October 2022

31st

Trying to get up and out of my tent from apathy can be such a haul in the morning but rise me all must project through another day.

Cars roused me as fine rain blew against my tent, and the cold touch of air upon my face brings about a shift to hand and foot.

Breakfast. Hitched a lift into Selkirk from a surveyor on his way to work, the warm air from the vans vented heating put my nerves at ease.

Messages in a Selkirk shop windows?

Caught the bus into Galashiels and picked up my reading glasses . Feels great to read again clearly, edges now appear on letters.

Visited some friends then obtained a phone call from the borders council stating they have given me a local connection to the area. I am drinking a lot of alcohol to slow down my racing mind, need to research a healthy alternative; also booked myself in with a chiropractor, the film Jacobs ladder springs to mind, am most likely as disturbed as him. Had three pints of Tenants which has slowed down my mind sufficiently, going to have to continue my journey if I am not going to be spending money on public.

I'm very tired so have now cancelled my trip to Bannockburn. I am shattered but will make effort to celebrate Samhain here in the borders, my grandmother was from here. So I hitchiked to Peebles, and drank at a pub named the Green house. Feeling very tired and bothered so going to call an early night.

30th

Woke up by Robert deBruis castle, and slept a disturbed night, with one eye open, I guess how he slept.

Only back in his day, people were not excommunicating with double standards, whilst subordinated spineless unto deafening silence.

I took breakfast at the Robert the Bruce Wetherspoons pub. The impersonal drinks robot was new-fangled but I glared through despondence as it cleaned itself.

Wetherspoons had a flow of Suedeheads, one had a “rude bitch” handbag, and a “Hell O Martin” was also accentuated.

Publicans seem annoyed with waiting an extra hour for an alcoholic drink since the clocks were put back an hour at midnight. I left before midday, purchased a wrist watch then entered the packed Dickies bar for a refreshing pint of Tennants. . Got on the train to Carlisle then got a taxi to Longtown, hitched a lift from a guy in a van to Hawick, walked north but did not receive anither lift so pitched my tent in a nearby field.

29th

Slept on the grounds of the Haining in Selkirk last night, arrived at 2am, woke at 8am, six hours sleep.

My grandmother was born in Selkirk, then moved to England. I have visited the Haining before and took pictures.. but here are some recent snaps.

I didn’t walk around the small loch.

I hitched a lift north of the town to Hawick from an army veteran, then a succession of lifts via A7 to Jedburgh, Newcastle and Scots Corner A1/A66 services. Rolling mist covered the A66.

The final lift came from an outdoor adventurer on his way to visit his mother in Glasgow, he dropped me in Dumfries at around 6pm.

I spent the evening in a pub named the Globe and was served by a stout barman named Blair. The clientele talked to me, opened a box of halloween facy dress clothes (I used to love dressing up before I was damaged) one even bought me a drink before I departed at 10:30 pm to find a place to sleep.

28th

Very unwell this morning, with debilitating symptoms of pernicious anaemia, after eating breakfast my eyeballs were rolling with tiredness (postprandial hypotension) and woke with a feeling as though I sinking into the floor. It’s slightly worrying because I am not supposed to be due for another B12 injection until December 2022. Maybe this is something to do with PTSD rather than an underlying blood disorder.

Tinnitus in my ears is deafening and has taken on additional tones recently. How is it that every time I attempt to settle in an area, at least for a while my mental and physical state of health plummets? I would make more of an effort to pick myself up but I am waiting to hear if I am going to be relocated later today. Outside is a sunny morning/afternoon, and the fair autumnal weather is luring me to out for a walk around Gala hill; I know if I push myself enough, hyperarousal will release enough adrenalin to get me up there. So I dragged myself out of bed and stomped about the hillside taking pictures.

The construct of darkness, an exposure that manifests greivance of despairity to eternally destroy us.

