Archive 10-21

Rosie! Dartmoor 9:57am 9th April 19

Diary: Archive 10-21

Archive Continued 2/3.

January

31st

My lemon trees are still growing through the low-level light of a freezing rain grey cloud of a dampening Kernow winter. I have grown these two trees from organic seed, slow-growing due to me not wanting to use artificial lighting, but should bear fruit in a couple of years!

I had two other surplus lemon trees I had grown which I gave away to friends, these other trees, from the same lemon are not only doing very well but also growing a lot faster than mine are!

24th

Pictures from my twelve-hour, twenty-mile BMX ride yesterday; this may not seem a great distance to some readers but considering I had no gears and twenty-inch wheels I'd say the journey, partly over rough terrain, was substantial. I see such ascetic with my homeland and feel such wonder and awe at the natural world; so why do these journeys feel as an erosion upon my besieged estranged and obscured life, returning indoors smothered and voided with inconsolable loss? As if my soul is torn apart and mutilated.

I recognised part of the route from my April 2020 walk from Falmouth to Truro, being in the vicinity shortly before I was emergency sheltered (by Cornwall Council at Monkey Tree Caravan Park, Goonhaven near Newquay) after months of wandering the streets displaced during the initial outbreak of Coronavirus (COVID-19).

As the sun lowered the wind chill of the air rushing past my body rouse to freeze me, numbing my observations which seem to be voiding, infrequently, into nothing, but I guess this part of dissociation and not just because my brain is slowing down because of the cold.

16th

Today I rode eight miles on my BMX through very muddy woodland.

15th

Another accident has appeared…

I have no idea when or how; this I have read is a common side effect of complex PTSD, but who cares? And who is nobody?

7th

I ride my BMX at least every other day the right kind of exercise is essential, both for mental and physical health.

7th

A long while ago I discovered a little secret about the British “Union Jack” if you cut the flag into four then rotate each piece 45 degrees clockwise you'll not only get a Swastika but also a Diamond and a Brigid's Cross (Tuatha Dé Danann); Brigid was turned into a parody by Christianity.

Does anybody have any idea whose ritual this is, definitely not one of ours; I suggest it is Neopagan revival and related to Freemasonry (All seeing eye implies much is partially hidden, perhaps in plain sight) as the process involves the Four Quarters / Corners.

20

December

31th

Took some frozen pictures whilst walking the Wysis way (Chalford) today, got half a hours walk before the orcs came out to stalk me with body-snatched dying white souls of a treacherous, demonising and now estranged white lineage. Anyhow, let's once more never mind them, dearest racist white friends, enjoy the pictures.

30th

Picture of my new walking boots a kind and concerned friend purchased for me a few days ago..

They are very comfortable on my feet and arrived one day before the first of the snow settled upon the ground.

Today, returned to England I rambled through a copse nearby the highest peak in Gloucestershire; signs of seasonal change were prevalent.

28th

Snow in the Cotswolds with a message in these pictures I took and uploaded..

27th

Spithope Bothy was on unlocked and form, leaving the interior tidy and clean I took a picture of this 1001ft high shelter. Landing upon this shelf of wilderness I often confer with my ancient ancestors attaining an enhancement of ancestral sentient messages arriving throughout the year.

Northern view into Scotland from Spithope Bothy

The compressed, tilted gravel track walk through the racing green forest and onward in descent to our parked car was an atmospherically awesome panoramic aesthetic.

As much as I have grown to enjoy rambling it's nice to take off the many layers of clothes and relax, aware of my presence inside a transient, heated car; warmed with superficial creature comforts.

We turned off before Otterburn onto an empty, deserted road further into the Kielder Forest, today the bright reborn sun was low but clear and crisp bright through the atmospheric freshness of the windy and wild, cold climate but voided into the despair of darkness, this stalk barren emptiness, our enlightening road was pathe with forsaken Gold.

Stopping at Kilder lake parked by the Dam we took breakfast as the wind gently pushed ripples east across the water. The rain was thin, sharp and bitter, I consider the cash crop forest acrid with the lingering smell of stomach bile and not a sanctuary of the permanence of nature to the small amount of moved on wildlife that tolerates its fungus infested darkness.

