Mên-an-Tol 20th July 2021
2021
December
4th
A Sony DSLR, which is both new and used, has a very low shutter count despite being over ten years old and not full frame.

I bought a 300mm lens on eBay for just £50. I am contemplating the capture of wildlife photographs.
1st
Since this month is off to a great start, I'll share some photos I took last month with my new camera.








The mid-range DSLR camera that I bought used is more than eight years old, but it has only taken 4,000 photos. Based on what I've read, its lifespan is between 200,000 and 500,000 photos, so I suppose the camera was a bargain at £120 plus an extra £50 for a used 70-300mm zoom lens.
November
28th
I took some photographs today while riding through Boscawen Park.

I associate the Truro Cathedral with a shipwreck.

I met a reclusive man from Birkenhead who lived in Truro and worked away from home in Falmouth.
September
19th
Watch out for this guy I saw today in Truro doing a grinding trick on his BMX.
These guys were really nice, and even though I didn't have hub protectors on my BMX, they asked if I wanted to grind.
4th
I found out that Mary Phagan owned the pendant I've been wearing for years!

She was killed by Leo Frank, who was the leader of Atlanta's B'nai B'rith.
1st
Review the digital artwork that I created of Adele.


Someone I call Polyphemus, the Cyclops.
July
26th
Today, I will share the photos of Godrevy from yesterday, July 25, 2021:
For a moment, we thought we were safe because the beaches were clean, white, and safe.
1st
The day I leave the hospital following major surgery, I am relieved to be going back to Cornwall.

With NO following post-operative complications.
June
30th
I was treated unkindly by the English nurse from Yorkshire today. I was feeling anxious and wanted to leave the hospital, but the sister nurse intervened and alleviated my anxiety sufficiently to allow me to return to my bed.

In my last days at the hospital, I became friendly with Claire, a Chinese nurse, who treated me with kindness. I could see she truly loved her work as a nurse, despite her professionalism.
29th
I am relaxing in my hospital bed while listening to David Bauckham read Frank Dikotter's Mao's Great Famine.

An account of utter wickedness, in which an entire nation is engulfed in corruption, tyranny, terror, and famine. 45 million people died in just 4 years.
28th
I have heard that the Pope also stays in the ghoulish building when visiting London. The building is located adjacent to the hospital and is visible from my room window. Bone-fingered nuns prowl the premises, glaring through curtain-twitched windows.

Really eerie, I'm sure you'd agree.
27th
The menu looks great, and I've already eaten a lot. Both the Italian and Tamil ward cooks are fantastic; they both have warm smiles.

The chef occasionally glanced at me after setting the food on my bed tray and expressed sympathy for the accomplishment ahead of me. I'm not thrilled about the bruises on my left arm.

I'm getting really sick of cannulas, and now that they're off my arm, I feel better. The red band serves as a notification to nurses and physicians that I have allergies.
26th
It is an unusual sensation to undergo such a rigorous operation while aware that no one is concerned about your well-being. If anyone outside of the hospital were aware that I was present, they would likely be praying for my death.

I was instructed to take deeper breaths in order to expel stagnated gas from the anaesthetic that was concealed deep within my lungs, as my heart rate was not in sync with my lungs.
25th
Even though I called, my lift didn't show up until 4:10am because the driver had gone back to sleep accidentally. I woke up at 3:00am. When the van broke down on the A30 close to Bodmin Moor, the engine wouldn't start for ten long minutes after one of the wipers on the windscreen failed. The van misfired for fifty more miles, but after we landed on the A303 shortly after Exeter, it appeared to be operating normally. Along the road, I was able to capture a photograph of Stonehenge.

At 9:30 a.m., I arrived at a private hospital in Wimbledon. When I was directed to the side of the building, a man in a suit and mask approached the door. He inquired about COVID-19 before opening the door and escorting me to a seated area. I filled out a form and waited. After five minutes, I was taken to the hospital ward and shown to my room. It felt like a room in a normal Hilton hotel, but it was medical.

