Diary: October 23

Significant, based plans within this Borderland. Locality resident, raising standard, torn and ragged by insidious orchestrated folly. Risen from a Scottish Border horizon, beside a lonesome friend. Broken thoughts, besieging self; untying "have knots" we'll raise our buried, concealed by dirt; returning stolen hearts, wagered by clenched fist of hurt.

27th

The stool test I took several days ago to detect Helicobacter pylori antigen returned from the laboratory as positive, the surgery attempted to notify me a few days ago of the result using an old phone number that has now been updated to my new phone number. The stool test I took months ago for another antigen, before this previous test, was not followed through with this as an additional test, so I have been suffering this horrid infection for a very long time; to have suffered this has incurred much sleepless misery.

The good doctor has prescribed a combination of Amoxicillin 500mg and Clarithromycin 500mg, taken twice and once daily; I am hoping they'll swiftly shift this tormenting discomfort from cramping my stomach as an infection with H. pylori is linked to the development of 5.5 per cent of all cases of cancer worldwide. I walked Sam the sheepdog around Hawick today, across the river Teviot, down through the high street to the surgery. It's positive to be about talking to people, with hypervigilance dissipated anxiety triggers are milder.

Sam pulled lead toward scents, not used to walking about town; having only lived on countryside farms. My hands are painfully sore, exploiting a vulnerability to dissociate into a dispossession of "sleepwalking". I've been unaware of my surroundings for many years due to ailing mental health; being aware can be emotional leading to evasiveness; a dysregulation cultivated from emotional borderline personality disorder, wrought from a vacant and disturbed childhood from mother's infliction of paranoid schizophrenia.

My life, given a home by Scottish Borders Council has habitual stability of locality; due to the efforts of Charlie my projection is validated, attaining structure of purpose defining a sense of process, envoking reward from a sense of completion. The past is painful, resurrected by voids of emptiness incurred as life altercatered, from human waste I'd become, incurring a systemic feeling as though almost shunned to near death. Efforts of repair are enamouring, but rediscovery of self worth often rolls salty tears from cheeks upon an upturned smile.

Inclusion seems distant, as if eons beyond reach from thousands of anxiety fuelled miles travelling alone in remoteness of wilderness, with only contemplation of deprivation as an inconsolable companion arriving from distraught, shattered shards of retrospective. These are not our peoples feelings, but a disconnecting contempt procuded from systematic detachment of our well being as an embodiment of people. Faded into shadows, reanimated again and again from maligned dispossession; inflicted to deminish humanity irrepairable.

26th

A neighbour reposted to his timeline an alarming video uploaded to Facebook, recording a member of the public testing purity of tap water via hydro electrolysis and TDS measurement. In the video both tests were performed using filtered water at a test subject in comparison to tap water of the same volume. Whilst the filtered water remained clear, the tap water accumulated a muddy layer of arsenic and cyanide silt above an inch of bluish haze alleged by the video maker to be bacterial contaminant.

During the video, the presenter claims to have received a response from an information request to the water authority in his area, stating that the water is contaminated, not only with arsenic and cyanide, but also other potentially toxic elements. This video is gravely concerning, and I suggest not drinking tap water but rather sourcing drinking water from a local spring and purifying with any filtering process available to hand. Marxist 4IR "lifetime" utopians from Davos indiscriminately wanting masses of people depopulated from our world.

Viewing this water testing video, the film Dr Strangelove came into my mind, in view of a fictional character from the film named Brig. Gen. Jack Ripper blaming Communist Russia for contaminating his "precious bodily fluids" via fluoridation of his tap water. There is also uncanny relevance to Maoist Communism by the mass cyanide poisoning inflicted by Christian Communist cult leader Jim Jones; we know television programming is used to mass condition the public into preempt acceptance of a now unacceptable then unfathomable situation.

Today I witnessed a carer of a middle-aged female neighbour below my flat deliver [via a black jaguar] a plastic / cardboard box of stacked adult size nappies, each nappy appeared printed with cartoon images. The neighbour does not go out often; other than angry yelling at her wee dogs I've only heard Disney movies from her flat, and the only clothes I've seen her wear are a toy themed adult onesie. I assume her to be an Adult Baby Diaper Lover, and am left wondering if other neighbours within the flat block are akin to the same assumption.

