Words of the DAy-walked upon, trampled upon, sullied!

walked upon

DEMENTIA AN EVER GROWING ENEMY

Dementia is a creeping, invasive, enemy. Unknown at the beginning when it can take hold of us, when it will strike, secretively invading, plotting the destruction of our most valuable paragons until it reaches its target, the consequences as one can imagine are devastating.  It takes from us the precious things we hold so dear, our skills and our abilities to recognize our society we live in, ultimate our way of interacting with what is familiar, our anchors to help us to deal and interact with the world around us.  Can you imagine a place without Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, St Paul’s Cathedral, the Tower of London, Iconic memorials, local services, local landmarks, just as those things are being removed from our minds, there in and within, we simply become lost, afraid and disillusioned.  All that we know and love, our experiences, all that holds us together, our memories to who and what we have become, slowly gets eaten away. Becoming a faded, an illusive intangible substance, that we can’t quite put a finger on, what was that thing called again (a Kettle), what was her name again (a daughters'), who are you again (a son). Its like a war, our historical constructs, our iconic treasures being blown away, left to dust, never to be seen or remembered by us again, a voice crying struggling to be heard in the dark, "Where am I?" eventually "Who am I and what have I become". And this disease becomes stronger driven by our fears, anxiety, paranoia, and stress of how to deal with such an intangibility, we consequently end up losing the strength to understand, and watch ourselves fade away into a wilderness of the unknown. Our nearest, our dearest, our most treasured, our heart felt and loved ones are always the ones who are first to suffer, the veterans struggling in the dark.

Hallowed Eve II “The Tombstone Man”

Film Review Contagion

Contagion; where does one start?  Don't go would be one suggestion, because I wish that someone had given me that advice before I went.  Words like dull, boring, slow, been done before, just happened to have been done alot better, an awful lot better.  Certain books come to mind but that would be divergence.

Seriously guys you would think that with such an acting cast they would come up with something much better, as the approach of the film was so slow it just dragged you along and everything else that came with it.

The acting and the stars in it are carrying out their duty to a certain extent and you do get a sense of that, but the story and how it is told, ye need to start over and do it all again.  You may ask what is missing? Dramatic impact would be one, movement, emotional appeal, sensitivity and the whole tragedy behind the story line, I do emphasise the word tragedy as it is deeply missing especially when in trying to get that concept across to an audience.

The marketing people behind this film should be shot.  To establish a fictitious trailer goes beyond all. Selling something for what it is not, I would seriously considering suing.  Yes it is that bad especially when it is hyped to be something that it is not!  Deeply disappointing, and for £8, rip off!

3 out of 10 and they are lucky with that.

Gaddafi Warplanes, Oil & Gold,

POEM: Loving Myself, Being Intimate with Me.

Defence; An automated response.

Soft peaked black fedora hat, leans in shadow, a P. that shades the I., 

sheep slaughtered meat, coming back to haunt you,

the peerage, the medal, the need for notoriety and consequential prosperity. 

In dim corner light, that investigative glint it peers through masks of lies

 ... standing for accountability, political responsibility,

standards to bear on sole and high, it’s just manoeuvrability 

the shades of truth aren’t always black or white!

The banks have got our Backs, Oops forgot

our backs are backing the Bankers.  Jeez! ...guys 

Who’s paying?  Or been paid to query – Is it not payback time?

Where’s the loyalty, the trust – for years its economical austerity.

Backhanders, back-benchers, back-ground growling dogs,

fat Cats smoking Havana cigars, another tinkle-clink of a champagne glass,

at least we are in profit with net yielding growth potential, 

are we not protecting our credentials?

Knights of a round or is it oval cabinet table?

As Camelot again is called upon ...rally and round up the hounds,

all in defence of a sly crafty Mister Fox, with Witty guru interventions for Porn Stars!

TRAVEL BLOG - The Lake District, Mount Helvellyn (the apex of the Eastern Fells) & Windermere

Travelling is just one of those things I love to do. The travel experience falls into simple categories for me, the ones which predominately I try to keep an open mind towards.  

Categories like the surrounding area and facilities, impacting scenery, food it's quality & local passions depending what's on offer and the engaging places that are worshipped, accommodation options if I stay over, price impact, and the climatic atmosphere.  

A trip or a vacation has its impacts small to start, and then as it develops, the experience takes over, giving one a general culminating sense of reward sediment, leaving one with memories both high and low.

So for my first travel blog, the one to kick it all off, I have chosen to write about my Lakeland's experience, in the Lake district of the North West of England. This by the way was my first time entering into this vista of which I was informed is a very "special" place indeed. 

