The Lucky Green Elephant Page

Palmovka, Prague, Czechoslovakia, EUROPE

Friday 17th June 2005

Yep, didn't crash, still here, in Prague.

I have to try and remember what happened since I wrote last. Let me think. Hmmmm. I was in Ajay. A boy came and said the taxi was ready. It wasn't outside the hotel, I had to walk ten minutes. Plus it wasn't mine, it was shared with an English woman, who was really angry as she too had been duped. We drove off for about half an hour.

I went through security, then found the check-in desk by chance. The man seemed to be know and had basic instructions on how to use the computer before him. I went through there, then immigration, where I was snapped at because I was leaving on the last day of my visa, even though that's wholly legal.

There was then a lot of sitting about. On time, we were called and I got on the plane. It was really, really nice. Very modern, Aeroflot's really improved. I took three diazapam, had dinner, slept and pretty much woke when we were in Moscow. I had a bottle of Vodka, but didn't need to touch it.

There was only half an hour to connect, so I had to race through. There was time for one smoke, and I got really dizzy, then onto another plane. It wasn't as nice, but not so bad either, and, to be honest, I quite enjoyed parts of that.

I got to Prague, straight through immigration, bags OK. Then sat outside and had a really nice smoke, two croissants from Ajay and a diet Sprite. I went back in and changed $20, bought bus tickets and went to the bus stop. I pulled out my camera to take a picture of the airport, and after all this time, it broke and the on/off switch fell off and I couldn't retrieve it. I haven't had a great look at it but I don't know if it will work.

Rode the bus, then the metro and got to the right place, but then was lost, so sat on a wall for a while. I had a quiet, reflective moment. It was so much cooler, quieter, nicer generally; I was glad to be there. I walked on for a bit and got lost, but then asked someone, this guy, who insisted on walking me all the way to the right street. I found the hostel, A1 hostel, Prague.

The guy wanted cash only, of another 3% with a card, which isn't allowed, but he took my passport and said I could pay later. I went into a four bed room, public toilets with no locks on any of them, but all clean. There was one guy there who's gone now who I never met.

I went into town and looked around and it's very nice, then I came back, drank and slept.

Next day I went to look for the Nikon office. I changed metro lines, caught the bus, then realised that my bag was missing, my shoulder bag. Not so much in it, except a magic scrapbook with pictures of my intended hostel, and all of the benzodiapines.

I found the Nikon building, it was a total maze. I was up and down lifts for about an hour; there were no signs anywhere. Finally I found the place and he said it will be $80, just for a switch, so I'll have a look and see if I can do it myself.

Oh, Mother phoned the day I arrived. It used the last of my credit, but worked fine. Now the phone is finished.

That's it really. The hostel is no smoking, so I sit out in the rain, but I did buy stuff and am doing some cooking. It's the weekend now, so the'll likely be someone in the room, which is nice I suppose, as long as I can use the kitchen.

The general plan is to, refine the business plan to make it as Dutch specific as possible, and then go there. I might have a week in another hostel just to meet people, I'll see after the weekend.

21st June 2005

Dream

I was in some shopping centre looking for people I used to know in England. Everyone had gone, but then I saw an old schoolfriend, Simon.

I had bought a load of clothes, but someone told me I'd spent too much money.

Interpretation

First part, nothing. The rest is relating to the increased expense of Europe, and that I'm thinking of getting two shirts and a jacket.

Well.... It's quite a good time here actually. I settled in the hostel quite well. It's sunny almost every day, and there's a patio to sit on. In the evening I make rice and pasta dishes.

Met a few people up there. One night, there were these two Irish girls. Can't remember now. One of them was called Eilaine I think. We chatted about different things. They told me about how the budget airlines work. You have to check yourself in apparently. Once we were talking about planes, we mentioned how shocked we were at the Schapelle Corby verdict. Maybe I should write to someone? I wrote to Howard after Mark Scanlon's wife came on the message boards asking for help... and he only served two years, from a life sentence.

The night after that, I met a Sweedish group. They had driven down via Poland and were on their way to visit a friend in Malta. They were really friendly.

I found a nice KFC to sit in, and got some nice stationary to write letters. I forgot to mention, but I wrote a letter to Junko before I left Delhi, and this other one to say I'm here.

I seem to be losing everything. The camera just about works. I've sellotaped the button to keep it in place, but to operate it, I have to remove the sellotape, put in a loose plastic disc, and keep wiggling it and hope it will turn on. The batteries are nearly flat. My spare lithium is in the bag I lost and the charger doesn't fit into the socket.

Yesterday, the dorm was full, so I ended up paying nearly twenty five US for a single. I'm back in the dorm though. I did get talking to the receptionist though, for about half an hour, because I wanted to know how everything works there. He does a long shift, eight in the morning to eleven at night. Past eleven, there's no one there. People enter via a locked gate. If someone wants to check in later, then they email and the boy stays longer, and gets paid the extra hours waiting for the guests.

All the beds are put on hostel world, so if someone doesn't advance book, they have to leave. That's not how I myself was going to do it. When I take a booking, then the plan had been to take the bed off hostelworld and put it back when they leave, in case they want to stay longer. But actually, I think it's better to have all the beds online, as long as you make it perfectly clear that you have to advance book. I'd feel bad asking people to go when it's full... but that's just the way that hostels work.

Their computer doesn't work. So when he takes bookings, he has to go to the cybercafe and deal with it there.

All of the people I've met, I asked how they found the hostel, and it was hostel world every time. I'm near certain I can fill my own place each weekend at least. So I must get on with it. I've found this cheap place to work, which the Irish girls recommended. I will make the plan Dutch specific, but also include addresses to go to when I get there. For example, the place where I apply for a business liscence, plus ask them the regulations for a hotel, what the paperwork. If I get it all worked out here, where I need to go, then I can get as much sorted out as possible. If I get a really good map and a yellow pages in English, list the things I need to buy, then I know where to go to get them. If I check in somewhere friendly, I might get lucky and get some good advice. Then get a local paper, or some expat paper, and try and understand what is being offered for rent. I was thinking of using a relocation consultant, but the more I think about it, at the very least, I would be able to do 80% of the work myself, perhaps even all of it.

Look at me. I'm excited. I was sitting there in India, realised I didn't like it anymore, decided what I wanted to do, jumped in, and here I am doing it.

Why doens't everyone do that?

Thursday 23rd June 2005

Prague, Chezk Republic, Europe

Ohhhhhh, it's nice to be here.

It was so definitely the right decision. I look back to India and don't feel whistful at all. The first time I left to Europe, there were times when the travel was hard, like in Turkey, and I would cry and miss it as much as a man misses his spouse. But now, I just remember the heat, the constant rip offs, aggressive police. I wanted the passport so much, and it all, that yearning for the culture, just slipped away from me. I'm certain that I'm not supposed to be there. I think everything happens for a reason. The time I had over Easter, which made me imagine a different life. But before leaving, I was planning to go to Nepal and then come back to Delhi, then I changed it to doing Central Asia. But I had a seris of dreams and OBE's which specifically told me what to do. I feel I've been moved, and I feel grateful and honoured for the guidence, and I pray that it is always there for me.

So, what have I been doing? Nothing. No, not nothing. I had a really productive day yesterday, I worked on the business plan, working out the extra information I will need, spelling corrections etc. I've found this great place to work, recommended by the Irish girls. It's good to go to department stores and look at all the things I need for the hostel. At night, I make nice pasta dishes and eat them on the patio. It's just good to be here, and I'm really getting on nicely with the receptionist and am learning a lot about the way things work in the hospitality business.

Expensive though, a hundred Euros lasts only a few days, three actually, and I really, really need a jacket for when I go up to Amsterdam and start making business contacts. I need to spend this money to eventually start up and accumulate though.

Monday 27th June 2005

Palmovka, Czech (actually spelling it right now) Republic

It's still nice to be here. Very, very nice. I'm loving it.

Haven't actually met anyone. Stayed in for a few days. The nice boy has gone, and there's a less nice girl, but it's OK. I've really worked on the business plan, and I reckon I'll be ready in two or three days. The plan includes everything, tax planning, possible locations, floorplans, contacts. I'll put the floorplans here, but they're gifs and not so sharp. The originals are here, here, and here.

Had a strange day yesterday. My legs were really hurting, so I ended up sitting outside the metro, just thinking back to the nightmare I had about mother back in Delhi. I was thinking the J could be July... well... that was what was bothering me.

Been looking for a jacket, but just can't get the arm size I need (damn genetic disorder).

I do enjoy cooking stuff. There's only a saucepan, but it's fun. Boil in the bag rice. Pasta with cook-in sauce and palmesan. Mashed potatoes and sweetcorn.

