now i understand it, that dream, it was me obviously, you were me. my anima. you always were really beautiful, can i write that without being vain, ha! 
it's so obvious now but it's taken a few days for the clarity to come. i must be struggling with hope and despair deep down, i know i am, i do. experience has made me cynical, the antithesis of how i once felt.
the world is sorrow, it's impossible not to feel the onslaught of suffering, the more you know the more you hurt which is why escape takes it's forms, painkiller!
drugs, books, sex, fantasy, suicides, all end the pain.
i understand how compassion works, not just why it's important but why it's easy to be compassionate to almost everyone else except yourself. am i just getting older. will i be an angry old man, can i escape that? got to let it go mission, even that is just an idea your crazy old subconscious threw at you outta the blue but man did it shake me. and why are you my anima?

it was the future, bright beautiful sunny morning, cloudless and soft, curves in the air, no harsh shadows, these were glorious days, i had a spring in my step, bouncing along the street making my way through the gardens up the path to the hospital gate. 
big trees cast big shadows, some people sat in their shade, drinking coffee, laughing and chatting with visitors. i was on my way to see you, i think this must be where you worked, art therapists or some sort of sexy art nurse, loved by everyone, darling of the doctors and surgeons, with their elegant style and material sheen, confident auras and ultra white teeth, clinical people would have found you an anomaly, people just stood next to you for the healing to begin. you've always been spirit to me. 
i watched it all from some peripheral, maybe it was vivid in the recal, maybe it all had that lucid dream vibration. I don't know because i was dreaming. all i know was that i was deliriously happy, the lightness in me as i floated up those steps into the side doors where they all waited for me.
some man grabbed me, his arms swung around me pulling me away, work colleagues of yours betrayed their secrets, their concern spilled out through clenched teeth and fierce agonised eyes, but i was slow in my dream, not sure if they were concerned for me or someone else, they pulled me into a small room. leather seats, that worn green fade, dark woods, dark musty corners, like an experienced psychiatrists office. i could see a few volumes but couldn't make out the names. the light was soft, coming from a lamp. 
'something's happened mission.'
'i'm just on my way to meet...'
and then they told me, the words came out like physical things, bricks heavy and weighty, bubbles soft and light, like synaesthesia my sensory organs were cross wired, i could hear black hammering down my heart, my brain taking it all in, it was to much.
i woke up in total fear. 
my dream life often intervenes but this was awful, i was shaking and sweating cold fear, i just wanted to see you again absent friend. i just wanted to hold you and tell you whatever it is going down you can talk to me, you can tell me anything any time, it's safe, i'm your friend, albeit terrible as i have not written or rung in years. 
but in my dream it was to late. 
something bad overshadowed you, it came out off nowhere and took you from me, some weird destructive energy inside your head stole you away and i didn't even see it coming. 
i think i even felt guilty, just fucking guilty. that's why i sent you a text outta the blue, i couldn't bare the thought of a world without you, it's inexplicable enough. 
now i look back on that dream and it was the perfect day, walking to you, all that expectation, all that joy and then as soon as i walked through the doorway, gone. the nighmare.
guilty because in my dream i was deliriously happy but you must have been feeling something darker than i could fathom. no one knew, it was a shock for everyone. 
the end of the dream was fading and my concious mind interfering but i think you failed in your attempt, apparently it was violent and savage, you were on life support and i remember walking up to a window and hearing the 'beep beep' of the machinery, i couldn't walk in there cos i figured it was your call so i stood there as my other life leaked in.
i wandered around in the morning, i was outta whack, i had to sit down and collect my thoughts, nothing seemed important. nothing was, i wanted to just run towards you and hug you but i just sat there, i think i cried, fuck, i don't know, it shook me.
when i got a text reply from you i kinda wanted to call you immediately but i'm probably just an old man now, sitting in my sun room watching the birds in the garden. i'm not the person you knew all those years ago, i'm not the person in the dream, i'm not skipping through the sunlight with joy in my heart on the way to see my wife. i'm just captain mission, a man.      