23rd

Been very active this month, and slipped the desire to post pictures I've noticed about my life. My health has been OK, however I still have pains in my stomach, and not yet received results from a test to detect Helicobacter pylori antigen. The Scottish Border NHS surgery does not notify of negative test, however I'm still experiencing symptoms. Charlie is still on holiday from work, I am enjoying extra time with him; our two-day adventure into England was flavoured, and hampered.

Today I am uploading pictures of our journey onto this website. We returned to the farmhouse, Charlie set about scrapping ye olde sheep trailer, whilst I decorated, and sprayed what was left of the weed killer onto nettle heaps within the farmhouse paddock.

Purchased Charlie a new replacement phone today, hoping this phone does not end its life underneath a tractor plough as his other phone did. I've lost many phones myself, in bogs, burns, heavy rain; sometimes they were stolen. Tonight I'm tired, in many ways exhausted; I am glad there is hope for this world, now I know our Gods will not touch or dwell with evil.

22nd

Approaching midnight, we reached Scotch Corner A1/A66 service station. Emersed in tiredness, Charlie pondered upon an ANPR notice allowing only two hours parking. We had aimed to get a few hours sleep here; but left at 1:15am to travel towards Penrith.

Gaining three hours sleep near a village named Bowles, we continued our journey, reaching Long Meg stone circle at day break. I've visited many stone circles throughout the UK, but it's always interesting watching Charlie's observant reactions. We drove north stopping at a cafe in Haltwhistle for breakfast. Several miles from Haltwhistle we found a quarry lake nearby Hadrians wall; a divide constructed to contain and culture artifical scarcity within Scotland, and not just to keep the Scots out of England.

From here we drove to the "ramblers" town of Bellingham, this town is not a ramblers welcome town at all; as also wrongfully claimed by Moffat. We parked to locate a bothy named Roughside, that, disturbed by goings on at Bellingham, I'd found shelter of scantity at a few years ago, there was also a castle named "Dally" that had the appearance of Hermitage Castle, originally belonging to the Lindsey family, I wanted Charlie to explore and experience.

21st

We rose early, taking a duration of two hours to leave the farmhouse. We planned our destination to be Whitby, stopping at any place of interest in-between. I initially had optimism that our journey would not be hampered by the apostolate, but each costal resort became a stage platform, an affront encroaching exploitation of presence; a reanimation seeming liberating for them but as usual an unwelcome decimation for us.

Hungry we pulled into a roadside café along the A68, about two miles east of Byrness village.

Charlie said he recalled a roundhouse being built here a while ago.

Our first place of interest was inland, a Victorian history museum named Beamish. We turned away from the museum's ticket office, noticing a £25 each entrance fee because the price exceeded our limited budget.

We drove south to Seaham; I was bewildered to find people beach combing for diamonds, a beach comber defined as glass. Charlie believes the beach combers regularly arrive after storms; observing this rabble scrabble a rock song by WASP: "I wanna fist full of diamonds" entered my mind, but perhaps they were also searching for Jet.

Filming the choppy sea, my camera, mounted onto a small tripod, was tipped over my a small wave.

It was a relief to know my iPhone 14 is waterproof; however, the charging point became damp. Bizarrely, the back of the iPhone was encircled by a ring [around the logo] of what appeared to be rough particles of magnetic iron. Seaham was busy, as we reached the harbour the weather calmed; through a metal gate I ascended steps onto the harbour wall and took a video of crashing plumes of white waves against Seaham's concrete harbour wall.

We rested at Teesmouth National Nature Reserve, to the right of us was Hartlepool Nuclear Power Station. Nuclear power has a history of being safe and unsafe, but isn't it a crazy assumption, expecting somebody to tend to a fire that'll burn itself out only after a supposed half life of 24,100 years? And then there is smouldering decay plutonium-238, 239 and uranium 234, 235. Will we as a human race still exist then?

Flying a protective sense of national pride, perseverance of brutalised and alienated national identity; yet all other nation flags, foreign to our people fly unabated, even raised by civic administrations across this here country of England, though in earlier times before "backdoor multiculturalism" [mass migration never had democratic consent of a post-WW2 British people governed by elected democracy], historically condemned as an act of treason. These days British people get attacked by Third Worldism for flying the English flag in England; however Scottish, Welsh and Cornish flags remain strong.