I wasn't sure if I would be admitted because I hadn't got the results of the COVID-19 PCR test I took three days ago. I waited an hour and a half for the nurse to return and inform me that the results of the lateral flow test were negative after she performed a swab on my mouth and nose. I undressed, changed into a gown, and discreetly got ready for surgery. Furthermore, I was called to the operating room about an hour early, and I carried a pillow with me. My anaesthesiologist promptly administered a cannula to my left arm, and I was promptly prepared for surgery. Before instructing me to count down from ten, he attached a large syringe filled with white liquid. I was out after three counts. I felt very high after the four and a half-hour procedure, and I spoke a lot of gibberish both before and while being wheeled back to the ward. I experienced no discomfort and drifted in and out of sleep for approximately two hours. A morphine pump was administered, and it began emitting unusual sounds.
They were Italian, Spanish, Chinese, and African, and they were all kind, helpful, and attentive. Upon my arrival, the consultant surgeon informed me that my operation was successful and that there were no complications. After a sigh of relief, I went back to sleep peacefully. It had been a long, hard day.
23rd
I have been thinking about a few things. First, I want to make the panopticon backwards so that instead of making everyone feel like they are always being watched by one person, the victim is made to feel like they are always being watched by everyone. My theory is that there is a containment, group coercion, reinforcing captive mentality, simulating reoccurrences, an invisible street theatre of tricks to trick the mind into an assertion projection to trick consensus. It might be encircled by Rotundra, which means that everyone is rotating to confuse and incapacitate definition, thereby blurring every indifferent rationality. Similar to an animation flip-book, it could also be used to program the victim as the subconscious battles for recognition, focusing on parts that are executing sequences of a single script. Each page or segment would use important aspects of the conscious mind against the subconscious mind.

As a tortured victim of this mind control, I have become more conscious (due to hyperarousal) of the manipulations that take place in the streets. Initially, I considered these projections to be games, a sort of objectification panopticon in which the rules are known to everyone but unclear to the individual.y. A group of individuals is subjected to cultural enrichment, which intensifies the contrast between them. The individual's objectives are traumatized and anchored to symbols to control their focus and move away from the confinement of the group. Foraying moments that define the individual, keep them focused on the swinging pendulum of everyone else. The inferior everybody could theoretically take the place of the person and be surrounded by a more dominant and larger everybody, but ultimately, interchanging segments of everybody is key to manipulating the victim. For example, what I'm talking about here is a Necronomicon, which is a book that brings the dead back to life and makes them only react in ways that were planned ahead of time.
We must listen to and observe the superimposed imposition of our psyche in order to defeat the INGSOC 1984 socialist paradigm. This type of societal conditioning places a strong emphasis on selflessness and most likely takes inspiration from the Buddhist concept of Dharma. The narrative that sustains the motion of this cause-and-effect continuum, morphing and redefining self, is also a critical factor, as it threads passing responses together. To understand how alienation works in the dialectical Marxist lexicon, one must understand that if one loses their sense of self, they will never have a purpose that makes them happy, and their sense of worth will only depend on how the people who run the government distribute it. When observing the processes of conditioning captivation in redefining reanimate compartmentalization, I consider this a defining factor of this everybody groups conformity, as it involves doing anything to avoid being thrown into a pit of emptiness.
20th
I endeavoured to avoid focusing on the pain and allowing inhibition and anxiety to impede my projection today, despite feeling unwell. Together with my friend Koala and his two sons, we loaded our bicycles into his van and travelled to Mên-an-Tol.


Upon our arrival, there were no other people at the site, so we had at least ten minutes to connect with the stones before anyone else showed up.

I endured a state of malaise for two-thirds of the day; however, I began to sense my body regaining the necessary energy in the final third of the day. After my friend Karen told me a story about the area, I arrived at Cape Cornwall at sunset.

Their ancestral praxis was pushed off the edge of this cliff, and I truly knew the fate of my people who dared to live.
19th
I have been feeling extremely unwell today. I awoke this morning and vomited blood. I was transported to the hospital by ambulance. If the bleeding persists, I will be required to return, and they will contact me to conduct an upper gastrointestinal endoscopy to determine the cause of my ailments. I am currently indulging in a much-needed nap, as the previous evening was eventful.

The hospital took good care of me and was very professional. The hospital staff was still respectful to me, even though I was very anxious and did not want to remain for an extended period. I repeatedly requested to leave and refused to undergo an x-ray and a COVID-19 swab. Upper gastrointestinal haemorrhage. My ALT level was elevated at 135.

