It vanishes as if it never existed. It's a constant state of nothingness replacing the tiniest mote for the briefest second: Archie is no more... *** Tuesday, Ruby's by my side. The birds are in fine voice. Some cloud cover and not as cold as Monday morning. Apparently today is going to be a beautiful day? Coffee brewing 5:15am. Awake around 5am. Peaceful. Long long long day. 16:35. I am sat by the back entrance to the 'beer garden', on Scott Lane, of Bar Three (The Three Legs) with a 125ml of Rioja Campo Vejho. A lovely sunny day, but I think I have had 'hay' fever all day or concussion or something else. B...