clive palmer just proved a point i have been writing about for years, he played the left wing media like a maestro, lulling them with his anti abbott persona, wooing them with his outrageous statements against the liberal party, courting abc hosts and audience until they heard with their eyes at the al gore debacle press conference where he pulled the plug on the carbon tax, the ets and let the clean energy act slip through. he had al gore take the hit, basically endorsing liberal policy, he had the sydney morning herald, the abc and the guardian all applauding him for his anti abbott stance and then two days later they begun to wake up to the reality of the facts.
the greens, labour and their apologists had no idea of what happened, they were under his glamour and here in lies the problem with theses journalists and so called tv commentators of the left. they do not know how to be journalist's or political commentator's they have been brainwashed. they have an ideology that they push even when it's proven to be a lie, and they all swallowed up palmers play because they hate abbott so much, the truth didn't count in the story.
palmer is a selfish oaf, but he is smart and he just won the game of thrones, giving the liberals exactly what they wanted. the clean energy commission will placate the greens and labour but the facts remain, palmer played them for a pack of fools.

it really is a thin line isn't it?
between hope and despair, there lies lifetime's, the oldest story you can find, the battle between light and dark, played out from the beginning, played out right now, every decent spiritual truth nails it, every spiritual path leads to it. it's in space, look at the stars, there are more now than there was in the beginning.
does that mean the light is winning, i don't know. it means there are stars in the darkness, some shine bright, some dimmer, some are long dead and gone, but some just get born. every man is a star, ever man can be a star, a sun or a black hole out there, sucking up light. one day i will look up and see light everywhere. 
that's the prime directive, forget everything else, it's just your fiction, just your drama. the war between light and dark is a thin thin line, sometimes you may find yourself undercover, and as the mighty tao teaches all light beings have a little darkness within, all darkness contains light and the riddle like the inscrutable chinese equation, is that hope or despair?
jesus forgave his enemies, imagine that as a teaching and apply it. buddha let it go, apply it to your own belief and need to be right. krishna teaches how all is illusion only the internal battle matters. are you winning?
then there is hope.

i mentioned in an earlier post i was involved in a legal case with a client i support, the beneficiary of a large sum of money. the family are squabbling over the cash and i got sucked in by my employer. but as i followed my brief, my boss didn't, she became envious and bitter that i was involved and she wasn't so she decided to feed the other side information, resulting in a massive legal breach and putting me and my client at huge risk.
she should have been removed but i guess they need to investigate further and decide what they want to do. it's bizarre that this situation developed, she only has herself to blame but the atmosphere i work in is hostile and volatile, lot's of stress.
this sort of stuff happens a lot, i'm envied by peers and bosses because i get on well with the clients and they like me. i was moved from one place i worked because i got on TO well with the clients and parents. the dept i work in is littered with personalities who are dysfunctional bullies. this seems to be the case all over australian society and i have said many times the economy would improve if managers actually knew how to manage rather than bully.
imagine that!

shot by both sides- magazine

no government on earth has it's own peoples interests at heart. governments have been corrupted by globalists agendas and the new world order and within a few years we will begin to see the technocrats dream of the cashless society emerge. then the linkage of credit to carbon, and then the surveillance of every single individual on earth. the grids are there already, of course this is sold to us in words that are digestible, 'sustainable, environmental, progressive and inclusive,' cos we all know language is a virus. these technocrats have it sewn up, the mass flux of ammunitions, just look at the shootings in sydney in the last few years, racial tensions escalate, fear propagated until the civilian requests more control for it's safety. and there you have it!
'but you asked us for it,' president joe says, 'you asked and i gave.'
the really scary truth is most good people will bring this upon themselves thinking they are doing the right noble thing, i mean who don't want to save the environment or not be a racist? 
the problem is information is manipulation, everyone has an agenda. the goodies are the baddies the baddies are the goodies and they make you chose a side.
that's the real problem.
anyway it's coming no matter what side you chose....