I've just been looking back over the diaries; I'm really proud of them. I think you can really get a sense of how I've evolved and changed and done, through the changing diaries. I'm especially pleased with the overall design of this page. Very, very happy.

Anyway, no other news, but I think ??? (and hope) I'm on course with the plan.

Tuesday 28th June 2005

Palmovka, Prague, Czech Republic

AOK. I spent almost the whole of yesterday on the diary rather than the business plan. I went home and made a LOT of pasta, which was nice. I sat and thought about the computing needs of the business. When set up, then for the first time ever, I'll have a PC for my own use, and I can use it to further reduce my possessions.

If you recall, after eleven months of culling, by sale and destruction, the only possessions I have in UK now all fit in a single suitcase... which is how they are stored.

With my own computer, I can further digitise and thus reduce everything. So, the computer will have a scanned. In the suitcase, there is a box of photographs, it's quite big, but I can scan all of that and destroy.

Also, there are all the slides and negatives I ever took. Of course, the best I can keep, but I would think that's less than fifty strips. All the rest, scan and destroy. Many of them are just snaps. I'll get an attachment for the scanner.

I can't remember so much what else is in there. Everything I ever received from my friends. I think, apart from the most important, I should just digitise and destroy, because, each is stored in seperate plastic box type folders.

If I can just get it all down to, legal documents, and the box with all the Junko stuff in.

All future possessions will belong to the hostel.

A box of Junko Imanishi is all I will own.

Nice thought.

I'd better get on with things then...

Forgot to say, had some mail from people. Simon sent a circular with a picture.

>DEAR GOD

I hope this picture will always serve as a reminder to us that how fortunate we are and that we must never ever take things for granted.

Let's pray for all those suffering around the globe and send this friendly reminder to others... Think & look at this...when you complain about your food and the food we waste >>>>>>>>>>daily....... .

Nikki wrote:

Hi John,

its nice to hear from you even if it has taken weeks, but i forgive you.

Good photos, (me very stoned) its nice to see someone elses photos from india for a change. Well ive been back for approx 6 weeks and its taken nearly that long to get back into the swing of things. So you're planning on going through russia to come back to england, well i look forward to seeing you but it maybe in scotland as im hoping to get a job there. Im glad you finally left cochin, i bet you only did it recently... So the moth died it did a very good impression of a dead moth then. Im glad you're well. Are you going to Gujarat to try and find your grandfathers birth certificate?

Ok, well write again when the mood takes you. I'll send some photos myself one day soon

Love Nikkix

Binnie too (lovely to hear from him!):

Dear John,

What a pleasure! The pictures were certainly a happy trip down memory lane. Your plans for the future sound good; I think that Amsterdam is a wise choice, I'd imagine (like you said) that there is a high demand for budget hostels and I think your kind of home type hostel that I'd previously pictured on a cliff (don't ask me why) in Spain, would fit in equally well in Holland. It will also be easier for me to visit!

Curious that you had that feeling; Simon went home early, as I'm sure you'll know if you e-mailed him. If not, he had some problem with his knee and got flown back business class to hospital by his insurers. It seemed a shame for him, but i think he was glad to get back, in a way.

Will and I are apart at the moment - I'm north of you in McCleodGanj (Dharamshala) and the dope intake is almost equalling cochin! We leave exactly one week after you, on the 21st. We'll be in Delhi on the evening of the 17th - will you have moved on? It would be very nice to see you again.

If not, good luck in your trip back to England. what is it 11 years, one month? Fuck me. All the best with the hostel and let's stay in touch so that we can have a cochin reunion (Anders might even materialise!) over in Amsterdam.

I'll reciprocate with some of my photos soon.

All the best,

Binny x

Later

Some good links

www.everyonedoesit.co.uk
www.uk420.co.uk

Friday 1st July 2005

Palmovka, Prague, Czech Republic

Wow, I've actually finished the business plan, which actually began with me in Colva in May, jotting down in a notebook the things I'd need if I were to start a hostel business.

Not so much to say. I've spent the rest of the time researching how to grow 420.

Oh, I joined a new religion. My membership certificate is here.

Monday 4th July 2005

Palmovka, Prague

Dream

The dream was some kind of a story I was watching but not involved in. It involved a beautiful young woman who was going about an idylic life having fun, then she went home to her mother.

Suddenly the tone changed and there was a sense of regret. Her mother apologised that she could never have true happiness or love because of her. The girl lay down while the mother turned into a vampire and started sucking her blood.

Interpretation

Could be random, or it could be a comment on what a drain I am on everyone I meet.

7th July 2005

Central, AMSTERDAM, Holland

Yep, got here. Back in Prague, all the Hotels in Amsterdam were full. I managed to get one day in a place, and the next two days in a campsite.

The day I awoke, it was one pm and raining. I'd wanted to go and look at jackets but then wasn't in the mood. It bothered me that I'd dreampt I'd got one and regretted it. I went into town and Phonned Anne, and all is well, so I went up to Tesco and looked at one, bit the bullet and got one.

The trip over was uneventful, then we arrived at Amstel. I had a coke, and came to central station. There hadn't been time to write the directions, and the plan had been to wait until the tourist board opened, then buy a map and ask. But I was able to scribble a little map from the public information board.

The room was busy until two pm. so I stored my bag and had a little walk about. Then came back and showered. There were two friendly Japanese women there who gave me the key as they left. I sat alone with a cigerette, and then showered.

Then went off looking for a LEGAL COFFEESHOP.

I felt really intimidated. I mean, I was going to do something that would get me a year in India. But I went anyway. I walked around for ages looking for the right one.

First I went in Grasshopper in Centrum. I sat down and wasn't sure what to do. Then some other people came in and walked up to a sign that said 'Menu'. Suddenly, a window lit up showing all the drugs on sale. You had to buy a one gram minimum and it was fifteen Euros; which is expensive.

So I walked on to a shabby middle eastern place, Coffeeshop Ben. I asked for the menu and it was a printout. He asked in I wanted grass or hash, so I said grass. There was only ten euro deals for 1.7 grams and I said no, so he said he'd do me half. I asked which the best one was, and he said skunk something-or-other, so I had 0.8 grams and a coffee.

Sat down, opened it up. Oh God, that's nice. Smells citrusy. I just sat there with it before me, pulled it apart, rolled it, breatheeeeed iiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnn.

My goodness, is it twenty past four already!

Yeah, it was nice, but I don't think I should go for Indica variety again. It was nice and I enjoyed myself... but it's too heavey.

I really looked at its effects. There was no paranoia like that rubbish in Colva.

Here, my body felt very relaxed; I didn't want to get up to everything. There was a slight inner-pressure at my upper digestive tract but the sensation was pleasant. I was able to listen to the music and pick out the individual instruments. Everything going on around me was slowed and I was happy.

But I made a conscious choice to think about things that hurt me. I thought about all the injustice in the world, and everything seemed mentally clearer to me. There were occasional 'sudden understandings', where I could palpably feel other people's pain.

And that kind of lead to me thinking of what's wrong with me, and my own pain. And, it was, my understanding of my condition, more lucid and clear, and painful in a different way. It's hard to explain because it's going to come accross to you that I wasn't enjoying myself, and I was... look, I can't explain it, just go and get wasted (legally in Holland please) on some Indica variety marijuana.

I went home and I had about half left. I ate a bag of chips and my sensations of taste were heightened. At home, there was no one there, so I smoked four more, almost all except for one bud, then I lie for sleeping.

Though I didn't actually sleep, I kind of lie there, but I wasn't tiered enough for sleep, even though I was shattered. I was happy, but very aware of exactly what's wrong with me, in a very lucid way.

I woke up the next day, today, about six. I felt, still a little the same. The breakfast was fantastic, free and unlimited. I took a picture of the dining hall, and the little piece of plastic that I was using to turn the camera on and off went flying off into space and I just couldn't find it. So that's broken now.

I think I've always used alcohol to forget who I am. When I drink, I fall into a fantasy world, being someone I'm not and can't be... and I'm happy like that. I relax and stop thinking about the real me, and can sleep OK.

With marijuana, I don't fall into fantasy. I still feel happy, and I feel this happiness generally about the world around me, in the present moment where ever I am at that time. Everything is very clear, slowed and lucid.

I can generally control my thoughts. When I then choose to think about myself, then the same clarity of thought crosses over, without fantasy or lies, and I see who I am. This rarely happens when I'm sober because either I don't allow it, or I'll distract myself somehow. When I'm drunk, they give way to fantasy. Because that happens, the fantasy is soft enough for the thoughts to slow down to sleep. If I'm using marijuana, then the thoughts are still there, but my body's relaxed and I can fall asleep OK.

