JULY 2017
09/07/2017


 

This is how July begins...

 

 

Yet this first week of ‘Jolly July’ has been only ‘Eat, Sleep, Work, Repeat...’ Actually, the three weeks I’ve been back in the vipers nest of British inequality have all been the same. Here, pulling myself back on truck; this is anything but jolly. Another week of applying myself to the practical application of getting ‘some’ job done?? The sense is tired, yet my mind remains untethered; in Ninja mode fighting for it…

 

Albeit, I feel like a scurrying rat…

 

...darting from safe house to safe house. I’m living in the Lucky Fucker, running around in a circle with five stop off points, the swimming pool being one, staying where ever, or on which ever sofa. Yet its like going round and round the same racetrack chasing my tail. So desperate to get out of this British Isle, I can’t stop for no one, nor nothing – in my head, I’m leaving again at the end of July. That’s three weeks away; three weeks to learn Adobe Premier and become a viral vlogger???

 

I don’t think so…

 

Yet this is what I’m thinking, bored of being quiet, I want to start ‘Shouting...’ Its taken me years, to learn what I’ve had to learn, now well, I’ve got something to shout about. Really. Here standing in the hazy mire that is ‘the development of a pretty punk idea.’ Aware that in this moment I’ve a You Tube Page (at her desk whatever) which presently has three subscribers, two of which are me. A Feckbook Page with 80 something followers, a Twitter whatever with two hundred, and a Instagram account, that I never use and can't remember the password for??? A dreamer, the deluded and derranged; me a vlogger, a film maker?? Yet this is my evolving concentration, while the last few weeks have been focussed on the re-birth of ‘atherdesk.com’ now, I’m challenging myself to evolve the music and film sections?? This next week, well, I’m going to practice ‘Shouting...’

 

Raising my head above the parapet? Its a dichotomy, its the last thing I want to do, and yet I also recognise that I’m being challenged to come out of ‘the comfort zone.’ The comfort zone of doing nothing and not even caring, to doing something and really caring.

 

If not now, then when?

 

I am as I am; ambitious, the dream a global re-evolution that once more embraces our civilization's greater spiritual chic.  Alas back in the Ugly Kingdom, feeling seriously demented by the stark dark-side of reality on every street.  Asking where is the door to healing and happiness?? Wondering when We The People will reclaim our lands and decide on Joy???  I’m struggling, I'm really struggling. Joy??? I know only that when I leave my mind to do its own thing, I’m back in the sun, with the sand between my toes on an empty beach, a very long way away from my own Home country.

 

Yet I can’t leave in this moment, because whilst anyone can write a book if their willing to sit doggedly about it. In an environment in which few people read any longer, whats the point?  Again we should question my sanity? However this is the reality of creativity in the 21st Century; the writers of today ‘pretty null and void’ unless our idle words are wrapped up with some multi-media extravaganza. Thus, the question is not so much about finishing my unfinished script on some isolated beach, but more about how I intend to market it?? I get this, and just maybe this is why I write about it now?

 

‘A woman with a plan?’

 

‘Yes actually...Eat, Sleep, Work, Repeat….’

 

 

THE LITTLE LATER

 

While this desire not to be here wasting Summer 2017 in the Ugly Kingdom is unbending. The list of things to achieve before I can leave these shores remains hopelessly incomplete. Yet I feel like a rat chasing its tail in a sewer, my sad ‘what 2 do with Britain angst’ the weighty burden making every other burden feel ten times heavier. I’m good, I’m strong, I’m punk; yet seemingly I’m not so immune to being deeply affected to the collective downturn of the British people.

 

Honestly, its like the feckin’ Quickening round here; how much faster can we bring on our own absolute destruction??? Is the ever growing divide between rich and poor now without any common ground?? All of us in this together, and all that??? Still reality is there aren’t so many middle classes any longer; its like poverty itself is forging into new uncharted levels of ‘desperate.’ The weathered look of financial entrapment on everyone’s faces…

 

This our great Western ‘capitalistic’ Civilization; now mentally, physically and spiritually broke. What 2 do? Yet somehow here in Britain, with our white pallor and tan-less blubber; this look appears amplified to me. Like ‘struggling’ is now a fucking rash across the whole country and no one’s got the cure for it? Alas a population that is broke is one thing, but a country that’s been completely MK Ultra’ed into this breakdown is a whole different consideration.

 

“Break-up, not down” she screams…

 

Alas the de-programming of the programmed mass mind is going to take time. Do we begin at A??? No, lets begin with P for Poverty and the killing off of the population. This is the bit I find scary…

 

Poverty kills; the mental strain of long term poverty, the helplessness, the vulnerable insecurities and stark reality of no way out. The stress; poverty weathers faster than feckin’ geo-enginneering. Alas as the clock ticks on ‘increasingly desperate’ I fear Mad Max is probably just a romantic comedy amidst the poverty apocalypse that’s really coming.

 

The sound of something Psi-Dub playing in my truck...