luke haines- lou reed

my doctor says my health is excellent, he says the results all indicate i am in good condition but wants me to have further tests as being an old man now i am prone to certain weaknesses. i agree that it is possibly within my interest to continue with the medical model but warn him i will not take pharmaceuticals unless i'm in terrible pain. my stoicism makes him laugh.
'why?'
i tell him about how arthritis medication assists bald people grow hair but seems to have no effect on the arthritis.
this is a recent example.
i tell him how all the skool shooters in the usa were on anti psychotic medication. 
it's weird as i normally don't advocate my own world view upon others unless its face book and there you can determine my attitude by what i don't post over as well as my posts. i don't like to spread fear and division, but at the same time can't ignore it completely. the natural response to the human condition is depression, i think we should acknowledge this, if you are in anyway sensitive or aware you will shed tears. but this in most cases seems to be treated with anti depressants, and i think this is wrong in principle.
it can be summed up by the antithesis in the statement, ignorance is bliss. for the truth is ignorance is ignorance, bliss is bliss. bliss must be worked for, it is discipline and mental yoga, it is impermanent. ignorance can share these qualities but tends to hang around a lot longer and kept under suppression by medication, consumerism, religious and political indoctrinations and various memes that drive us away from liberation, keep us trapped within the maya. 
i think there is a place for pharmaceuticals but it's far to powerful an industry, far to over used and far to insidious in it's unnatural nature. the whole industry seems to be based around stopping spiritual emergence more that stopping pain. if that's just a side effect i'm uncertain but it is a definite resulting condition.
i wonder if those buddhist monks get depressed?
      

  

human has been, failing at an unpredictable velocity, cutting tree and burning up the atmosphere, building stupid things, chasing dumb ideals, megalithic structures that have no intrinsic values, believing in all the wrong things, our dytopian future at the hands of the unimaginative control freaks who's vision is blurred by power games.

watching the warring factions hack each other to bits, watching the children being used as weapons in their war, watching some dumb stupid desert people squabble over imaginary lines in sand, kings and gods, watching the inevitable rise of stupidity.

the west has never understood the east, it's always made the same mistake, backing the wrong team, cultural relativity, dividing to conquer. the enemy of my enemy is my friend would work if the enemies enemy was your friend as well but even after 4000 years there are no friends, it's every man for himself. that's the law of mankind, survival through independence, default nature no matter what we aspire to. 

there must be a better way to live?

those cats in the amazon, hunting and hanging out in trees, drinking vine, watching the light and spaces between, star gazing friends, those cats know how to live better, safety in small numbers. 

their enemy is time, as it eats their home and strips away the nature. our enemy is stupidity, but alas, stupidity is everywhere, it drools off university lecturers and graduates, it falls from the tongues of commentators and experts, it's given away in fast food restaurants like plastic toys that get stuck in the throat of young children, it's emanating from tv, it's falling from the skies, it's hammered out in blogs, it's thrashed in chords and major sevenths, it's washed up on plastic beach islands, it's rotting brains, minds, imagination, hearts and spirits. we had the bronze age, we had the iron age, we had the space age, we had the technological age..and now we are smack bang in the middle of the stupid age! 

it's strange how things can effect me, take for example lloyd cole whom i really liked when he was a rattlesnake, i liked his literary references and saw them play heaps of times in london, berlin and various other cities. however when i came to australia it was a long time between gigs and i grew bored with most of his output as a solo musician. but then one day i saw he was playing the basement so i bought a ticket.
now in my early days in sydney i was a regular at the basement, love the venue yet this night when i drive from avalon to the city and parked and queued up for lloyd, the people at the door refused to let me in. they gave no reason just said they wanted the clientele to be of quality and i was not suited.
'but i have a ticket.'
'well if you read the small print it says we can refuse entry.'
'who the fuck reads small print when they buy a ticket.'
'if you don't leave we will call the police.'
'i want a refund.'
'no!'
needless to say i demanded a refund and eventually they gave me one.
i never returned to the basement and never will. i never played a fucking lloyd cole cd ever again, and can't stand him when he dissed the church apparently. so there you go, my loyalty has a boundary.
later i discovered the basement had been taken over by new management, they seemed to want an aryan clientele or some uber cool type of zombie which is ironic seeing as it's a jazz club and jazz kinda has black roots. 
you know what was amazing about this, i was in a huge crowd of trendy inner city fuckwits who never even bothered to defend or protest at the management at my treatment, whereas i make a point of intervention when it comes to this sort of injustice.
anyway, the basement can go fuck itself, and so can lloyd cole.