Good enough for me!

I could, now, go and see some quack, confess everything, and god knows what they'd put me on, but it would be something. Something I have to have my little piece of paper for the chemist to give me, then go off begging for more if it works and I really need it. Of course, nothing works, it's incurable. The medical profession likes to pretend it can cure anything, and lies when it can't; it's a multi-billion dollar industry of course.

But I've found my answer. It's over there in Centrum, and Neiwmarket, and RLD and where ever there's the sweet smell of coffee. I'm not running away as I thought. By doing this each time, I'm just facing up to everything in a way that is relaxed. I'm even starting to think of answers now I'm off it, so the next time I do it I don't face the lucidity of hopelessness but have answers I can choose to think, thus experiencing giggling fits rather than staring sessions.

Anyway, I've got the bus to London tonight, and a night in a new Youth Hostel in for a night.

I'll tell you a funny thing I recall. The first time I got sick, I mean when it hit me, was in 1997 and I was in Puri, on of the few places where Marijuana is legal in India, but I didn't like it. Now I'm using it as a cure. The other thing is, I lived those two weeks with J in a Youth Hostel, and now after all this time, I'm creating one.

Right, my bags in storage. Better get on, and make sure there is absolutely no trace of marijuana on me at all, as I'd get paranoid crossing the border.

If all goes well, the next post should find me back in London, happy and gay.

Saturday July 9th 2005

Mocha Cafe, Charing Cross Road, London, England

Yep, here I am, all in one piece.

I left that cybercafe in Amsterdam and went to get my bags. I changed from flippies to shoes in the common room and there was a TV tuned to the BBC news. There had been all these bomb attacks in London, 40 dead, 700 in hospital. I didn't have time to watch.

I went to the train station and posted a letter to Junko, then went over to the bus station in Amstel. I put my last little bit of marijuana in the bin and checked in, then sat in Burgerking for a while, then boarded.

We went a little way and the Dutch driver started talking about the 'tragic attacks'. I say it like that because he kept overusing the word 'tragic' (not that it wasn't tragic). He said that there will be extra security. Passport checks in Belguim and France, a French and British check in Calais and another check in Dover. We were supposed to be there at half six in the morning, but the roads will be packed as the transport system is down. He'll do his best to get us there before ten. When we stopped for a break he said only ten minutes, then I'll drive off without counting... which he did (though all were aboard).

At Calais, it was cold. There was a special building set up. There was about three people before me at the French half, but to enter British immigration, there was a huge queue. It took about forty minutes to get through. I started to get scared. What if they ask me what I do for a living? What do I do for a living right now?

In the event, a black woman asked if I was cold, saw an Islamic stamp (Jordan) in the passport, checked my name in a computer, then let me through.

Outside, a Jamacian asked me where I was from. I looked at the building I had just left. Nuts. You could just have waited outside without going in and no one would know.

We got on the boat and I found the smoking place. The Jamacian had a couple of beers and started dancing and singing round, shouting hello to everyone, but he seemed really nice. I was cold.

We got through to Dover and the driver couldn't believe it, but immigration and customs were completely closed, so we just drove straight through.

We arrived in London and the driver said 'We are haf hour early because I little exagerate... OK, I very big exagerate... anyway, we here.'.

The Jamacian started to clap, and this turned into a round of applause.

I went to the underground. Because it was before 9:30 I had to pay the rush hour charge on the ticket. Someone stepped away from their bags and the Underground staff asked him not to leave it unattended. But the man turned and called him a f***ing N***er because he'd snapped aggressively.

I took the districk line to Stamford brook and the directions from www.hostelworld were perfect. Usually I have to ask someone. It was a huge place in a suburban street that looked like a converted convelesence home. I left my bags there, then went to the cafe in Picadilly that has Night Cafe by Van Gogh on the wall. I sat there for three hours, I was SO tired.

Then I went to Prince Charles Cinema and saw something with Bill Murray in. It was OK but I kept falling asleep.

I went home and checked in. I decided, as tired as I was, to wash everything I own (then forgot my hat). I went down to the shop, ?.50 for everything, but the hostel is 'cashless'. So, the room key is actually a credit card with magnetic strip. You have to put coins in a vending machine to 'charge' it, then in the bar, shop etc you use it. It's a scam really, because they only refund more than ?, plus it generally encourages you to spend more. I didn't have change so went to reception but the receptionist had just made a mistake and was doing a chargeback, so it took ages to get change, then the shop had closed.

Eventually, I got powder and the tokens, then went up and did it. There was a Japanese woman with her daughter who couldn't worked the dryer, so I did it for them. I went out for a smoke and said hello to a Russian guy who was travelling with his family. Then I got drunk, lost my key and they issued another but said would bill me ?. Went to bed, woke up, found the key. Checked out, breakfast was open, but everything had been eaten.

I went to Tescos and had a cheese wrap. Then I went to St. James church, which I always do when I'm in the area. A man stopped me at the door and looked me up and down and asked if I was there for the conference. When I said no he said I'd have to leave. This is bad. They even rent out that place to authors flogging self-help books. But if a place is a religious sanctuary i.e. been blessed as such, it isn't really OK to turn people looking to practice spirituality away.

I came here to this really really fabulous brand new cybercafe. Next, I'll go cinema again, then.... awwwww Gaaawwwd, to Anne's.

I'm on a downer to be honest. Not a major one. Just, I don't know. To be back. There's a sense of sad acceptance in me at the moment. I've always travelled hoping to be normal, to meet someone and settle, write, be happy. Now I just, I suppose, accept that I can't because of my illness. What I always really, really, really wanted in life was to be successful as a writer and settle with a family. But now I accept that I can't have that. I write eccentrically, about things that will be mainstream in the future but aren't now, and I have to many health and identity issues to meet a life partner.

The hostel, mine, will be OK. I'll still write and can use the profits to self-pubish. I can get back into painting. I can make another difference in the world by trying to involve the young idealistic travellers in the charities I like, The Samaritans,Lepra and of course, I've been supporting The Red Cross since I was a teenager.

I spent a lot of time thinking about my... health issues, and the change I'm making in my life. Sometimes I think it's great, other times I'm scared of failing. But I thought, whatever, even if it helps one person other than myself. I thought It makes all the difference, if you make a difference, then realised that it's a good catchphrase.

Though when I checked out this morning, on the blackboad behind reception, it said:

No matter how hard life gets, nothing is harder than the diamond inside of your soul

Friday 15th July 2005

Kettring Road, Northampton, England

This is a new cybercafe, but it's really expensive. I had planned to write a lot. As it is, I'll just say that I'm back, and I hate it (obviously).

I arrived at Anne's place, and just went straight upstairs like I'd never been away. Mother came on Monday and we met in BHS. We talked about the business, then went to The Old Bank (which used to be called The Rat and Parrot).

I used my debit card and realised that the overdraft is nearly a thousand pounds in debt; and hated myself (obviously).

I bought a jacket in Prague. I was looking at lots and weighing up the choices for as long as I was there, then went back as I was leaving to get the one I wanted. Then I put it on here and realised I grabbed the wrong one and it doesn't fit at all, so I hated myself for that.

I want to be away and not poor.

I mentioned to Mother, that getting references for the landlord or rental company is going to be hard, especially if they check them. It's just a matter of getting my foot on the ladder someway.

I hate being here (obviously).

... I think tomorrow, if I can get up, I'll start moving the money into one main account, ask them at the bank how I'll move it to Holland, and if I can keep the accounts with a Dutch residential address.

I need a telephone book, but I don't know if the Dutch embassy will have one. I'm going to need to go to London to get some books out. Hopefully, I still have my library card.

Oh God, I miss my camera. Mar gave me some money Monday and already, it's finished, I have to use the card which is almost maxed out. I have to get out and make money.

I hate this (Oooohhhh, SO obviously).

Saturday 16th July 2005

A new cybercafe in town, Kettring Road, Northampton

This is a great new place, because it's only a pound, and I can print from it, which is a lifesaver. Also, they leave you alone in the room, so I can use cd's, and from what I can work out, there's no nanny software; I can download and run whatever I want... which means that tomorrow, I could bring down all the pictures of the Junko stuff; I've wanted to put that online for a while, but the cd I was travelling with was corrupted.

All the stuff I left behind is in the blue suitcase I got in London, of which I'm pretty sure I lost the key. I can't work it out because I always kept them in my money-belt. I'll have a proper look today and if not, break the lock off.