27th

So many messages running through my mind (auditory hallucinations) this morning. Twisted neighbour above was also going berzerk around midnight, screaming and yelling abuses. I have had these mind messages since being inflicted with horrific trauma whilst displaced on the streets of London in 2010-2013. I am planning to travel today, not sure where I am going yet, but expect to be going some distance and additionally camping out. I am trying hard not to respond to the messages, they used to provoke me into walking aimlessly for hours and hours years ago. Woke up with somebody creeping around outside of my flat attempting to look through the curtains. They were wearing wellies sound of their footsteps, not very tall but shifted some. weight as they walked up and down the hard paving stone outside. I have a heavy hissing metallic sound in my ears, sometimes the sound swishes and in silence, the hiss becomes louder as if going from one ear to the other. I have known this intrusive pain to be referred to as Tinnitus although I have never been professionally diagnosed. My eyes are watery and feel loose as if I have been crying in my sleep but I have no recollection of this, I was in deep sleep past 2 am. Spent the latter part of the morning and early afternoon creating pages on this here is my blog. I visited the recharge cafe and ate well, feeling tired so guess I won’t be travelling today. There is a horrid smell of death somewhere in the crash pad flat, have to find it because the council is relocating me soon.

26th

Around midday I took a walk into town, exercise raises serotonin and so alleviates depression, but I struggle when walking the streets with trauma triggers jolting my perceptive cognition around. The people of the borders are kind and endearing, but it is easy to lay positive perceptions when abuses shout so loud from negeative projections from destructive people, that seek to marginalise every sense of humanity. I visited the usual places then took myself for a walk.. taking pictures along the way.

What happened to these people, to put up such an afront to their residence.

Tonight I went out for another walk, to burn off some anxiety, and lift my depression. Tried some night photography. Leaving the woodland the rain poured down, first there was sleet then sopping rain. Undeterred I sat and rocked on a swing for five minutes. Promised me to keep away from bars; and unruly characters who only vent virtue signals as if they were worthy, within their blinkered judgements, of bone-picking scrutiny.

25th

Woken at 3 am this morning, hungover from last night. Feeling quite low and disturbed this morning, it’s now afternoon and the crash pad flat curtains are still drawn. Today I dyed the grey trauma from my curly hair, I have thin hair which will not grow beyond length of my shoulders. I have spent the morning updating my blog with content and reading through the biography pages I am finding my ability to recall history beginning to diminish. Unhappy with my mobile phone screen being broken twice, I have no recollection of how. that happened. Today I went outside in the afternoon, and a white blonde woman in a leopard print coat glared at me in Marks and Spencers, outside reversed her BMW, wound down the front passenger side window and threatened to smash my face in, a projection of sheer and utter hatred. I began to boil with stress inside the crash pad flat so took a walk on Gala hill to burn off some unsettling anxiety. Tonight I have been cancelled, just before midnight by two people because they don’t like what I have written on this blog. The message I got was “fuck off” and “don’t speak to us again”. I don’t want to elaborate anymore they are now blocked. I am used to being ostracised.

24th

Was on the phone to Ionos for almost an hour and a half to get an answer to a question about their blocking of XML-RPC in their shared hosting WordPress installation. The contract was cancelled after a short talk with the supervisor, they admitted that the WordPress app, from the Google play store, is now blocked because of troublesome DoS attacks on their servers. I have since moved this blog to my VPS but managed to keep my Domain name which I purchased with Ionos. They’re a good company and have always been flexible with customer service. Went into Spec Savers and purchased a decent pair of reading (prescription) glasses; because throughout my troubled life, my awesome blue eyes have been good to me. Spec savers are an awesome company. After breakfast in the Hunters Bar, I walked into the Reivers bar (for the first time) and order a pint of larger. I also ordered a drink for a blind man who appeared lonely in the Hunters bar. For about ten minutes (until this establishment showed its demons) I was surprised to see this violent picture. This Nation of Islam belligerent pictured above defamed White males as blue eyed blonde haired devils, a statement that was broadcasted worldwide on television. But few aware people take racist insanity he spouted seriously, mostly they view his ranting as madness, however they regard, even glorify by idolising him as a successful fighter. If you dont believe he was bad, read about the cult he hung out with. An old man came over and introduced himself, told me his story then said it was a lie, before asking if I had a penis, he then inquired how often I masturbated. The Reivers sports bar in Galashiels is hideous, if you don’t want to be spoken to as a whore then don’t go there. The “tranny” decimations go on and on with some woman (whom I have never spoken to) kicking the music box off with Rocky Horror Shows “Ballroom Blitz”, followed by some aggressive black rap music, but guess it doesn’t intimidate or bother me that much. After purchasing some cosmetics, and moisturisers, I walked into the Auld Mill Inn and knocked back copious drams of whiskey and pints of larger. I am burned out with thirteen years of inconsolable, life-destroying horror. As the night progressed into an incoherent fuddle I became more suicidal. The walk, with a dominos pizza in hand, back to the crash pad flat was cold, grey and sullen with flattening depth. I am glad there is nothing sharp in this here flat, as I probably would have turned in a blade unto my body. I have some very unsightly scars on my arms from a decade ago, at the height of religous persecution.