 

Still a single month back in this country, and whilst I recognise my over-riding British angst lingers with ‘the queen that cares not for her people.’ Yet add in the insipid manifestation of British Summer; this idea that seventeen degrees, cloudy, rich in killer chemtrails, but not raining is ‘not a bad day for July’ and here I am weeping ever louder and craving fucking doughnuts.

 

Comfort food in a world of little comfort?? Salad dodging for weeks, surviving on junk food for ease and instant gratification, a diet of convenience coupled with what is an obvious slow death wish?

 

Honestly, a single month of living on a diet of sandwiches, croissants and cheese and onion pies and biscuits and banana’s to fill the gap. And where I might have arrived back here in a state of almost lithe Thoroughbred, now when I look in the mirror I see only a fat Highland Pony. It is as it is the inconvenience of chomping down on convenience food is the bodies reaction to it. Bloated by wheat and yeast, whilst ‘all that sugars’ is now rolling towards my hips. Ffs where is my head??

 

Equilibrium absolutely eluding...

 

Yet for a normal salad chomping vegetarian, who drinks Hemp milk. I’ve really noticed how this recent spat of salad dodging has now entrapped me ‘somewhat hopelessly’ in our contemporary Food Industries metabolic loop. A constant state of craving. Looping about; its hopeless, you buy their food because your fucking hungry, duly stuffing your face with something fast and convenient, only to be hungry again half-an-hour later???

 

How is this?

 

Sadly beyond the poisonous additives, artificial flavourings, bleaching, deodorizing, collagen and enzymes, artificial sweeteners, colourings, soluble fibres, sugars, all the E numbers, and salt that is the modern food industry norm? Our natural born bodies being fed unnatural chemical’s? Our food now so short of natural nutrients, it’s leaving our human bodies in a constant state of lack. A constant state of hunger and perpetual craving. Which as we buy more food obviously benefits the Food Industry, yet look at the fucking state of us??

 

We’ve mutated.

 

Sat in my truck, drinking my free cup of coffee from ‘WeightRose’ parked up in Abergavenny high street on Tuesday’s market day. Listening to a some Dub selection watching our meandering British population go about their day.

 

Ff Jesus Christ, 'the heavy base line' is the fact that the greater mass has evolved as ‘a land whale carrying a stick.’

 

Oh oooooops, I’m not allowed to say that am I? Its not PC; how dare I be so outspoken?

 

Sorry, but actually, perhaps someone needs to shout some greater perspective on this? And this vast shuffling reality upsets me more than any other; now nearly fifty, this has happened in my life time. I’ve born witness to the change, a living observer of the slow mutant deforming of a civilization. Certainly it is beyond anything ever previously imagined; probably three to four times bigger than anything I could have considered possible…

 

 

 

The Fatty-puffs are everywhere, the Thinifers a dying breed. A whole population being slowly deformed by the very product that’s meant to sustain us with health and vitality. We blame poverty, a shit education system, but seemingly fat recognises no class divide.

 

No this is a ruthlessly corrupt Agricultural and Food Industry and wow, look how the global de-population agenda is working…

 

Like blowing and blowing a balloon until its stretched to burst. Removed from our lands, urbanized; the last hundred years has seen The People go from eating everything organic. To being absolutely dependent on a chemically drenched genetically modified Agricultural Industry and a Food Industry that’s literally flavouring our food with fucking ‘Round-Up’.

 

The slow painful death of millions lo-loping towards us. Yet we can’t talk about fat people? Or is it that we can’t talk about fat people, because that would be pointing the finger at the now greater percentage of the population??? It is as it is more than two-thirds (68.8 percent) of adults are considered to be overweight or obese. More than one-third (35.7 percent) of adults are considered to be obese. More than 1 in 20 (6.3 percent) have extreme obesity. Almost 3 in 4 men (74 percent) are considered to be overweight or obese.

 

That’s one massive fucking problem. Oh dear where’s the National Health Service??? Oh no their breaking under the weight?

 

 

 

Yet to consider how to get a blubbery Britain back into shape, or at the very least saving future generations from following in this same heavy pursuit. Really the greater issue is that we’ve lost our lands, and now no longer able to remember how to survive off them by growing our own food. Here, in this place, wholly manipulated into becoming a hundred percent reliant on a corrupt moral-less Food Industry and chemically Monsanto drenched Agricultural Industry for our survival. And well...

 

There are Salad Dodger’s everywhere. And I in my shocking, in your face, tourettes non-PC way have by way of exampling just how big this tragedy now is. Have duly taken to photographing waistlines; a study of 101 Salad Dodger’s and the long term affects of entrusting corporate ‘Food Economics’ to look after us…

 

Its that weird thing about being behind a zoom lens, like photographing surfer’s back in June. Back then, bobbing up and down waiting for the wave, the lingering essence was ‘the call and power of the sea.’ An hour spent in Abergavenny on market day, left me in a state of post traumatic stress, feeling fucking wobbly.

 

Like a war photographer. Detailing ‘the War on the People’ when existing in this 21st Century global war zone, that is the ‘War on our Consciousness’ and the vast De-Population Agenda gripping this our Alien ruled planet…

 

Alas, carrying the weight of it all, is just another very uncomfortable reality of the trauma.