Hopefully, this place is open tomorrow. I've got quite a few places I can write to for help concerning my business endevours. The Job Center actually have a section on their website about working elsewhere in the EU. Considering that I've never worked in UK and never paid tax here, I don't know if there's any help available... but it doesn't hurt if a letter goes out. Also, I can type up more detailed property requirements and sent them to rental companies so that I have something lined up to view once I get there. I found one rental agency that was particularly good. Also, if I get a letter off to ACCESS with my unanswered questions and to see if they can do anything to help me. There are some really good contacts on the links site there. I just read that a landlord can ask for proof of income before renting... but then this is... I don't know. Perhaps if I could show that I have access to six months rent and a bank reference?

I just noticed that the guy here has written the wrong time down... hopefully that'll be on his computer.

If I can get a load of letters sent out on Monday, then see Mar and go to London for a bit on Tuesday for some researching, and when I get back, there could be some replies? I can go to Amsterdam the following week, so that gives me a chance to reply and make some definite contacts.

Also, if I write to Darren. I've got a Virgin sim card now, so I'll give him the number and hopefully he'll reply and we could meet some time around the weekend. The thing is that, there's a good chance that he's going to know a dealer. That would save an awful lot of time and money, if I could have contact with them myself, I could just go whenever I need it. If not, then Yasmine will know where.

Oh, I bumped into Yasmine, I think the day before Yesterday, in Sainsburys. She'd just come from a funeral, the guy who owns a local night club. She's OK. Is going to Pontins for a holiday. I'll likely see her over next weekend. This, hopefully, is my last week without any... you know.

And of course, Nikki owes me some from India. Only three... but better than nothing. Then again, she knows someone...........

The overdraft's nearly maxed though. I only hope I can last the weekend.

I'll try and have a productive day tomorrow, and really start getting on with it.

Wednesday 20th July 2005

Cybercafe opposite Radio Northampton, Kettring Road, Northampton, England

Actually, I think I'm going to the toilet now, though I was going to stay longer.

Just one thing. There's a rat in the little bedroom. So what, right? Wrong. It's a huge deal, pest control are there etc. etc.

So she wants it that there's to be no food upstairs. I've emptied all of my food out and have it with me, and now can't eat there. I'll have to eat small food in town or in the park and not save any.

It's not really about the food. She really wants everything downstairs so she can be in charge, see what I have etc. She was always like that. As a kid, a teenager, I wasn't allowed to flush the toilet, I'd have to say when I'd been so she could do it.

It's good that she's intolerable to live with because it will just make me work harder to establish myself in Amsterdam.

Ooooh, it's good to play the glad game.

Thursday 21st July 2005

Picadilly Backpackers, 12 Sherwood Street, Picadilly, London

Well, I did get away at least.

I was really dreading going home that day of the rat. She'd asked me to take my food that was in the room and put it in her cupboard. I said no, and took it with me. Now, I knew there would be something when I got back. Not an arguement... but as Mar put it, she does like to talk about absolutely nothing, for a very long time.

As it turns out, it was caught. She hadn't gone and looked, but said that she could hear it struggling to get out. She's paying her gardner to drown it. Actually, I think rodents, even the larger ones, are good pets. Clean and loyal. In a way, it was a good thing, not playing pollyanna, but because I thought it was going to be all this trouble, I did book London, and here I am.

So, I woke up this morning, packed and came downstairs. A said that there had been trouble in London. Four more bombs. I came anyway, but M was texting me all the way.

I arrived, went outside for a smoke, came in and the northern line plus victoria were down. So I walked over to Euston Square, all closed because one of the bombs was a Warren Street, the next station. I came back to Euston Charring Cross Branch because northern line was going as far as Bank.

When I bought the ticket, the man told me Picadilly line was also down. I'd have to go to Central line and get as far as Oxford Street.

The trains were absolutely packed. An old Irish man got on and started shouting at an Asian Youth. He said,
'Why do you people come over here to this country and start ruining everything?'
'This is my country, I was born here.'
'You don't look it!'

This was all being shouted.

I took a wrong turn on Oxford Street, but ended up in Golden Square, which is round the corner. My legs were in agony, I could barely stand up. I managed to check in after sitting down for over an hour, then showered and had a rest, then came to type this.

One thing. At Northampton station earlier, I bumped into Darren, as I knew I would at some point. So, we finally swapped numbers. He said let's have a drink, but I wanted to get on. I'll see him after I get back, now definitely on Monday.

I might write some more later if I get bored.

Friday 22nd July 2005

Picadilly Backpackers, Sherwood Street, Picadilly, London

Nope, didn't write any more after all.

That little yellow graphic above, the file's written as 'hanko' which I assumed means marijuana in Chinese, but it actually means 'personalised stamp'... which I always thought from my time in the Orient, was a chop.

The symbol at the top of this page, I 'think' it's from taima.org, which I assumed means marijuana in Japanese. But taima actually means either a timer, or offerings at a Shinto shrine. Marijuana is mariwana in Japanese (I'm using an online dictionary. Hemp is asa, asanuno, nawa, ama, or mafu.

As the French say: you learn something everyday.

The police shot someone today in Stamford station. As far as I can understand, in the back as he was running away. There were all sorts of scares and many lines were still closed from yesterdays mess. Tomorrow, I have to go to the new place, only 9.50 a night, but right up in Hendon Central. If the Northern line's still down, I'm in serious trouble. I'd have to walk from Golders Green.

I slept on the sofa last night, in the TV room where I am now. It was really comfy, but I don't think I slept so much. I prefered it there because I always wake up in pain and it bothers people, plus I think I snore.

So I went out in the morning and sobered up, then sat with tea. For some reason I was thinking it was Saturday. When I realised that it was Friday, I decided to sort out some of the banking issues. I was only five minutes from the Picadilly brance of RBOS, so I popped over.

I explained the problem. By thier fault, opening my bond was delayed by three months, and so I was refunded the money I lost into a seperate account. Now I'm setting up abroad and likely won't be here when it matures in September. Can I nominate a Nationwide account.

Yes, I can. We sorted it all out. She kept on explaining the things I had to do. When I asked questions, she seemed to think I was angry about something. Then spent a long time apologising that ID is needed and that it's the same for all customers, even though I had ID with me ready and of course fully expected to show it.

But she was friendly enough. There was 90 in the savings account, instead of 30, and neither of us can work out where it came from. I withdrew it and kept two quid there. Now, when the 2500.00 matures in September, it goes to my Nationwide account.

OK, so what I'm doing is making as much money as possible liquid to take to Holland. I went to Amex and cashed all of my travellers cheques except USD 60. 980 US was 490 odd Sterling. I went to Nationwide and paid that into my ISA, together with the Scottish money.

Then I saw the advisor. I explained that I opened the bond in Cheapside, and was told I could make one withdrawal up to five thousand pounds without penalty. He said he doubts it.

He looked at the computer. They only offered this bond for two weeks, so he had to find someone to get the T&C. It turns out it's a 90 notice required. So I did that on the full 2100.00 and it will be paid to my instant account on 20th October 2005.

So overall, there's a lot less than I thought. I still have the shares to sell. I think, at the moment, I might be able to get five grand Sterling.

So I went onto Victoria library and looked around. They have the Hindi tapes I was desperate for when I was here last... but I have no way to copy them now. I suppose M could? Maybe Darren has some kind of player? Or Nikki? I dunno.

They had some books about Amsterdam, but they were all from 2000 (year) so I'm not sure how relevant. I read that the government owns most of the land and buildings, generally you pay two months as deposit, there's a distinct legal difference between commercial and residential properies, and if you use a finding service, they charge two months rent. Most accomodation is found by word of mouth because the market is so cramped in every segment.

It's all a bit depressing, to not have enough money and to be facing so much in setting this up, potentially project-threatening obstacles.

Well, it's a bit later now. I had a drink, because marijuaua is illegal in the country in which I was unfortunately born, then I went to smoke because this hostel doesn't give personal choice. I walked around the block and sore some police incident with people being body searched, got some red hot fries from Burgerking. I met this really nice Spanish boy. He'd just been thrown out of the 'attached bar' on Golden Square. He said that he doesn't care about the no-smoking rule because he puts a plastic bag around the smoke alarm and just smokes as he sees fit because... he's paid for the room and wants a personal choice.

OK, I don't really love being in the room. In England, with all the walking I do, a whole bottle of spirit isn't enough to make me sleep without waking up in pain and disturbing everyone.

It's a funny situation at the moment. I'm in the TV room, and the computer I've been allocated is just a bean-bag type affair, and so I've turned it so that my bag is by the wall... but I'm staring into space as I type this.

There's a few things I've oticed in my consciousness recently.