In the morning, I had a lot of blood coming up from my stomach. I had a nice but long walk home from the hospital, and I fell asleep right away, feeling as if my life had been torn from me. I am convinced that I was served an unsavoury beverage in the central bar last night while socializing with the Peter Popoff doppelgänger.
They seemed shocked when I told them I didn't have any family or friends nearby.
16th
It was amazing to discover a pink and white foxglove in my garden this morning. :)

The flat is on the first floor, right above this flower.
15th
This rose was remarkable.

So took a picture.
10th
After days of struggle between Ubuntu Touch and Sailfish, I was able to reinstall VollaOS after much tinkering with UBports. This was the day that I resolved my Vollaphone issue.
7th
If you have read Aprils blog entries, you'll know about the satanist who comes to our flat block to prey on vulnerable female resident; today, a neighbour told him what he was.
Since I posted about him, he is now using a dark blue Smart car (with same 666 registration plate of V666 TJH) to pick up and abuse vulnerable women. The car has a red and black interior with 666 stickers on the glove box door.
May
27th
Today I was given a lovely rose from a friend's garden, the smell is so perfume.

But I am cautious so as not to let it near my forehead!
19th
Went out for a ride on my bike today. Took a couple of pictures whilst riding out of Malpas, the estuary smelled awful, I have no desire or plan whatsoever to remain in Cornwall and seek accommodation elsewhere.


The journey was tiring, my BMX rear wheel is broken, the rim is so badly damaged that it looses shape as the spokes become noisier when the wheel turns. I was quoted £220, to replace the wheel, which I cannot afford.
16th
Today a white camper van attempted to soil me with black smoke as it screamed up a hill heading out of Truro. I got drunk with a neighbour, only had two small bottles of Westons cider and got tipsy, but it was enough to give me a massive headache a short while later. My neighbour attempted to give me presents for my flat, but I don't like any things that she gave me, also it feels like an intrusion.
14th
Today I found an anxious neighbour who had not eaten any food for four days, I calmed her nerves down and asked her to come for a walk in the countryside. I explained to her the anxiety she was suffering was both suppressing her appetite and immobilising her, so a walk away from the thousands of anchors within these triggered streets would do her some good.

She calmed down after ten minutes, we walked through a copse and then up to a viewpoint where I go myself when I wish to diminish my stress. Initially, the location was quiet, we relaxed and talked until surrounded by people, as grey skies loomed overhead I walked with her back to our neighbourhood. I place humanity above faceless religion, those who cast marginalisations take advantage and exploit that.
13th
Today I learned to blow out candles on your birthday is a bad thing to do; when I was in India they did not celebrate birthdays, I am now wondering why we, as people of European origin have always lived in a world of ritualised desecration, who has despised us all these years, is it that hard to see?
7th
Viv la.

France!
6th
Today I been helping my friend

With his house and garden.
April
30th
Earlier today, I rode my BMX to the park and captured some photographs.

When I gaze at my aging visage in the mirror, I inquire of the reflection, "Who drained your life away?"
28th
This is the 20th pot from the spider plant in my hallway. How cool is that?

Traveling on a lonely, empty road for years, I never managed to grow plants, but now we are, how awesome is that?
25th
Tired but not out.

Yet!
23rd
I ventured outside to get away from the computer for a few hours and then to walk in a copse today; visited Bosvigo Gardens for five minutes and took this picture:

Have terrible headache and eye tension, so I guess it's another stress migraine.
20th
Today my friend (Koala) drove me to Roundwood, I took this picture of a ferry named “European Seaway” that had moored there.


After I took the picture with my mobile phone, I pondered over a motion whether this ferry could take me far away from this hell.
18th
Is this not just one of the most awesome things.

I now have two pepper plants growing from seed, observed just over a fortnight for it to germinate and grow to this size, photo taken today?
15th
Today and during the last two days I've felt a lot of pain which is probably evident in my face in the photograph below; each day my heart seems to become weaker. I can literally feel myself fading away.


My friend (Koala) rang me early in the morning, asking if I would like to go out for a drive today, I accepted because I need to get out of my flat more. He talks about many things with me but refuses to talk about Martinism, but appears to know what this is and what has been going by. Being raised by Domincan sisters at a orphanage / convent in Zimbabwe must have been really tough for him; I guess we all know where subordinated loyalities lie.

I've known my friend for almost 22 years, I first met him walking down Cowley Road, East Oxford, and I have never known him to not help people. Time has taken its tortuous toll on us both, I can see my poor mental health also in him. I was glad to get out of Truro and being in a car is different to riding a bike, I get to focus on more.