Which is in fact a dangerous statement for me to accept especially if cast in my direction. It automatically ups my expectation levels, and therefore I am actively on the look out for impressions of how this place effects me, what it is truly like and since my friend finds it to be very special then what is that special piece that I would appropriate from this place, myself! 

The Lake District, driving, the options are easy and coming off the main northern bound motorways M61 or M6 from Manchester direction, Sat-Nav predominately controlling the way, and in so doing it is fairly straight forward to be honest to arrive into Cumbria. 

After coming off the main motorways, we drove into developing tempestuous valleys, lifting up into higher rising hills to start and in the distance mountain tops.  Below however at eye level and it's surrounding area's we found ourselves moving constantly towards still sandy reed lakes, crescent-lined and wrapped by windy roadways and pathways, old round stone walls giving the vista a general sense of older times which I must admit I love. 

That possibility of an older world of times gone by, really sets me up for simply the unexpected, which keeps me, if I am truthful on edge, watching for the unexpected, the strange, the unusual, ancient influences, you know the likes, when you turn an unusual corner, a sight can open up right in front of your eyes, such an unexpected delight! 

And that is exactly what happened, wonderfully which gets me all tingly inside, with anticipations building, for we were on our way for six hour mountain walk... 

My expectations generally were in the mountains, as the day was setting itself up to be a beaut! With clear blue skies and sunshine, lotion out, nose peeler just in case. 

On turning, a downhill steeply corner, it was there right in front of us, Windermere, even the name gave me goosebumps and set me riveting back especially when you stretch out the word Win-der-mere. The name of course for me suggests Camelot, the round table, heroic knights, and even the sense of magic caught my imagination with a pure pre-raphaelite induction and feel. 

The areas that surround this name sake is transcending, for example small round towered land lying buildings, low lying cottages, surrounding Windermere with its state lakes that run into mountains. 

A set in time, it's surrounding beauty is breath taking, so I made a serious mental note of it not that you could forget, to make sure we would stop there on our way back! Just to see what delights this hamlet and surrounding town lake lands would hold. Further on we went into the depts of the mountains, moving further into its silence, peaceful natural aspiration, moving further away from its spiraling roads, into a place of untempered national beauty.  

Moving closer to it's heights, we parked around the base line of Helvellyn (such an ancient name, pictured below) and in climbing it, reaching spectacular views, massive openness you just want to keep stretching yourself out to more peaked tops of exploration, with that complete sense of open top freedom you can only find on mountains and pitted crevice walks. 

With round-stone and slate huts, precipices, that jigger me with unexpected heights, all made the experience worthwhile. In reaching our Hellvelyn (the apex of the Eastern fells) three hour trail, we settled down to enjoy a packed lunch all home made of pasta delights, and watched a vibrancy of fellow walking enthusiasts young and old, as them, enjoying the stellar views that encapsulated us all. 

From there we trampled onto Dolly Wagon Pike, and Nethermost Pike, across lined stones paths, grass reed walks, rolling green verges, and cool stone edged deep lake pockets, that warrants jumping in whole (a naked concept) to return to being cooler, breezing the heat quenching stillness. 

Our mountain stroll, finished by waterfalls, of capturing fallen colours, and as we descended back to base camp. We were still in-awed by potential future climbs, that would definitely push endurance to new limits. Jovially deciding which new routes to take, new mountains to climb, and what new hellish names to put on those potential grueling ascents, not for the faint hearted in certain parts but safe. This is what I loved about this place, the need to come back, the magnetic pull of the place to delve further into it's unknowns and play Attenborough. 

Exhausted and now phenomenally hungry, we headed back to the parked car which was paid for, parking ticket that is, to uphold the preserve of the natural resort we had spent our time in.  A great concept I think. Local money for local things.

As cool breezes descended from the Mountains like ourselves, we ventured back towards Windermere.  Found the local village quite quickly. This is where expectations can let one down, I was so in-awed by the natural beauty of the place, I must admit I was expecting the village to transcend that voluptuous essence we had travelled into. Don't get me wrong it is picturesque, but unfortunately I was expecting something more! Onwards we went, food being our central focus, and began to look around.  

I must say on first impressions it did not have much to offer, general pizza and pasta predominated, I was looking for something, local, Mrs Beaton styled grub, but unfortunately nothing seemed to exist.  After passing a number of potential, not exactly warranting venues, we settled for the inner village cafe, sitting on a traffic island so to speak, set with outside tables to enjoy the evening heat.  We took the dive, hunger being a fore runner, we settled inside.  