One is that I spend a lot of time in flashback mode to my first expereince of hospital. Considering my health problems, there's obviously something very, very wrong with me. I remember when I was five. I woke up and when I tried to stand, there was a agoising pain in my right knee and I collapsed in pain to the floor. I was taken to the hospital and they x-rayed me and said that there was nothing wrong (I later diagnosed myself at 30 and realised that in the first stages it needet a CT scan). So I was deemed to be the kid that tried to get a day of school by lying. I was taken to schook in the afternoon, where the people who were paid by the state to educate me and look out for my welfare, held me up by my arm until I would put weight on my left leg.

It was weakened from that first attack. I remember as kids, from five to nine, there was an assembly every morning. We had to sit on the floor for half an hour. I used to dread it. I saw a film on TV where a POW delibrately broke their leg to be excused from something, and it worked, and I used to get a brick and hit my shin as hard as I culd to see if I could break it.

When we went to the upper school at twelve years of age, there were chairs at assembly. I was shocked and overjoyed, and mentioned it to the children around me. .. They looked at me like I was mad. They hadn't been in the same pain I had been in all that time, and I only realised it at that time.

I was so alone and utterly disregarded at that time, I had this serious condition and no one noticed, and the only time I had iver complained I had been punished... and as a five year old, I just assumed, in the logic only an alone five year old can possess, I assumed that what happened to me happened to everyone, and so even though I was in pain, I never mentioned it again, what was the point.

But I notice now, as a thirty four year old, I'm haunted by the same image., no, I mean, the same experience.

It's hard to recall this, as I spend so long flashing back to it, and it still hurts. Sometimes, thirty years later, I find myself in the middly of a room, or even the street, with my arms held up against my head, and I don't know how long I've been like this, but I was back there, with the same smells, intensity of emotion, as alone, wholly reliving what happened.

When I first got to the hospital, I remember Mother met some mother she know, who's son had shut his finger in a door.

When it was my turn, they said I was to be x-rayed. I was seperated from Mar by a woman who put me in a wheelchair and took me into a room where there was only me and her. She was about forty. She liften me up and put me on the table. I remember (often (relive)) a very bright light. She asked me to lay my leg on the table flat, as I had it arched. I tried, but there was a sharp pain... so I lifted it up again.

She looked so angry, and shouted at me to do it again. I tried, but only half-heartedle as it was painful.

So she raced over, and forced the whole limb flat against the table with all the strength she had, plus her body weight.

And this is the thing, I was British, in a British school, and even then, thirty years ago, I know there was no point telling anyone or doing anything. Powerless. I just waited until the pressure went and lifted it up, she pushed it down, I cried but only from the pain, I knew that there was no chance of anyone coming or even if anyone came, anyone giving a damn.

At the end of it all, we had an x-ray. A lady 'doctor' said there was nothing wrong, and that I had particularly strong bones. Then she told M. that it was particularly important I go straight to school or I would learn a malingering habit. So I was taken back. The teacher, Mrs Touchener (maybe I remember the name wrong?0 dragged me round until I would walk, then left me in a chair.

A large girl with a hare lip took me under her wing, and took my work to be marked. By the time school ended, I could walk, it had passed.

Looking back, everything was weakened. I couldn't get up and down off the floor, and still can't. I couldn't run so far, or do things like push a car. I'd wake in pain sometimes. But it never occoured to me to tell someone. I just lived like that. Who would I tell anyway. I was five and they said I was lazy.

Then of course in 1997 it hit my hip and soon after all joints, and here I am. I diagnosed it myself in 2000 when I was in Nepal. I've always had a lot of improvement with carefully thought out homeopathy, which relies on modalities. Some branches of homeopathy have a leaning towards physical diagnnosis and I wanted to look into that, to see if was better than my own casetaking (which was pretty good). While I was surfing the net in this pursuit, I came across a medical condition, whth a range of life-stories, medical photos, physical and mental smptoms, and I recognised myseft straight away. This is me.

It was hard, because it's a gorrible thing, so I just forgot about it for a few months. When I was in India, I looked into the chance of getting a test done. It's much better there. In England, you have 'your' doctor, "Have you seen YOUR doctor", but in India, you see whoever you want, then keep your own medical record with you. Payment is in arrears, and if they treat you like some piece of s**t on the side of your shoe, you walk out and they don't get paid. That's it, you have the paying power.

Anyway, it's a genetic disease. To test chromosonal make-up, it needs a Karyotype of something, and I couldn't do it in Goa. But the joint problem I have is a rare complication. So rare, if I did have this, then because all my symptoms from birth are textbook, then I would have this problem. So I went to see someone, actually an oncologist, but that was coincidence, and ordered my own bloodtest. He said, when he saw what I wanted,
"Do you use a condom when you use prostitues..."
Pause. "I don't use prostitues".
"OK, do you use a clean needle when you use hard drugs?"

So, the guy obviously had a problem dealing with foreigners and a few stereotypes to boost. There are a lot of raves in Goa, and the press are full of the antics of this place.

In the end he ordered the bloodtest I was specifying.

It came back a while later, I took it to an orthopedic surgeon who ripped me off, asking for 200, then claimng I didn't pay.

But whatever, it was clear in front of me.

I sent it to Junko and forgot about it. I didn't want to throw it away because it was the answer to everything that was wrong with me... but it was so awful, that I didn't want it with me.

So all I could think to do with it was to give it to my only friend in the world, and feel like less of a monster because her sweet letters would still keep coming... and they did and I pushed it out my mind.

Anyway, sitting here alone in London drunk (of course) I wanted to say (here, because I can't tell anyone else; it's insane). There's not a week that I don't have a flashback experience, to the point of losing reality, of the hospital... specifically the xray. Someone in a nice uniform I thought would help me, hurted me, and no one really cared.

But, there's not a DAY that I don't flash back to two weeks in Perth with Junko Imanishi, forgetting today, just like I'm there.

Sunday 2? July 2005

Charing Cross Road, London

There are really good headphones in this brilliant cybercafe, so I'm listening to beautiful life.

I don't know if I mentioned it. When I was in Picadilly, I slept both nights on the sofa in the TV room. I had a lot of lucid dreams and an OBE that seemed to last for hours. But all I can remember from the whole experience is being in the little bedroom and mother coming in and telling me she was already sick now and might not get better. It's difficult to explain, but it was very lucid, and somehow we both knew we were out our bodies and speaking soul to soul.

Last night I was in Hendon. I drempt that I was with Mother in a cafe and she told me she was ill now, and that her liver was really starting to hurt.

Wednesday 27th July 2005

Kettring Road, Northampton, England.

Dream

I was at Anne's house and a big package arrived from Junko, and I squealed in happiness.

I was in a car with M&A, in Booth lane (a road that is between my Upper School and the place I went to college (Northampton college). I was really ill and knew I was dying. I told them I would be dead in four months.

Interpretation

Another one... like in Colva, and then Picadilly. I'm definietly being warned. That would make it December, would it be me or Mar? Maybe me as a metaphor for Mar... or vice-versa. This is horrible because I can't tell anyone about it.

Thursday 28th July 2005

Koki? Internet Centre, Kettring Road, Northampton

OK, let me get this out the way. Yesterday, I wrote to some organisation that regulates Dutch estate agents with my... Extended Property Requirements and also wrote some new letters. Of course, I lost my letter today, in the post office, so I don't even know if it's been sent.

I was going to type a lot... of course, but I'm off to the cinema I think.

These dreams and stuff about mother are ominous and leave a heavy cloud over me. I'm trying to get set up... but it's so hard to get anything done.

Good news concerning marijuana. I must update from leaving Picadilly and going to Hendon as I guess stuff has happened. Now, I must go.

Friday 29th July 2005

Kettring Road, Northampton, England

Right, let me recap what's happened from being in Picadilly. I left and went to the place in Hendon. I wasn't expecting much, but was pleasently surprised. The boy was friendly, and the dorm wide and spacious.

I went into the city for whatever. I came back in the evening and the only place you're allowed to smoke is in the cellar, so I went down there for a bit. After a couple of hours it was full of long-termers. A German woman came and shook my hand, and then left, I'm not sure why.

I went and sat out alone at a bus stop to avoid the stuffiness. There was a young, well dressed Asian man who sang to himself.

Back inside the cellar I was alone. I played two games of pool and numerous of darts by myself.

A guy my age with very blonde hair came in. He was Dutch, so we chatted about Amsterdam real estate and he promised to keep an eye out for my hostel.

I think nothing else much happened in London. Then Hendon place was strange. In the reception was a regular property management company. So in the morning that I left, I sat in the cellar while these two office workers paced up and down talking about the problems with their tennants and landlords. Strange, as I'll be dealing with people like this soon.

I came back to Northampton. Because I had slept on the sofa for two nights, then spent two evenings in a damp cellar, I was absolutely crippled. I even thought I might not get back.