23rd

Today I met a male friend (Colin) and we caught the train from Galashiels to Tweedbank, the ticket inspector gave me a proper filth glare.

Leaving Tweedbank station we walked his two dogs along the riverside, he seemed to be bothered about the prospect of rain. Walking up the high street we arrived at the Kings arms bar. My friend ordered a bottle of white wine which we shared.

Later, after catching the bus back into Galashiels we met up with his girlfriend at the Auld Mill bar back in Galashiels. After an hour we went to his girlfriends house and shared a curry, then I walked the 600 metres back to the crashpad flat.

22nd

The neighbour above me is an evil nasty piece of work, the junkie was up all night with his friend, high on cocaine, his scooby snack reward for destroying us. Left the crash pad flat early in the morning, and walked west out of Galashiels.

Hitch-hiked to Neidpath Castle.

I then reversed my direction, and hitched back to Peebles, then to Innerleithen and into Selkirk. Hitched a lift to Hawick. and another to Jedburgh. I walked into the Mary Queen of Scots museum.

Walked into Scotlands oldest licensed bar, and was bemused at this pun placed above the bar shelf.

I managed to hitchike back to Galashields in two lifts.

20th

I woke this morning at 4 am, I had a restful sleep thanks to a glass of white wine last night. Scottish Borders Council is adamant about not accepting responsibility to rehouse me, even though Cornwall Council has shunned me a local connection. Isn’t it crazy that they rehouse people from all over the world? yet discriminate against me, but maybe that’s the point. The unhappy woman at the Borders council was aggressive with her words when confronted with the situation, not only this but they have now withdrawn from moving me to Kelso, sending me back to the “crash pad” flat, at least for today, stating I’ll be out by the end of the weekend.

I dropped my belongings back at the flat and then went out again. I went to the recharge cafe and enjoyed eggs on toast, a blue Berry muffin, and a cup of tea. I asked a woman working at the cafe about mental health services, she signed posted me to an agency named “we are with you” which turned out to be “ad action”, not for mental health but for drug and alcohol addiction problems. They then directed me to Citizens Advice who promised me a call back over the phone.

In town I revisited Specsavers and managed to get a pair of cheap glasses for just £30, My NHS voucher covered all the costs so by next week I will be able to see clearly to read and sew among other things! Leaving the town via some steep steps I returned briefly to the crash pad flat but could not rest. I walked to the fountain in Old Gala house gardens, which rested my nerves enough to take some pictures. And a wee burn running into a pond. I visited the Borders family history society and learned some fascinating history about the area, and decided to visit a “Pele tower” a mile west of Galashiels.

Came across some interesting fungi by the Pele Tower:

And a walk up to the hill fort.

Again as yesterday, I found myself too anxious to return to the crash pad flat so instead hitchhiked to Peebles and back again. The rides were not very good, but the last lift gave me just over £4 enabling me to purchase something to eat tonight. I had to walk around Galashiels aimlessly for at least another hour before I was able to burn off enough anxiety to walk back into my crash pad flat.

Tonight I am eating baked beans on toast for supper, two loathes came from the recycle food cafe and beans cost a snip at 40p. My gas appears to have run out so the crash pad flat is cold tonight, doesn’t help to be wet from spending most of today out in the rain. Later I searched outside for the gas meter, and with the help of a neighbour’s suggestion, I found the meter in a box at the front of the crash pad flat.

The gas card was at first faulty, then it took three attempts to switch the flat’s gas supply on. Messed around with the boiler before the hot water and radiators came back on. The filthy water coming out of my dirty socks made me heave, trauma can forlay comprehension, voiding every care for yourself. Cried to shame of self neglect until I fell asleep.