Dusk began to settle as we travelled over a northern ring road by Middlesborough. Initially we had planned to prebook bed and breakfast accommodation but chose to keep our travel plan secret, we thought better to book at the door. The accommodation I discovered via google maps in Robin Hood bay was full, there was also a music band playing there that night. We agreed to sleep in the car for a night, rather than spend £130+ on a small room for a mere several hours.

Returning from Robin Hood bay, Charlie wanted to visit the ruined abbey south of Whitby. I took a photograph from along a footpath, arriving from the abbey's car park.

We enjoyed coffee and cake at the abbeys YHA cafe. Finding a long stay car park near to Whitby's railway station, we walked towards toward the sea; from along the harbour side, noticing a floating restaurant.

The sun had set by the time we arrived at the bay. The chilling dusk wind blew tort expression across the harbour.

Along the harbour I was mocked by a family member groomed into revulsion by the apostolate; although I received the insult I kept my head up and ignored the laughing remarks; those making themselves unknown to me through the "freeze" that they melt only with debased scorn; hence unfounded.

We found a fish and chip shop, a ten-minute walk from the harbour, although the chips were greasy the fish was fresh. The frier had won many awards, and the counter service was responsive and civil. Returning towards the harbour bridge I noticed a pub named "middle earth" on the swinging board hung "Golem" from Lord of the Rings; I smiled and envisioning that heretic Welby. The bridge was a swing bridge opening for two hours upon request, Charlie showed some interest in the mechanics.

Saturday evening was becoming obnoxious, triggering hypervigilance and anxiety, so we departed from Whitby, choosing to find a quiet village pub somewhere on the North Yorkshire moors. After enjoying a pint we parked our 4x4 by a scenic viewpoint but was spotted and encroached by a passing car. Charlie fired up the 4x4, and drove quiet lanes towards Scotch Corner A1/A66 junction.

19th

Charlie has five days off work, we had planned to go on a travelling holiday, but heavy rain and a shortfall of money has localised this period to rest rather than adventure. At the farmhouse we have almost completed decoration of our guest room; at the expense of only £40 and three days graft. The walls were damaged, previous occupants had wallpapered, but we filled and sandpapered the walls, and applied a coat of white paint.

18th

No frost this morning, last night temperatures dropped significantly; I suffered this sharp incline during my years of travel, one must always be wary of the outdoors catching well being offguard.

17th

The Omeprazole I took yesterday appears to have worked, it's a relief to be free of acid reflux burning my lungs, making me choke. The burping is still present, but has declined, the doctor diagnosed dyspepsia / gord; considering long term complications I'm not really happy about this at all. I've been given a stool test to detect Helicobacter pylori antigen, a known cause of peptic ulcers, this combined "potential cancer causing" attack appears launched against my esophagus.

We follow strict hygiene at the farmhouse, Detrol soaps by every sink, surfaces are antibacterial sprayed and floors bleached daily. Charlie has no symptoms, so I am suspicious. During travels across the UK I was spiked with illness, beginning in India in 2008 and 2017 being poisoned with Gastroenteritis (often lasting ten days!) confining me to bed, before auspicious events. I was spiked with water from a "treated well"; inflicting month long peripheral edema.

16th

Rang doctors surgery about severe cramping, stabbing pains roughly about my upper gastric tract; receptionist provided a cancelled appointment for an hour later. Treatments provided from doctors and nurses from this surgery have improved my health significantly, and I feel positive visiting and departing from consultations. I limit my contact with Hawick high street, as generalised anxiety will curdle the buildings with darkness; keeping thoughts positive and embracing civility voids associative feelings of despair that stigmatised my presence in Galashiels.

Our Herdwick ewe and lamb are making progress, both ewe and lamb are gaining weight, and alas aligning with the other lambs in the herd. Tonight I heard the ewe baa, she is much lighter on her feet, and reaches to feed from the top of a hay bale, inclining from longer durations. Our Zwartble lamb (one of the triplets) cough has gone, after being wormed again, Charlie believes she had spat out the initial dose of wormer as none of the other lambs in the herd became sick. Tonight we are enjoying warmth by our open fire, from logs given to us by a thoughtful neighbour, how special is that!