I came to the British Home Stores restaurant and mother was shocked.

I was equally shocked when she produced a bag of marijuana, which she had got off a customer for me. I couldn't believe it.

We chatted, then I limped home. There, I smoked one and sat inside. I had showered first, and somehow blocked the toilet, even though I didn't really use it. A&M were upstairs when Carly, my eldest niece (Yasmine's daughter) turned up. I've never spoken to her because Yasmine detests her and she's close to G. Anyway, she asked if they were in, and I just pointed to the ceiling.

They came down and the three of them were chatting. Carly is getting married to a guy named Richard. English. I went outside for a bit, then sat at the table. It was weird because I had been pulling apart the marijuana when she came in, surrounded by papers and it would have been quite obvious what I was doing. When she left, she said nothing, knowing I won't speak to her. And that was that.

I was stoned, so for the first time ever I actually sat in the loungue for five minutes, much longer as I let M. cook for me. I did it mainly because I wanted them to see a positive effect from marijuana. They misunderstood, and assumed I was hesitant to take food upstairs because of the previous rat, which is now dead incidentally, anyway, the end result of it all was a big deal being made about food, which is one of the quickest ways to wind me up that I know.

Next day, I came down. M had been shopping. I was still bad but decided to go out anyway. Mother received a text. It was from Carly. She attacked M. saying that why can't she just be happy for her rather than critisise her all the time... not that I heard any critisism. Then she wrote something like "It's not me who needs critisising over the way I live my life", which was obviously a dig at me. I asked A&M who it referred to, and they became uncomfortable.

I went to town with M, and we ate at a chip shop called Ramsbottoms or something. It was very pleasent, but the attack from Carly had put a damper on conversation.

I smoked more that night, and it worked, lovely sleep. Did various business letters and so on. Waking early nowadays, and so pleasent. And I really notice how much further the money goes. Tonight, I ?might? just have enough. After that, I don't know, because mother said that this stuff only arrives once a month. So I don't know. Perhaps I should phone Darren or something?

Lovely while it lasted.

Overall, it's a worrying and overwhelming time. So much information to find out. I worked out the finances and I won't have enough for the deposit. I'm nearly five hundred pounds overdrawn on the current account as I received the last statement myself.

And these dreams and obe's are breathing down my neck. How can they twice be as specific as to say December? I'd say it's cruel, except I need to know if there's, a time-frame I need to follow. That sounds harsh. I don't know. So much weighing down right now.

Saturday 30th July 2005

Kettering Road, Northampton, England.

The longer I stay here, the more I worry I'll get my awful accent back.

Did some more work. Because I want to approach the charity ACCESS I made a list of draft list of required information and letter. Another thing, it occoured to me that it would be the tourist board which specifically liscences (or whatever (sp.)) hotels, and so I did a letter to the London office of the Dutch tourist board. No more time to speak now. I'd better get on. The grass is nice though. Runs out tonight, haven't touched a drop since Monday. Actually money left over this week, rather that the overdraft shrinking as is usually the case.

There's a definite way, mind wise, to take marijuana, to make it work medicinally. It takes... knowing. I must write something about this.

Thursday 4th August (just) 2005

Wake Up London, Devonshire Terrace, Paddington, London

Not in the mood of writing

Friday 5th August 2005

Wake Up London, 1 Devonshire Terrace, Paddington, London.

Wasn't in the mood of writing, am a little more now.

Binnie sent these pictures. I'll put the email up later.

I came down here to this new hostel Thursday. It's OKish. Staff are rude. It's clean. No smoking. Yesterday I got a wash done, then outside met this Australian called Brian. We drank in the downstairs bar till about two. I slept in the TV room because there aren't enough keys to the room.

I found a place to sell my share certificate, but they want the same ID I'd need to open a bank account. After all this time, I still never managed to open a bank account, so it looks bad to sell the shares. There's a place to try in Cannongate tomorrow, if they're open, but if they say no... It's mad really, OK, this is all to stop money laundering, but I'm not money laundering. I just wanted a bank account and to sell my shares. If it doesn't work tomorrow, as far as I can work out, I'm stuck with a completely useless share certificate.

Anyway, I'm moving to Kings Cross for two nights tomorrow. I met these friendly Americans in the dorm earlier, but I've just had enough here. It's OK, but that's all. The new place might be worse, but at least it's a change. Like here, a woman just had the vending machine malfunction, and asked the staff to help, but the staff said she's not on duty and to ask at reception, which is just plain rude. Last night I got lost looking for the exit and was shouted at.

LATER... 1:20am. next day

Yep, can't sleep... don't want to.

I phoned Anne earlier, to say of the news. Earlier today, I went over to a seed center to see about marijuana seeds. The guy who dealth with me was really nonchalant. He was so disinterested in me that at one point he actually apologised for his blase attitude, explaining that he has to spend all day there. I understand. It was in Bounds Green, The London Seed Center. I got the feeling that perhaps he was just going to sell me anything because I'm going to grow out of season so it won't work.

I realised after I bought it that A won't really help. It's something that I care about and not her, meaning it's nothing and will be likely thrown away.

I spend so much time thinking about my illness. All the time perhaps. I don't know what I think other than I think too much about it. I went to see Green... something earlier, at Prince Charles Cinema. It was such a great film; really cheered me up. Funny but poignent also. Isn't poignent a word used only by people selling books and films, did you notice that? It's likely why I can't spell the word. Did you ever use the word in relation to a moment in the real world that you had with another human being? No, in the real world, nothing is poignent. Just a marketed world.

I was speaking to Mother in BHS recently; I was talking about all my plans in Holland. she made some comment about it's too hard to do it alone. I should have some partner. I'd been talking generally about Binnie, and had mentioned that he was gay. She said that I should have some partner, then added the tag of either a male or a female, thinking of that possibility. Oh.

It's a strange thing, to get to this age with no idea of one's orientation, no history whatsoever. Does it matter; the lonliness is the same. Maybe that's why I like the idea of hospitality, as a career I mean; there will always be people around me without me ever having to get close to someone.

I think it doesn't matter in my case. I'd just love to be human.

... and as much as I hate to show a human side; it's lonely most of all to never be touched by anyone. I'll be careful saying that, because the last time I wrote that, it got me into a lot of real trouble. But it's not anyone... it's lonely to know no one in the world who knows most of your secrets, wants nothing from you and with whom you can hold each other in the hardest moments, of solitude or imparting a mutual strength through touch.

Monday 8th August 2005

Journeys Hostel, Caledonia Road, Kings Cross, London.

OK, my last night in London this time.

Fucking stupid computer. Stupid, stupid, stupid. In this hostel, the ALT and CTRL keys have been glued down so that they can't be used. So, I just typed all my news, lost it and couldn't press CTRL+Z, and it went.

So, news wise... I just don't feel like typing it again. I'm tiered though. Also, just to keep whining, I have to keep manually typing the paragraph tabs as I can't cut and paste without the mouse... which is just as slow as the keys for me as a touch-typist.

OK, I'll carry on in notepad and transfer it. I might as well as I paid for it.

I kept meeting people in that hostel. I met the three nice Asain men in the room, whom where from California. Then I met a great guy from Australia called Brian. Then one night, my last night, in the bar there were these two women and an older man. The man and a girl left, but I spent about an hour with the other girl. She has been living with her father, her friend did some travelling and she just decided to do the same, and so had left. She was really sweet.

Then I came here to Journeys. I'm on an upper bunk, which is hard, plus the second floor. The staff are friendly, but it's no smoking after 10pm (???????????????????)

'Ad enough though. I can't sell my share certificate without the same ID I need to open a bank account. So it's useless. I just watched a film in Prince Charles, but walked out as I can't help thinking about it. I hate that I wasted so much money on that jacket. It's all money problems now, and guilt.

I've come to the conclusion that I should sign on. Sign on for unemployment benefit. It's bad, true, I'm right back to where I started. They'll ask me what I've done for thirteen years and why I never paid income or wages tax, and why I limp and keep sitting down every five minutes. But what the hell. Nothing to lose.

Friday 12th August 2005

Kettring Road, Northampton, UK

I feel so strange. Worthless. Unreal also.

Dunno.

Don't feel like anything at all. Doing anything I mean. Nothing.

Thursday 24th August 2005

Ashlee House, Grays Inn Road, Kings Cross, London.

Dream (of a few days ago)

I was in a car in this road which exists in the real world. On one side is the place where I went to upper school, on the other, is the place where I went to college. I was in a car with M & A and was dying.

Interpretation

Already received the premonition about M... but maybe I'm going too?......

Why do I find it so much easier to write here than in the 'home' town?