 

Fucking hell…

 

 

 

THE LITTLE LATER

 

...christ its been everything but a Jolly July. I reckon in the future when I think back on this period of time, it will be languishing somewhere in my memory in sepia, or taupe or maybe some shady grey, high lighting the dull and uninspiring tedium of it all. Creativity the only refuge in an otherwise laughter less reality.

 

Eat, sleep, work, repeat, eat, sleep, work, repeat….

 

...this the boring diary? The highlight to my week, twenty-eight new followers on Twitter??? Ffs seemingly my social-media ineptness is like a parallelized piss-in-the-wind. My struggle with this faceless self-promoting-social-way, is that every time I post something, I feel like a whore advertising some farce of a tighter twat for more followers. The crazy idea that someone might read my words or visit my website, an illusion, detailed by my Analytics as ‘Your having a laugh.’

 

 

 

Yet then again, why would anyone wish to read my words ‘the literary pallor all taupe’ even with the light shinning through it?? Yet frack me my Twitter feed is worse than my own ranting monologue; obviously I'm attracting similar taupe types, but Jesus, dig my heart out, very slowly with a delicate coffee spoon, why not?? The scroll of chronic human-condition, infliction, desperation and destruction, forever served with its endless global political wah wah, propaganda and absolute bullshit. Albeit colourfully and lightly interjected on my page, by the number of graffiti artist’s I follow, but well, the word on my street, the writing on my wall is like observing The Quickening of ever greater decline…

 

Existing in the thick of it, sensitive to the edginess; my fear is it is going to blow…

 

Yet really the ‘blow’ has already long started; the world is imploding, nothing is working, there is no equality, nothing is fair and sickness is everywhere. Yet still we allow this whole corrupt Western System to cling on, and drive us ever closer to absolute destruction??

 

We’re all insane, and meanwhile I suffer from this constant mental tic, that has me dreaming of standing momentarily like Gulliver over every Tom, Dick and Gary in all of living existence, screaming...

 

“STOP! STOP! Enslaved Trans-Human-Nano-Beings, we are not. Nature’s our god...”

 

Yet nobody is listening, instead everyone’s still mutating and tweeting about Trumps latest tweet (which he somewhat remarkably does 8-10 times a day). Consumed by the deflection, and the endless scroll of issues that have little to nothing to do with the real truth on this ‘Love-fucking-Island.’ And well, “People the future is looming….” and from where I’m standing, reality is time might be better spent; finding your crew, a water source, and a safe house to grow vegetables, whilst swiftly learning how to be self-sufficient and survive off grid...

 

...because otherwise its a microchip.

 

Seriously, what’s creeping in aint pretty. Our Festival Season long over. Already only the fittest are surviving, ‘we the people’ dying like flies; this is the cull. And still the greater population appears not to understand or acknowledge how serious this shit is?? In my head ‘for our civilization to survive’ this Trumpton of Bilderberg’s G20 and all this United- Alien-Nation-royal-NWO-IMF bullshit, has to be swiftly torn down brick by fucking brick, microwave transmitter by microwave transmitter, chemical poison by chemical poison, weapon of mass-destruction by weapon of mass destruction.

 

We have to stop feeding and endorsing the beast; alas if we keep paying taxes, I fear we’re all dead.

 

Honestly, I don’t think I’m over-reacting; sensitive to being ‘Rounded-Up and Wi-Fried’ and now there is nowhere free of it. According to globalresearch.org Monsantos ‘Round-Up’ is in seventy-five percent of all air and rain samples in the USA??? As I said “Its gonna blow...”

 

 

 

In case of concern, the symptoms for ingesting Glyphosate are; 'reduced urination, cough, diarrhea, drowsiness, swallowing difficulty, breathing difficulty, nausea, vomiting, Esphageal inflammation, blood in vomit, stomach inflammation, blood in urine, reduced blood pressure, increased blood potassium level, Leukocytosis, Metabolic acidosis, Nystagmus, mouth ulcers, goosebumps, salivation, destruction of red-blood cells, respiratory failure and kidney damage…'

To name but a few presently breaking the NHS! Ffs add in the electro-magnetic manipulation and here, we all are, phone in hand ‘Twittering on’ thinking we’re being really SMART with technology and a few new followers, when really we’re being 4 or 5G’d to feck and too fried to fight???

It is as it is, the bees are dying, everyone and everything is following suit; the clock is ticking…

The aliens are winning, their invasion almost complete. And still most of the population is too consumed with Trump’s latest tweet, to even notice we’ve even been invaded...

Anyway if by some remarkable chance, you’ve fallen for my ‘tighter Twitter twat’ and followed the link to be reading this. To be alive now, at this point in our civilizations future, I believe should be considered as pretty bloody exciting and fucking hard-core. The future is in our hands; certainly no amount of criticising governments and politicians is going to ‘Save our souls.’

This we’ve got to swiftly do for ourselves…

So fuck all this shady taupe; weave a rainbow, grab the light...