19th

Struggling to focus today, getting a lot of “jolts” and “missing gaps”. I have to find a perspective balance between being both insular and secular and practice some mindfulness before hypervigilance fragments my mind psychotic. Today I have committed myself to stop smoking, so maybe next week I will be able to afford to purchase a good pair of reading glasses. This morning I visited the recharge cafe and purchased a sandwich and a cup of tea, I also enjoyed a cake. I enquired about the cafe, and a woman came from the kitchen and explained that the cafe was set up as a nonprofit business by three or four people, with no religious stuff mentioned. This cafe has helped calm me today.

With an hour to close I left the cafe and took an impulsive walk south, rising a hill I could view Galashiels below.

On top of the Meigle Hill were three buzzing radio masts, hope they don’t turn them up I thought.

I found myself inbetween Selkirk and Galashiels, somehow I'd aligned my direction with the Southern Upland Way.

18th

Had my eyes tested this morning, it was like something out of the 90s blade runner film. They blew some air into my eyes and then displayed and explained some OCT imaging results on his monitor before performing some additional tests.

The result was mostly positive, that I have healthy eyes, but I do now have to wearing glasses for reading as I have become long-sighted with old age. The optician says this usually occurs at 45 so being 48 I’m slightly ahead. I left Specsavers with a prescription in hand but no money to purchase my granny specs (have 1p in my bank account).

17th

Took a video clip of Old Gala house garden fountain today:

The crash pad flat is very nearby, in Church Square.

15th

Today I went on a morning walk around Gala hill.

The walk ended a circular walk, from my flat, and back to my flat.

14th

Slept on the settle within this “crash pad”; next to me was a radiator, the heat was nice but space limited, twisting my neck. Could not bring me to sleep on the bed, been seven months since I slept on a bed, and such is the situation of diabolical estrangement.

After purchasing breakfast at my favourite Galashiels bakery I walked around town and took some photographs.

13th

The temperature dropped to 3c during the night, uncomfortable night’s sleep touched by the lingering cold. I require warmer clothes and a thicker sleeping bag if I am going to get through the approaching winter. The snow is on its way, in a fortnight a Galashiels local told. On a positive thought, I managed to purchase a warm wool cardigan from a charity shop. I am a hardy soul but I am almost 49 years old and in hindsight of what I endured during my life, I should be thinking about rehousing myself, admit these process crippling anxieties that ilude ingenuity. The wind chill is definitely minus but my body tempreture seems to be coping with the icey nip. Woken at 5 am by dog walkers but if I pack away now, I”ll be walking, shivering through the coldest hours of the dawn.

I’ve found it hard to remember to take. my pills to prevent Lyme disease, missing doses, mostly. during the evening, my mental health has been deteriorating, guess this is why I have been drinking to tame the hypervigilance before my mind breaks when I should be prioritising anticipation of the coming cold. I have warming memories of the folk of Galashiels, my heart will be sore to leave this town. I am planning on traveling again today.

I have been feeling things crawling around in my ears, but I suspect this is psychosomatic after throwing numerous earwigs out of my tent during the last few early mornings and late evenings. I am looking forward and being motivated to rise from my tent by anticipation of a warm roll and hot coffee I could purchase in town. It’s most strange to perceive kindness from inanimate objects, I guess from a dilapidated state of soullessness.

In a way writing this blog about myself feels selfish and self-centered, but usually, emerged in the deep depths of this isolated and objectified disparity I have little else if nothing else to write about. Packing up my tent, notably pulling out the tent poles burned my hesitant hands with sticky cold, my tent was frozen, and the material folded as if it were cardboard. The walk down the Brae was warming, and I found the bakery friendly, although the younger member of the bakery could not empathise with the predicament; I watched closely to find a sign of autism but only found Neoliberal conditioning. Coffee and rolls are of good quality here and save my stiff fingers from precariously tumbling around a hot gas stove.

The volunteers maintaining a strip of the park alongside an affluent street of shops were unfriendly, as if I were, with torn, frayed edges from the fringes of wilderness were unsightly to their prim, edgy, nit-combed garden, part of the gentrification facade that fronts, from the south, a dysfunctional and underfunded civic administration of Galashiels.