Well, I've come down to this new hostel... but it's a darned rowdy place. This common room is mostly populated with sixteen year old Hungarian schoolgirls offering......

It seems a long time since I was last in London, though not so much has happened.

I got back on the Monday. Mother had scored a whole half ounze... but it was chopped. It has a strong sedating effect, but I feel so strange when I take it.

It's hard to write in this strange place. I've been thinking about the same thing for the last... ten days? I'm not sure if it's just something that comes up because it's time for it to come up... or maybe the bad grass, or maybe it's good grass that helps something to come up because it's time to come up? I don't know (sixteen........)

I haven't signed on. I went to the office, but it's a strange thing, a strange place I mean. It's just full of offices and tables but there's no reception and no one says what to do or who to speak to and you're just left there... like some idiot. I mean, my story is so, unusual, I can't feel confident. I feel, I don't know. I feel that in my hostel, the minimum age will be eighteen.

I'm not sure where the C.A.B. is here. It's in Holburn library... but I only know where to get there from Chancery Lane.

The last time I stayed here, I got trapped for so long. Far too long. But now I'm here again; I can feel it happening again. But, it's so hard to get out now. Since I mentioned my idea to M. to sign on, she's been all for it. Of course she has. I have nothing and I must be a complete drain on her. It's hard. What if the Job Centre send me for a job I can't do due to my hip... or 'other' problem (talking about 'me mind now, me mind).

There's something wrong with M's eye. She get's her vision with ... I don't know. But each time I see her now she tells me about some glasses she smashed or something she knocked over and feels really embarrassed, and mentioned, things. She went for an eye test. You of course know what I'm thinking. YEAH, RIGHT, THERE'S SOMEONE WHO KNOWS!!!!!!!!!!

She was really impressed with the optition; an Asian, but this quack refeered her to a local quack, who referred her to a hospital, so M's waiting for a letter from the hospital telling her when she will go there. That's one of the worst things about quacks isn't it? Not thier arrogance, aggression, pedantisism, adherence to socialism. Oh God, don't get me started. Why do people talk about 'their' doctor? It's strange. You have your 'own' 'doctor'. So they are in charge of everything. In India, you go see someone, they do some mumbo-jumbo, you pay them and get better in spite of them... yet in blighty, you see them, they do whatever they want, get paid regardless, then say that if you don't go back to take more drugs that they read about in the bmj then you'll die because they read it in the magazine and they believed it rather that actually read current scientific studies........

Baaaahhhhhh, stop 'me whining. But, then again, these tricksters do indeed get paid by the state each time they can sucker you into going there.

I wish I'd never come back; I should have kept my original resolve. I might have made it by now. Here, I have nothing. I'm doing my best, but it doesn't look good. OK, I didn't have so much at home, but here, I have nothing.

I got the last of the Nikon pictures put on cd. I'll put them up later, well, another time, more quiet, less wrecked.

I'm really changed. I don't know what happened to me.

Fundementally, I never should have taken that phone call.

Monday 12th September 2005

Kettring Road

Dream

I was in a car going up, up a windy road to the top of a car park. Then I got out half way and had to put a credit card in a lift to get back down. I kept getting the PIN wrong, but eventually started moving.

Interpretation

I left Asia, came back to the mundane, and now have to... I don't know. Get used to having no life or happiness, which is where I started.

"Dream"

Not actually a dream. I woke up but was dozing, and I felt my legs being lifted out of my body. It turned into an out of body experience, and I lifted out completely and was looking down on myself in bed. I thought about where I wanted to go, now that I was free. I wanted to see Junko. I could only ever get to see her once in this way, and it was when she was calling me.

But I thought that now I'm making a lot of progress, spiritually, about being honest about my disease (well, starting to) perhaps I'll be allowed it.

I willed myself to move, and was then shooting throught the air. I ended up flying down a Japanese street, then I SAW HER. She didn't really know I was there, but I was overjoyed and told her I came just to check she was OK. I flew off, in heaven, shouting 'I love you!'.

Interpretation

Thank you.

Sunday 18th September 2005

Kibo, Kettring Road, Northampton, England.

It's not good. I know I haven't written since I was in London. Not so much has happened. My little plants are OK. That's all that is.

I had an idea to start an Internet dating site, so I've done that a little. Everyone is going on at me to sign on the unemployment line, so I've been looking into that. The hostel plan has completely fell through, I mean it's just drifted away. I don't know what to say about it. I can't do it. All the things I'd have to get through, finding somewhere, getting the legalities sorted out, furnishing, accounts. Nope. I can't do that by myself, I don't know why I ever thought that I could.

So I'm nowhere. Right back where I started. I can't stand this country. I hate the people, it's the worst place in the world, but now I'm boxed in and I can't think how to get out. The only thing that comes to mind, now that I've lost everything, is to try and get on the dole, and move down to Gibraltar. It's still UK, but close to Spain.

Saturday 24th September 2005

Kibo, Northampton.

Dream

I met Binnie in a pub and had marijuana with me. He had some that looked like a fern tree but it was much better and did the job.

Interpretation

Sativa would be better for me... mentally.

I saw M. on Tuesday I think. We went to Lloyds but it was really noisy and she didn't like it so much. The thing wrong with her eye is a cataract and she has to have it out sometime. While we were walking there people were shouting to each other, screeching round on skateboards, screaming at their children. We both commented on how people have no respect for each other. M's not long back from France and she said that you really notice the difference when you're away and then come back.

I do have to go or something though. I really can't stand being here. I've just had enough. But if I go on the social, then I'm kind of trapped here and admitting that this is what I am going to do. And, I can't do that.

In Llyods, I said to M. that maybe I should go to London and advertise a drop off and pick up word processing service.

I haven't got the energy to do these things though. I'm here, and I speak to no one.

... Like today. I woke up, walked down town. Came straight to the cybercafe and said "one hour please". Then I went to a pub and ordered food. I'll say thanks when I buy smokes later. And, "OK" to A when I get back tonight.

So, everything I say today is:

That's not a bad day. If I get the smokes at Sainsburys, then theres two less sentences. If I eat lunch from the supermarket, two less more. So some days, I can say as little as three sentences.

Which isn't that bad considering what it's like to speak to most English people.

I can't think of what I want to do. I can't think of doing anything that would make me happy. OK, a night out with J. But, that isn't going to happen. I just don't see any way forward.

Continued with belated photo page...

"There are 100,000 total marijuana smokers in the US, and most are Negroes, Hispanics, Philipino's and Entertainers. Their Satanic music, jazz and swing, result from Marijuana usage. This Marijuana causes white women to seek sexual relations with Negroes, entertainers and any others."

-Harry Anslinger
Commissioner of Narcotics testifying to Congress on why Marijuana should be made illegal in 1937.
(Marijuana Tax Act, signed August 1st, 1937; effective October 1st, 1937)

"It would be unreasonable, arbitrary and capricious for the DEA to continue to stand between those sufferers and the benefits of this substance in light of the evidence in this record. In strict medical terms, Marijuana is far safer than many of the foods we commonly consume... Marijuana in its natural form is one of the safest therapeutically active substances known to man."

-Francis L. Young
Former Administrative Law Judge for the DEA

" I think that marijuana should not only be legal, I think it should be a cottage industry. It would be wonderful for the state of Maine. There's some pretty good homegrown dope. I'm sure it would be even better if you could grow it with fertilizers and have greenhouses. "

Stephen King - Author

"And God said, Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat."

Biblical - Genesis 1:29

�Compared to alcohol, which makes people take more risks on the road, marijuana made drivers slow down and drive more carefully.... Cannabis is good for driving skills, as people tend to overcompensate for a perceived impairment.?

Professor Olaf Drummer, a forensic scientist the Royal College of Surgeons In Melbourne in 1996

"Cannabis is a far less harmful drug than almost all the other drugs that you are likely to mention."

JON OWEN JONES, MP, July 2001 Source: BBC News (UK Web), July 17, 2001

"If alcohol is a tiger, cannabis is merely a mouse"

Rosie Boycott, Independent on Sunday, 28 Sept 1997

"Having reviewed all the material available to us we find ourselves in agreement with the conclusion reached by the Indian Hemp Drugs Commission appointed by the Government of India (1893-94) and the New York Mayor's Committee (1944 - LaGuardia)that the long-term consumption of cannabis in moderate doses has no harmful effects" "the long-asserted dangers of cannabis are exaggerated and that the related law is socially damaging, if not unworkable"

1968 UK ROYAL COMMISSION, THE WOOTTON REPORT:

The Report of the Australian Government 1996 says: "The ... major possible adverse effects of chronic, heavy cannabis use ... remain to be confirmed" "The major health and psychological effects of chronic cannabis use, especially daily use over many years, remain uncertain" "As has been stressed ... there is uncertainty. ......To varying degrees....inferences from animal research, laboratory studies, and clinical observations about probable ill effects. In some cases inferences depend upon arguments from what is known about the adverse effects of other drugs, such as tobacco and alcohol" "... "flashback experiences" ...have been rarely reported by cannabis users...have typically used other hallucinogenic drugs" "The probable and possible adverse health and psychological effects of cannabis need to be placed in comparative perspective to be fully appreciated".