And from there my wonderful day took full fruit, with plates of garlic buttered langoustines, crab claws, tepid warm crusted bread, juicy olives, slices of local and italian meats, sun-ripened tomatoes, freshly made juices, we gorged ourselves, relaxed and under no pressure with desserts and coffee's to follow, I believe my day came promptly to an fabulous end.  The only down-hearted event was the travel back, to collapse solemnly into bed. The bill came to £35 for two, could not have asked for anything more.

 I will be back.......

This is only one of many articles that I have written about the Lake District and other areas of interest in England.  If you would like to receive more information about these articles and places of interest please leave a comment and I will get information to you as soon as possible.

Thanks for Reading, I have really enjoyed sharing this.

BOOK: "Aodh" The Hathor Prophecy

POEM: smile for me, inside

POEM: Celtic Halloween Haunting

POEM: This Allowance Gifts - Dreamers Dream

POEM: Water Beads

POEM: Feel Zen, feel me....

CHILDREN'S BOOK: Millie's World

POEM: The Cottoned Light, Self Gravity!

POEM: HOLD ON!

POEM: RIGHT

PSYCHOLOGICAL INSIGHT: My Experiences of Synchronicity; Defining Carl G. Jung

This is where so many times and even too often Synchronicity (sometimes without being aware of it initially but afterwards) comes alive for me, even though it has happened so many times it still gives me the jitters each new time it occurs, again and again!

By jitters I mean heart touching; shocked by the discover; surprised in an eerie way; nerves running, firing but not sure where; yet still acknowledging the fact that I know it has been happening or is going to happen! That conscious/unconscious find!

Strangely when it happens I spend me, myself and I; trying to get my head around it, each time, it slinks away from my grasp, illusively.  For thought is such an illusive thing!!

As Synchronicity is so close to the my heart, the feeling of the power associated to it is scary in an unknowingly odd but yet frighteningly familiar way.  The scary part is not fearful in itself but feels more like a sense of acknowledgement in the journey of the possibilities towards discovering it, as it is a formidable power as Jung and others have conjectured on many occasions.

The intuition, feeling, acceptance that something so massively connected to everyone is so powerfully alive and strong as the breath we breathe, makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand erect.  By being in-tune to it or maybe by it being in-tune to us, sets fire to my philosophical investigations, especially in the experience of touching and finding it.
Consequently these intuitional notions, feelings and ideals of conceptualizations can float through our minds at a phenomenal rate, for the vast opportunity of time, we don't even pay it service when it happens, but when we do, and it is occasional, then ureka! The unconscious/conscious find!

Such an instant again happened to me today.  Synchronicity.  A colleague from work was entering into work, I knew instantly on her coming through the main building front door that she had changed her look, I don't mean a little part of it, but she had gone from the complete blond soft tone image, to nearly the exact opposite of the dark brunette!  Whether it was her own vibe, her nervousness at the anticipation of the reaction of others to her new look, I just simple picked up on it, the thought entered directly into my head and I knew it to be fact. I did question the validity of it in my own mind, but the notion was so strong I just ignored that the concept that it could not be anything else but true. I believe I had picked up on it as soon as she opened the main office building door considering I did not see her for a clear 2 to 3 minutes later, but acknowledged the door as it opened, as I had heard it.  But I just knew that she had a new hairstyle, the colour had been changed and it gave her a complete different look, I was being forced to acknowledge it by myself even though there were niggling doubts which were overshadowed by the urge to know what had been presented to me was true.  Discovering her, I stated "Ah knew you had your image changed she just stared at me mystified!

If you have had any similar experiences please record them in the comment box below, it would be seriously appreciated.  Thank you in advance.  Synchronicity Primed.

PERSONAL INSIGHT: Personally Being - Socially Accepting

MEDICAL DECLINE: Dementia - Alzheimers Disease

Psychological Insight

I have been amazed over the last number of weeks how I have discovered to a level of near insight, how many suffers of Dementia in that I mean Alzheimer's Disease, experience deep levels of an anxiety dominated by fears.
Fearfullness of fear itself I think, an extraordinary misplacement of paranoia that borders on levels of extreme distress and panic.  Panic attacks and anxiety attacks come immediately to mind.  Totally lost to reality.  These fears arrest the sufferer so that they can not experience anything else.  It dominates their mind, their most inner thoughts, strips bare their self-confidence, their manner and way of dealing with everyday life, basic tasks become forgotten, to be replaced by an anxiety of unknown proportions, that consumes them.
For they are consumed by their own fears and lose their souled being to this mania.

We need to urgently look at these conditions that are driving one of the fastest growing diseases in the world.......

POEM: AMy SuperSTAR

POEM: That Real BLUE beach lined sky tonight drifting

POEM: "The Fold"