Whilst enjoying the food I talked to my friend about how sheep had torn up and had eaten the biodiversity of Scotland's plant life, most notably blueberry bushes; after the clearances nothing else remained unscathed to that undisclosed clearance of nature; to those rectangular eyes that glare to bleat unwelcomeness through repugnant throat gargling noises.

I must have perceived our road ahead as we briefly passed through Scotland, a border supposed to be locked down with Tier 4, I expected a roadblock with number plate recognition but only windblown plastic wheelie bins blocked the road after the border had been already crossed, back to bonnie then off back to blighty.

After crossing Scotland's border again on the A7, after some miles I arrived to keep our three years and a day appointment with Castle Rigg Circle stones.

Castle Rig stone circle was aligned almost perfectly so with not much to do here and not many tourists about I set about getting some keepsake pictures stored on my mobile phone.

At times, I am bewildered just to how empty my photos are of people in the UK yet packed full of people in India; because in the UK I was overlooked as lifeless, everything I meant to my people was forsaken in presentation unto another; whom I have never known but yet still know of my own worth regardless of not being able to write anything of my estranged people who voided and deserted themselves from our White ancestral here and now.

5th

Recieved a parcel of goodies from my kind friend in Stroud today.

Socks are toasty and there is frankincense to burn.

4th

Arrived at Paddington Station early.

Look at the evil peering through the seats at me near Plymouth.

Crazy to be subjected to this malevolent intrusion.

November

29th

Think I am over a rocky road today.

Its hard to care for oneself when others figure your selflessness worthless.

27th

She likes these.

I purchase them from the local health food shop.

25th

For twenty years I have known him as Bryan, but since living in Cornwall has called himself Koala.

I called him Bryan, he replied "don't call me that, the [Dominican] nuns named me Bryan", so I called him Koala.

Most of my other friends [as I generally don't have friends] are toy animals, this friend I've named Foxy, he came from Stroud to keep me company.

24th

Lucifer, as an "over the head" [shunned] angel of the north has arrived, in Truro, for a Dominican Xmas.

The design is written by LITE Ltd to be "based on an elegant cosmopolitan warm white thematic style".

Today Lisa gave me a tobacco tin, the guesture reminded me of a Carpenters song "Rainy days and Mondays".

23rd

This is my neighbour; we both struggle with historical problems created by cultured desparities.

Her name is Lisa, people call her Lisa Loud because, usually, wherever she is, she can be heard.

Today we went out for a walk, Lisa told me some of the things that were really bothering her. Scenic view of Truro from this restful location.

21st

Planted a tree today in our shared garden, with a neighbour.

I wasn't aware at the time, but the tree is an acer tree.

19th

As I ventured into our flat block garden from a breath of fresh air I overheard screams and cries. The commotion was venting from a wide-open side window, scrambling through a dense patch of Japanese knot weed I looked through the half window to find a distraught neighbour sobbing whilst sat on his chair. I asked him if he was OK, another neighbour appeared and asserted "he was not well". She key fobbed me into the shoebox flat where I discovered he had deeply cut half his face with a razor blade; the distraught man said he wanted the world to know how much pain he felt inside.

Two neighbours, Lisa and Danny. We all have one thing in common here, our lives had been completely and utterly wrecked.

I asked him where the razors were whilst searching is sparsely decorated flat, no coherent answer surfaced from his semi continuous whisperings. My heart sank deeply finding a get well card signed by his mother and family. I proceed to make him a hot drink to calm his down his nerves to discovered he had returned to his toilet to cut himself again; his neighbour lent against the door pleading frantically to get him to stop. The ongoing commotion raised the attention of a male support worker who immediately told us to leave. I asked the neighbour if she was feeling OK.