"There are no long lasting ill-effects from the acute use of marijuana and no fatalities have ever been recorded ... there seems to be growing agreement within the medical community, at least, that marijuana does not directly cause criminal behaviour, juvenile delinquency, sexual excitement, or addiction."

Dr J. H. Jaffe, The Pharmacological Basis of Therapeutics. L.Goodman and A Gillman, 3rd edn. 1965.

Cannabis in Costa Rica: A Study of Chronic Marijuana Use Institute of Human Issues: "No significant health consequences to chronic cannabis smokers"

Researchers at the University of California (UCLA) School of Medicine have announced the results of an 8 - year study into the effects of long-term cannabis smoking on the lungs. In Volume 155 of the American Journal of Respiratory and Critical Care Medicine, Dr. D.P. Tashkin reported: "Findings from the present long-term, follow-up study of heavy, habitual marijuanasmokers argue against the concept that continuing heavy use of marijuana is a significant risk factor for the development of [chronic lung disease. ..Neither the continuing nor the intermittent marijuana smokers exhibited any significantly different rates of decline in [lung function] as compared with those individuals who never smoked marijuana. Researchers added: "No differences were noted between even quite heavy marijuana smoking and non-smoking of marijuana."

Proven : Cannabis is a safe medicine by Ian Williams Goddard
CANNABIS DOES NOT CAUSE CANCER
BOSTON, Jan. 30, 1997 (UPI) - The U.S. federal government has failed to make public its own 1994 study that undercuts its position that marijuana is carcinogenic - a $2 million study by the National Toxicology Program. The program's deputy director, John Bucher, says the study "found absolutely no evidence of cancer." In fact, animals that received THC had fewer cancers. Bucher denies his agency had been pressured to shelve the report, saying the delay in making it public was due to a personnel shortage.

The Boston Globe reported Thursday (1-30-97) that the study indicates not only that the main ingredient in marijuana, THC, does not cause cancer, but also that it may even protect against malignancies, laboratory tests on animals show.

The report comes on the heels of an editorial in the prestigious New England Journal of Medicine that favors the controlled medical use of marijuana, and calls current federal policy "misguided, heavy-handed and inhumane." The Clinton administration has said that doctors prescribing marijuana could be prosecuted for a federal crime.

Marijuana has been reported to ease the pain, nausea and vomiting in advanced stages of cancer, AIDS and other serious illnesses, but the federal government claims other treatments have been deemed safer than what it calls "a psychoactive, burning carcinogen."

However, The Boston Globe says the government's claim appears to be undercut by its own $2 million study.

PSYCHOSIS
"Cannabis use was not associated with any particular ethnic group or with the onset of psychosis." "Incidence of psychotic illness in London: comparison of ethnic groups, M King, E Coker, G Leavey, A Hoare, E Johnson-Sabine, University Department of Psychiatry, Royal Free Hospital School of Medicine, London NW3 2QG Department of Psychiatry, St Ann's Hospital, London N15 3TH Correspondence to: Dr King.

ADDICTION /DEPENDENCY
The Shafer Commission of 1970 Marijuana does not lead to physical dependency, although some evidence Indicates that the heavy, long-term users may develop a psychological dependence on the drug" Canada: In 1997, (R. v Clay), Ontario Justice John McCart ruled, "Cannabis is not an addictive substance; does not cause a motivational syndrome; and health related costs of cannabis use are negligible when compared to the costs attributable to tobacco and alcohol consumption." His findings were confirmed by B.C. Justice F.E. Howard in a similar case in 1998.

GATEWAY THEORY
The LaGardia sub-committee of New York 1944 "The use of marijuana does not lead to morphine or heroin or cocaine addiction and no effort is made to create a market for these narcotics by stimulating the practice of marijuana smoking"

My own aside... if you took all the people addicted to hard drugs, find out which had previously smoked, it, I think, would be less than people who previously drank... but why isn't alcohol considered gateway?

DOES CANNABIS LEAD TO TAKING OTHER DRUGS?
From DrugScope has been created through the merger of the UK's foremost Drug information and policy organisations: the Institute for the Study of Drug Dependence (ISDD) and the Standing Conference on Drug Abuse (SCODA) - two charities with a total of sixty years in the national and internationaldrugs field. "This is the so-called 'escalation' hypothesis. In the mid-80s research from the US revived interest in this idea. It was claimed that cannabis use tends to lead to heroin use, but the arguments are similar for progression to illicit drugs other than heroin.

"Most people who use heroin will have previously used cannabis (surveys suggest that cannabis users have only used cannabis and the vast majority have never used heroin). This could be because cannabis actually does (at least for some people) lead to heroin use, but there are alternative explanations. "For instance, it could be that heroin and cannabis use are both caused by something else in the individual's personality or background that the researchers have not taken into account. Also the studies suggesting cannabis might lead to heroin have been done in Western societies at a time when cannabis is more freely available than heroin. This could mean people tend to use cannabis first simply because they come across it first.

"Even if cannabis use did lead to heroin use, there would remain the crucial issue of exactly how this happened. The assumption is that if cannabis leads to heroin, then more cannabis use would result in more heroin use - an argument against legalising cannabis. But the reverse could be the case. For instance, it could be that cannabis use involves people in the buying of illegal drugs, making it more likely that they will meet with an offer of heroin, an offer which some will accept. In this example it would be the illegality of cannabis use rather than cannabis use itself that led most directly to heroin use. The implication is that some heroin use might be prevented by legalising cannabis, even if this meant more widespread cannabis use. This example illustrates the fact that the mechanism of any link between cannabis and heroin may be as important as whether or not such a link exists in the first place. All that can be said definitely is that

a.. 1.Cannabis use generally precedes the use of other illegal drugs.
b.. 2.Cannabis use does not necessarily (or even usually) lead to the use of other illicit drugs. "The unsatisfactory state of affairs with respect to the escalation theory is typical of our knowledge about other ill-effects sometimes said to be caused by cannabis. There is evidence suggesting a number of undesirable consequences of regular use (mental illness, poor motivation, decreased fertility, impaired development in adolescents) but no evidence to either convincingly refute or confirm these suggestions. The illegality of cannabis and the fact that most cannabis users do not approach treatment services makes detailed follow-up studies of cannabis users difficult, and laboratory studies cannot duplicate real life situations. Certainly, widespread cannabis use in the UK and other countries has not been accompanied by correspondingly widespread demand for medical, psychological or social help with cannabis-related problems - suggesting that cannabis users do not have or do not think they have a problem. But it will never be possible to prove that such problems might not Materialize in the future or be found if research techniques improved. "

"One of the best effects Marijuana can have in any terminal illness is to produce a degree of euphoria which boosts morale in a depressing situation"

Dr. Anthony Henman

"Marijuana is one of the least toxic substances in the whole pharmacopoeia"

Professor Lester Grinspoon, Harvard Medical School, USA

''Over the past two decades in Australia we have devoted increased resources to drug law enforcement, we have increased the penalties for drug trafficking, and we have accepted increasing inroads on our civil liberties as part of the battle to curb the drug trade. All the evidence shows, however, not only that our law enforcement agencies have not succeeded in preventing the supply of illicit drugs to Australian markets, but that it is unrealistic to expect them to do so. If the present policy of prohibition is not working, then it is time to Give serious consideration to the alternatives, however radical they may seem.'' Source: Joint Committee on the National Crime Authority, 1988

Albert Einstein:

"The prestige of government has undoubtedly been lowered considerably by the prohibition law. For nothing is more destructive of respect for the government and the law of the land than passing laws which cannot be enforced. It is an open secret that the dangerous increase of crime in this country is closelyconnected with this." :My First Impression of the U.S.A., 1921

"Cannabis never killed anybody and it's use is widespread. You can"t stop it. The law defeats itself because all the efforts to stop drugs coming in only drives up the prices and then gangsters move in to push the drugs. If they legalised there wouldn't be gangsters and huge profits...The police are gradually decriminalising the possession of cannabis because they realise there's not much point prosecuting"

Judge James Pickles, UK

"I'd like to see the government back a programme of research into the medical properties of cannabis and I do not object to its responsible use as a recreational relaxant."

Sir Richard Branson, Independent on Sunday, 28th September 1997: