cold, wet, gravel, ice… and light new hoops.

sleepy as hell this morning after a big day on the bike in the hills in the sun yesterday. at this time last year i was riding my gravel bike in the some cold scottish forest in prep for a trip to gran canaria. and i was riding some new wheels.

earlier trip this year so yesterday i was lost on the road bike on a gravel track lost alone in lanzarote having a meltdown and shouting expletives.

an unexpected trip with treasured brethren / of which diane was not informed

late post today, i did a big bike ride with my pals here in lanzarote. i went off ahead by myself and got lost. had to cut across a gravel path. i was shouting fuck fuck fuck etc. saw an egret.

this line refers to a visit of my friends m. l. and s. l., who are brothers. and i didn’t tell my barber. i suppose ultimately she had no right to know. the image below is intented to evoque memories of diane from twin peaks. rip david lynch.

hmm? a doubtful interjection. beginning my each phrase

i have a few noises i suppose. i must have been hmming a lot in early february. sadly i left last year’s diary at home this week. but noises come and go. i pick them up from odd places. echolalia from the television and jip like this.

a sort of deep throat sigh that i can’t explain verbally. a sympathetic groan. a palette cleanser – due to my autism, i struggle to speak if i haven’t anticipated the situation. words honk out wrongly. a long hmm gives me a little time to process maybe.

and in this case its a non-answer to the question from the previous line. i’m saying hmm but the image is of the aegean water i surely will drink.

and if hercules in chains is free to believe in himself

i’m exhausted. in lanzarote. up at 5am. was meant to be up at 4. anyway, here now, dehydrated. unpacked. about to build up the bike. then a shower and an early night i think.

this line builds on the if from the opening line, which itself was a reference to kipling, and is intended as a mashed reference to the greek god hercules, the philosopy of rousseau (man is born free, everywhere else he is in chains) and descartes (cogito sum, i think therefore i am). i guess the idea is that the societal structure we live under necessarily limits the scope of our imaginations, and nothing can overcome that.

if all bald men are solar powered sex machines

i remember an old school friend, a.r., describing our music teacher, mr h., as a ‘solar powered sex machine’ when we were about 14. thanks, a.r., i am still laughing. maybe that makes me very immature. mr h. thought ratm were pro capitalism ?! wasn’t a regular smoker but got through 40 on a night out.

this is a spectacularly bad screen grab. but i’m running with it as i have a busy day. going on a bike holiday tomorrow. exhausted. need to pack.