We took a walk through freezing misted streets to the cooperative supermarket to pick up some groceries and returned to the flat block half an hour later to find the commotion still in progress. I helped her into her flat with her shopping and talked briefly unto a service worker came and removed me (we are not allowed to be inside each other's flats). This dangerous and life-threatening incident in my view was reckless because:

Untrained residents (each with their own problems) were at the scene attempted to manage a potentially life-threatening situation
After instructing us to go the service worker took responsibility of the scene without assistance.
No emergency services who could have correctly dealt with the situation were called, first responders such as ambulance or police.
The man who has cut his face after calming don was left on his own inside his flat to mop up the blood splats from his injuries at 3am.

In my view the Police should have been called in to immediately to restrain him, disarm and search him for the removal of potentially more razors. He should have then been detained under 136 of the Mental Health Act and transported to a "place of safety" where he could be appropriately psychologically assessed and if need be admitted under section 12 of the Mental Health Act. Having significant experience of mental health procedures (as a detained patient)

Later on in the early hours of the morning he was mopping up blood from his kitchen floor; it quite disturbed me to see a man with such internal conflict because the world bore no true empathy from his mental pain. Sole occupation flats given this extent of isolation seem to have become suicide boxes, where life rests upon death until one becomes akin to each other. It saddens me further to know he'll probably never be rehabilitated and excepted into the community.

18th

Found a banana canoe in our garden, not sure who it belongs to?

Housing support worker claimed the canoe belonged to an ex-resident.

17th

Fell off the toilet whilst urinating today.

Doctors tell me this is to do with PTSD.

But I'm not so sure.

16th

New cooker delivered and installed today.

The old cooker burned itself out.

15th

Bad BMX accident crushed by bike and badly bruised my legs, not happy today. Shocked and bewildered that some guy from the sleep rushed to the scene and enquired if I was OK, BMX is written completely off, no push-bike :)

Evidently people who have endured trauma have frequent accidents, not just those who are attempting to medicate dislogded thoughts from their mind.

14th

Shards of memories slice vision

I do this alot, because my life is in pieces.

12th

The consumed cocktail of 5MG Nitrazepam and Special brew has taken away forty-per cent of my balance, it's as though my natural gyroscope has jolted from the centrifugal axis. I am having trouble judging sideways passage i.e. distance between door frames when walking through open doorways. Keeping on my feet upright beyond a certain degree is almost impossible.

Being able to stay upright on the toilet (whilst urinating) was a near-impossible struggle. The effort resulted in banging my head against the door frame in front of me and my elbow taking a heavy knock against the bathroom sink. It took considerable effort to clean myself and the bathroom floor; finally gaining a seat spinning Wallasea fairground ride in my lounge.

Some would call this a hangover, but these effects have been happening during sobriety and seeming to have a stretched semi-permanent effect. Service workers have noticed a significant change and have been quite concerned. I flushed the remaining tablets except one, for future reference; if I have incurred any significant lasting damage from consumption of this medication.

11th

My mongoose BMX is written off, after a really nasty accident.

I sprayed this BMX bike green so I would not be so easily recognisable to the "strangers".

The accident tore at my legs, hurt alot.

8th

Coding HTML and CSS on my computer today.

6th

Cold pressurised silence, hard, cold bubble, no meaningful coincidence, objectifying an appeal to an appeasement bearer of false happiness, hard scrubbed unwashed sorrow.

Cocktail for disaster (my old Favourite)

Today I am taking copious amounts of Mogadon washed down with can after can of special brew, this world is abrasive to the soul, I beckon it's cursed ending, closers come closers.

1st

The rear of my flat, I don't have mind for materialism; being a rolling stone for so long.

But lighting masks the bareness of my sparsely furnished flat well. I don't and probably won't recieve many visitors here.

31st

I often ride my bicycle around for hours, looking for a friendly face to talk to but rarely find one, today I hung out on a railway bridge for a few hours.

“When bridges burn to ashes, There is no easy way out of the smoke, Up on a tightrope you never look down, You have to walk the line on your own.”.

This month has been the same as every other month, a living death frequented by Banana Republicans who relish in me overlooked as lifeless (黙殺), but my ancestors with me.

They have chosen not to rejuvenate, so their souls will dissolve into their chosen embodiments of a treachy that inflicts soulless dejection upon its victims, deprived of everything they were meant to be.