I prefer wild indigenous flowers. This purple toadflax is contrast among the crumbling brickwork of a redundant factory.

A walk down the road revealed a recharge cafe, curiosity curtailed inside to see the recycling of food waste. A posh squat cafe I thought.

Inside the cafe, I got to wash all the minging soiled clothes at the bottom of my rucksack which means now I have a clean pair of warmer socks. Happy to say I am leaving this cafe stuffed, food was delicious and the people volunteering are helpful.

I choose to walk mountains, to hitchhike locations of outstanding natural beauty rather than curl up inebriated inside pissy shop doorways; yet these predicaments are visible to only a fraction of society. Today I phoned the Borders council homeless team, I am not very optimistic about a positive outcome, and having given them my details to await a callback, I read the list of discriminative criteria displayed on their website.

To be eligible for a homeless service, you must be able to show that you:

There is an option of private rented accommodation, I will explore those possibilities.

I also booked myself in for an eye test but this isn’t happening till next week, as I am having to pull objects back at length to focus on them. I have set my phone alarm to go off three days earlier to remind me every day that I need to be back in Galashiels for the eyesight OTC test. A man named Andrew Stewart returned a call from the borders council, how weird that my previous council officer was named Alan Stewart. They seem to be in the mind of assisting me in returning to Cornwall, and liaising reconnection with the council there. Am not keen on returning to Cornwall, after spending 18 months there driven out of my distraught mind with disturbing unease of outright loneliness.

I returned to the Borders council at 2 pm and found they have temporarily housed me in emergency accommodation in Galashiels. This must be so insulting to my ancestry, who held Scotland’s longest occupied residential house, for over nine hundred years; how times have changed. The guy who was interviewing me about an emergency loan was expressing his doubts to me that I would be rehoused. He admitted that the decision was not up to him as he quizzed me about what I had and how I spent my money since Monday. I’ve figured out the central heating and changed a bulb around so I have got some lighting in the lounge.

I got the loan, which was £40 then he rang back and said he’d made a mistake and in fact, it was £80; felt as if he was playing head games, they know I have been diagnosed with BPD. The money came through via a text message which could be cashed at any PayPoint. I purchased a pint with my last £5 and sat with some locals until 8 pm, then. got to take away, and fell asleep after eating.

12th

Was a cold and uncomfortable night, in the early hours of the morning I woke to a downpour of rain upon my tent.

Last night I was violently sick from a pizza purchased at Domino’s, shall not be going there again.

To add to the discomfort I had pitched next to sheep poo, the smell lingered throughout my tent during the night. I joked with the bakery this morning stating “I am everywhere and nowhere”; and added with my thought “forsaken and deprived of a somewhere”. I found a quaint little cafe named T-4-2 and enjoyed soup and a roll.

Later I popped back into the Salmon Inn and met a guy who had been disinherited from his family legacy. He finished his coffee and not wanting to drink alcohol left the pub. I parted his company and went next door, returning to the auld mill inn. I remained here until the evening, I watched Rangers get crushed 7-0 at home to a visiting Liverpool. A local man, whom I have met on a few occasions was kind to me today, purchasing me an evening meal from Tony’s takeaway.

I walked sound Galashiels after 10 pm, up Gala hill but was too anxious and disturbed to settle and pitch for the coming night. I ventured over to the North of Galashiels and trying not to overwalk myself, pitched near a golf course. My tent is not pitched properly, missing side tent pegs have made my tent vulnerable to winds. I fell asleep thirsty.

11th

Woke up disturbed at 5 am and immediately packed away my tent before sunrise. I wandered around Galashiels during the morning, all toilets were locked, bursting for a no2. I walked the empty streets of Galashiels, found a bakery, and purchased a warm cup of coffee. Later I spoke to a seated man with a wee dog, he had “Self Made” tattooed on his hands, a saying (you are what you do) he recalled from his father. He told how the streets here disturbed him late at night, his flat directly above where he sat.

I cleaned broken eggs that had been cracked over a statue of a wee girl’s head with spring water I’d purchased, decimation is rife, everywhere I go. The newsagent I got the water from gave me a free cup of tea, they told of a person who found no respondent, thinking they were dead but turned out to be a heroin abuse victim.