That's it for this day's photographs, I parted company with my friend during the afternoon, shortly after he cooked me a fry up vegan breakfast. I am thinking about going out on my bike more often for longer rides, so watch this blog for more pictures.
13th
Tonight's sunset was the lowest yet, slipping dull darkness.

Shadowing upon the light of my rising soul.
12th
Today I had tea at the colour's café in Truro; very Mediterranean feel about the patio.

I was seated outside due to silly Covid-19 restrictions still being in place.

My spider plan.
10th
BMX ride about Ideless woods today.




Discovered this obsentity spray painted onto trees about where I ride my BMX.




But I enjoyed my ride through Ideless woods anyhow.
8th
Frustration.

Shards of shattered cognition.
6th
Later I learned the white male had been sold crack cocaine by a security guard who had been dealing for weeks on the caravan park. The motivation behind the madness was crack psychosis, which could have seriously injured if not killed other residents in the park. The security companies contract was withdrawn by an infuriated council, and more probably by an unconstructive response by Elite Security. Elite Security began as a splinter company from Frontline Security, who then became the successor of the contract. As far as I am aware, there were no further problems other than unruly residents, infamous for numerous accounts of shoplifting and one incident of GBH; beating up a shopkeeper after he demands stolen items were returned to his shop. Overall my own experience of this caravan park was positive, I gained a good report with services and so was rehoused adequately thereafter.

More recently, this year, just a few days ago I witnessed a new resident moving in to the housing project where I currently reside. She arrived dressed only in “red and black” coloured clothes from an old Mercedes coupe, which displayed a number plate of 666. Hands and arms loaded with presents, including a plant she passed by and made acquaintance. Two days after, she was dropped off again in tears, claiming that the man in the car had taken her to his home and requested that she masturbate herself in view of four males who were also present. The car circled and stopped outside of reception, I saw the driver and instantly recognised him from monkey tree caravan park. Through the night, she requested help with taking a razor to bits to cut herself, to dissociate from the horror she had been inflicted with that evening.
5th
One picture from today, the others were blurred, all of them but one!

Huge amounts of these flowers are commercially grown in Cornwall, were at this time I live.
3rd
Two portraits were drawn of me by housing support workers.


In one of them I look really old, the other malformed.
2nd
Whilst residing in Truro I've been growing lemon trees from seed, nurturing is something travelling prepetuality painfully obscured so I have embrace nurturing of nature yet again. First picture below is of my lemon tree when it first appeared to the light from darkness of a pot of organic soil, this happened about two to three weeks after sowing. The second picture is of the same tree three months later, most noticable change was the way the leaves developed and unfolded and the most prominent effect is the trees staunchness, distinguisahable from plants.


I read it takes about four years for these self-pollinating trees to bear fruit, I am eager for the process to instil a sense of patience into my unique longevity. Growing life is an awesome experience, I wholely recommend anybody interested in spirituality begin this truly awesome process of observance.
1st
Today I feel as though I have lived again, after years of being kicked around the UK, proving fourteen-mile long dissociated marches into nowhere. Today was the first time in ELEVEN YEARS I had a social invitation to go to a place with a group of people who genuinely considered me to be their friend.


We met at a skate park and I rode around on my BMX for four or five minutes before requesting some pictures be taken for this month's blog. My awareness is still on high alert (hypervigilance), even after being settled in a flat for more than a year; being at or even amongst a social event can be very daunting, but I was not going to miss an opportunity to live.
February
12th
Early this morning, twenty or so unwanted rainbow "prayer" leaflets from a Baptist church were spread out across the floor of my flat, nowhere else in the neighbourhood to be found. On Monday, the church will receive a cease and desist notice.