30th

Looking very suspect for the camera but I haven't joined any secret societies.

They wouldnt have me even if I was stupid (desperate) enough to join in the tom foolery.

26th

I am phobic of poppies, they appear to me as an omen.

After enjuring the psychological horrors of the "strangers".

25th

Look who got cashew nut ladoo today!

Really enjoy cooking, I couldn't do this whilst terrorised and displaced homeless.

22nd

My computer runs an open source..

operating system named Debian Linux.

Police were called out to a problematic neighbour.

20th

I rest calmly upon our light, forever there between a stare but never a glare.

Felt good today.

18th

Everything and yet..

nothing in my eyes.

14th

Today..

I was coding HTML5.

13th

There was one cup that got away before I went away...

because the cup wanted to return moldy.

Put this sticker in my window today, purchased in Glastonbury.

Went out for a drink with a women I'd met on a few occasions, one time when her boyfriend had been cruel to her.

Above: Discovered spiteful cut and paste Martinist fart in Truro.

12th

A friend of a friend is a horse drawn traveller, sells wood carvings he makes by side of the road, usually in Dorset; but in this instance Somerset:

Glastonbury has always been Co-freemasonic dead pan and Theosophy against me, the High Street is full of downward Cranks, including but not exclusively that cranky glory crawler Ronald Lloyd Spencer a.k.a. the self proclaimed "Buddha Maitreya".

And what could be more cranky than the ~~Goddess~~ Godless house, church hall, shop and temple, where defaced middle age women practice demonic possession and dispossesion via transconfiguration, claiming to channel the universal mother, of worth, yet worthless to everybody; what a lie.

Has Stella Moon read you're Tarrot?

Glastonbury was worthless unto me, I have never found people more godless than I realised them to be in this dreary Somerset town which I can only describe as a farcical New Age tourist trap. I have always been compeled to leave this town and considered myself unfortunate for having visited.

My friend dropped me off at Temple Meads railway station so I could catch the train to Cornwall. Do you think I looked stressed? I felt stressed on the platform.

But I was not alone :)

11th

I went for an afternoon walk in the Savernake Forest and took some pictures to share with you…

The forest was busy with people; I have been coming here for years and never seen this place so busy. An endless line of hundreds of parked cars, either side, intruded deep into the forest.

A male heathen friend once camped in this forest (during less busy times back in 1996) for two weeks almost without being seen.

I found him suffering in Swindon city centre, shortly after he had disembarked from this verdant wilderness, he was glowing with the energy of this forest, so I purchased him some breakfast in a local café.

In the north of the Savernake there are many Hawthorn trees and always enough offering of wood to fuel an overnight camp fire; from dusk to dawn I have camped here and rekindled my spirit many times.

9th

Went out for a nice meal tonight in Cheltenham..

But followed again returning to Stoud..

and again, again, a gain, they give me a reason to hate them.

4th

On the train leaving kernow..

3rd

1st

Rode under the railway arches

by Dalbuz nature reserve Truro.

September

29th

The Mongoose BMX:

My first BMX since I was 14, I had a Raleigh Burner back then!

21st

Food parcel arrived today from a friend, check out the Vegan Haggis!

Yummy nut roast also :)

17th

More and more plants growing, look at this Geranium:

I have never been able to stay in one place to nuture life, how truly amazing this experience is.

14th

What is going on here, that round cicle underneath the military helecopter, is this some sort of radar or a weapon.

13th

Today it appears I rode out to Saint Clement side of the Tresillian River

If you cycle away from Tresillain around the river you arrive at St Clement and then futher on to Malpas, known for its scenic panoramic view. Between St Clement and Malpas is gated, and the river path is difficult to ride on a bicycle.

11th

Replanted the beginnings of my lemon tree into a bigger pot.

Light of the North wind..

Some days I am beside myself, but always with the Northern wind.

9th

Today I was elevated to find my lemon tree had sprouted from the compost, see how bright it is!

How totally awesome is this!

8th

Outdoors and about on my BMX today with Rosie (my doll nutured my ancestral spirit safe because I am childless, estranged from my people, and being decimated)..