I feel ajar this morning as to where to go; feeling a yearning to return to Europe, where I know it is harder for to side-swipe inherent worth from my life away from me. Found some quiet at the Salmon Inn, and beer to steady my jumping perceptions triggered despondent by anxieties.

10th

Awoken inside the bothy, the wood I’d sawed kept out the damp air. I walked out of the bothy and faced the cold mountain air.

I hitched a lift from a male socialist, he took me to Hawick. They are some of the most detached and deluded people I’ve ever met, totally ignorant of the mass murder orchestrated by Marxism that has happened and still is happening on a global scale.

After visiting a cafe for a hot roll, where I was observant, with some sadness at the sight of a tearful praying woman, I settled in a bar named the Waverly, I got on well with the barmaid and the clientele, we were all bemused by an elderly womans atire, she had arrived early afternoon.

I stayed in the bar for around four hours, first chatting at the bar and then playing pool with two brothers who shared the same surname as myself, one of them owned a bar up the road, incidentally, I beat him at a game of pool. Snagged the bus into Galashiels after some walk along the A9. Managed to get my tent up on the rocky ground, have to invest in new tent pegs in the morrow, but for now, it’s bye-bye unto zzz’s.

9th

Had a very deep sleep last night, and my legs and arms had a burning feeling this morning.

I visited the cooperative supermarket and pushed some breakfast. On the way in I met the deceptive woman who faked being ill yesterday, this time I chose not to befriend her.

To burn off anxiety I walked around the town of Melrose, passing the rugby ground. At 10 am I paid entrance to see Melrose Abbey, I’d heard Robert debris heart was buried there but wanted to know if this was true.

I don't believe Robert deBruis heart was burried in the location they claim (this is disputed also by historians). Nor do I believe deBruis would have his heart seperated from his body. Seperating a heart from a body was a punishment which leaves me to concluded he was stabbed in his back or set up to be murdered during the crusadesm, as a disused, useful idiot.

I walked uphill and south of the town, through a disused railway station on walked east along the A6091… I was glad to rise above and leave Melrose.

After an hour I got a lift from Melrose from a narcissistic farmer’s wife, despite this infliction she was empathic and showed me kindness. After a stop at a general store in Jedburgh (pick up some bothy supplies) she dropped me at Bryness, I walked up through the Kielder Forest a mile or two.

Until arriving at a small bothy named Spithope.

Suffering from exposure from two weeks of chilling cold wind.

Settled down and attempted to silent noisy thoughts, just one reminded of vulnerability, a False Widow spider.

8th

Last night I pitched my tent under the stealth of a tree, not unlike a hunted fox, high on hypervigilance, evading a bloodsport that would revere it being torn to pieces.

I walked away from the River and headed north along Edinburgh Road, a man stopped in a camper van and said he had been fishing near Dumfries.

Another lift from a retired police officer took me into Peebles. I popped into a Spa shop and purchased some clearance supplies. It’s strange how blonde cashiers (this occasion with septum piecing) disappear, suddenly, on a revisit after paying out food, but I am now munching happily on a pasty whilst walking down Peebles High Street.

Oh what a to-do, where does this leave economy driving tourists open to exposure, during the colder months of the year?

I left Peebles and hitchhiked to Innerleithen, visited St Ronan’s Well.

Oddly the water wasn’t fit to drink and entering the visitors centre tap water was made available in the unisex toilets. There was a partitioned place in the centre not accessible to the public, a curiosity burned as to what might be behind there.

Then took a walk around the hills through some woods.

Hitchhiked a lift from Innerleithen to Melrose from a farmer’s wife, she dropped me beside Melrose football ground. I walked up to the Abbey to find it closed, so wandered around to take a few pictures.

A woman of Italian origin was faking heart problems, arriving from a closed Melrose Abbey gate and luring me up to Melrose Square before she admitted she was a patient in a mental health acute ward. Her psychriatric nurse came fifteen minutes later to collect her.

I walked past the ship bar, down the High Street and into the Kings Arms. A local character befriended me for a few of hours, otherwise, I've been alone the entire evening. Encroaching Motown music drove me away from the bar and off onto my next endeavour, to find a place to pitch my tent. Took a half-hour walk around the river to find a tolerable location.