Brings back disturbed memories when I was ritually abused every Sunday by bread breaking "strangers" in 2013 whilst I occupied a ground floor flat in my birth town of Loughborough, Leicestershire. Systematic abuses were so disturbing that I left the entire county to go live in Nottingham.
4th
It took rough victimisation to learn dehumanization as:
- Dehumanisation is casting in disfiguring disparities, to cripple people's nurtured prosperity of ancestral hereafter; a manifestation of infliction birthed not from deluded desperation but from envious, spite driven malice.
- Dehumanisation is being cast out, as a demon from your own inherent ancestral worth.
- Dehumanisation is being voided from recognition, having your worth withheld and presented, to another somewhere else.
- Dehumanisation is having your heart emptied and then filled with depraved hatred; propagating false claims of consent from incapcitated victims, who's projections have dissociated complacent.
- Dehumanisation is to be typecast as systematic human failure; misdirecting life into wagered, unknown games whose rules have never been shown, acknowledged or explained.
- Dehumanisation is claiming you don't care when you have been voided from caring until you cannot comprehend what care actually is.
- Dehumanisation is being alone, lost, confused, cold, hungry and then endlessly inflicted with false charity; slapped down by an outreaching hand until you become inconsolable.
- Dehumanisation is finding yourself buried in a dark pit of loneliness, with only post-traumatic nightmares to haunt and disturb you.
- Dehumanisation is people desecrating you by delivering associations of malice inflicted upon besieged and terrorised people.
- Dehumanisation is being estranged and defaced, obscured from the inherent love of your people, within the sanctity of your own homeland.
- Dehumanisation is claiming victory over a people, as body snatched possessions, a people that have been desecrated into self loathing for almost two thousand years.
- Dehumanisation is endlessly being obscured from god given opportunity, distracted, traumatised into invisible walls of incomprehensible generalised anxiety.
- Dehumanisation is having your cognition shattered and turned in on you, lacerating your heart with shards of smashed, broken dreams.
- Dehumanisation is being expected to follow and abide by laws in view of others who, with enactment presided by impunity, break those very laws.
- Dehumanisation is being ignored as a ghost, for years, whilst you are screaming.
- Dehumanisation is worth being buried alive as worthless, smothered in pathological lies, subverting and brainwashing others into sustaining an enduring, alienating altercation.
- Dehumanisation is famishing through devouring another life, depriving an alienated consciousness of an inherent recognisable existence.
- Dehumanisation is an undignified pursuit of merciless totalitarianism, through voiding every empathy known to the existence of humanity.
- Dehumanisation is being desecrated and hated out of existence by your own flesh and blood, being desensitised and driven away from your place of birth.
- Dehumanisation is egalitarian crazed miscreants gaining sadistic gratifications from systematically castigating you out as human waste.
- Dehumanisation is mutilating heartfelt victims into heartless perpetrators to sustain sadistic Machiavellian gratifications within a dark triad of Christian Socialism.
If your heart is burning with rage, consider what I've written. That's just a small portion of it.
3rd
Riding my BMX up to twenty miles over Kernow's rolling hills makes me feel better. I frequently compare riding my BMX to flying as I soar through freezing rain, the icy chill of the ongoing Atlantic downpour lifting towards milder days of pure golden sunshine reflected as night by pale moonlight.




I continued to ride for a considerable distance after leaving the woodland, and as the coldness and hunger intensified, I determined the direction to return to my lodgings for the evening. I spent an hour cleaning my BMX, clothes, and body of the accumulated mud.
January
31st
Lemon trees are still growing even though it's dark outside and freezing rain is falling. It's a damp Kernow winter. I started these two trees from organic seeds. They are growing slowly because I don't want to use artificial lighting, but they should bear fruit in two years!ⁿ

I gave away two other extra lemon trees I had grown to friends, and they are not only doing great but are also growing much more quickly than mine!
24th
Yesterday, I embarked on a twenty-mile BMX ride that lasted twelve hours. While this may not appear to be a significant distance to some readers, I would argue that the journey was substantial, partly due to the rough terrain and the absence of gears. If I feel so close to my home country and amazed by nature, but why do these trips feel like they're wearing away at my life, leaving me feeling suffocated and empty when I get back? If my soul is ripped apart and disfigured.




A portion of the route was familiar from my April 2020 walk from Falmouth to Truro, where I was just before Cornwall Council provided emergency shelter at Monkey Tree Caravan Park in Goonhaven, close to Newquay, following months of surviving on the streets during the first coronavirus outbreak (COVID-19).




The wind chill of the air rushing past my body roused to freeze me as the sun lowered, numbing my observations which seem to be voiding, infrequently, into nothing. However, I suppose this is a function of dissociation, and not just because my brain is slowing down due to the cold.
16th
Today I rode eight miles on my BMX


through very muddy woodland.
15th
Another accident has appeared.

I've read that this is a typical side effect of complex PTSD, but I don't know when or how. When nobody cares? Who is nobody?
7th
The right kind of exercise is critical, so I ride my BMX at least every other day.



To promote both physical and mental well-being.