vast ego distorts as expanded compassion, he gazed at events beyond his sphere of influence, he cried and sobbed, his wrath and anger, his words label and define in ways only he understands yet hopes to influence herd mind.
this is the man who walks the righteous path, above all self enquiry. casting aspersion and blame, fault and expostulation. this is the man whom leads his fellow man down division, oh man love thy enemy, love him when you kill him, for they are dead already. love him when he kills you for they are dead already. love is the law, love is letting go.
i drive to buddha with my new friend phenix, she tells me about her project and it agrees with my strange ambiguous nature, we talk about the old days in newtown, we talk about the world of dating, what a crazy experience this has been for me, we talk about all things on the verge of all things, devotion and listening. my car needs a service, it makes uneasy noises and feels sluggish and listless, my body hacks up some strange chest pain, sharp shooting severe side spasm takes me to emergency status, they send me to get an ecg, they suck my blood, they x ray me. 
i hate all this shit but it has to be done, my life feels ancient already, yet i feel i were born yesterday. it's strange to be waiting for death, have i had a stroke, a heart attack, some sort of weird psychosomatic affliction. i breath the pain away, i look for the raven, there he is in front of me. am i at peace? yes, i am at peace. is this my time, no! old man you have many years left but let me remind you all things must pass, and your flesh is in decline, your bones haunt you, your organs pound onwards in steady resolution that the ghost in the machine drives them into tomorrow, and when old captain missions number is up, its up so let it go.... 

following annihilation comes authority, the second in the 'southern reach trilogy by jeff vandermeer, not quite annihilation 2 as this novel takes place within the agency responsible for sending expeditions into area x over the last 30 years. what we find in this strange sequel is what happens to an organisation that has failed after decades of attempts to investigate an inexplicable  anomaly that seems to have no interest in communication whatsoever. have they been effected by area x already?
i got off to a difficult start on this one but after a while realised that the writer was not going to explore the same territory as the first book, here he looks much wider at the implications of how the southern reach ('authority') works in an kafkaesque and orwellian way. 
this is an excellent book, it challenges the reader profoundly and although there is a slow pace to the writing it appears to reflect the surreal creepy alienation that occurs within the story. it's the best horror novel / sci fi novel i have read for years and it's quite original and well executed. this guy will become huge i think because he is literate and very clever. makes total sense why the church would want to write with him.  

the elemental creatures, they huant the night, full moon over the astronomical significance of a cyclic parabola, some read tea leaves others planets, some see a future past others see past the future. 
i see the soft apocalypse, curtains reveal the wizard a wreck of a shambolic human pulling strings and opening doors, zaya-bong i believe. he smokes roll up cigarettes with mexican tobacco and has skin withered and ancient like some old used map. he has teeth like a graveyard and eyes that left the living a long time ago.
zaya-bong talks to some creatures, insects and catfish of man, he's not speaking in tongues for glossolalia was glossed over for symbolic hand gestures, the kind you find in old grimories and enochian literature, not quite an exact science for it means nothing, all show and posturing, an unkind glamour. the beasts don't care, they have a list of demands, a black  heartlessness, a stupidity that borders brainwashing zombie intelligence and the last one demands a moral weakness o' great wizard, give it to me now.
zaya- bong coughs, he turns to his assistant, 'give the people what they want.'
some exchanges are made, the representatives of man snatch the gifts in their greedy hungry paws, stuffing them inside their persons absorbing the energy like vacuous pumps, not even examining them once and in all likely hood mistakes have been made.
the wizard don't care, he's left already for his weekly blood transfusions and medical exams. the assistant has already left the building in a stretch limo. 
as for the three, why they are already returning to their peoples bearing the wrong gifts of unnecessary ruin and calamity. 

first book of a trilogy sees an anthropologist, a psychologist, a surveyor and a biologist enter area x, a strange ever shifting geographical are where an event occurred that has quarantined it from the world and set an indefinable border around it that may or may not be incrementally expanding.
the all female team are the 12th expedition, where all previous expeditions have returned deranged, detached, suicidal or afflicted with aggressive cancers we follow the thoughts and perceptions of the biologist as they discover the spiral staircase that leads down into the earth.
our biologist sees this as a tower and as the team enter they are subjected to the bizarre and alien experiences we have come to love from the author. 
i read this book in two sessions, it's quite brilliant, reminiscent of jb ballard and hp lovecraft, the writing is exceptionally beautiful, the story horrific and yet beautiful, can't wait to get straight into the next book in the series.

it's not everyday i come across a book that i want to read again as soon as i finish, i'm two thirds through and the unusual feeling of an immediate re read came to me after chapter one. 
here is a brilliantly articulated intelligent document of the conceptualised idea of... baphomet, a much marginalised and misunderstood idea, often hijacked by fear mongers, chaos agents and fundamentalists. the writers nikki wyrd and julian vayne chapter by beautiful chapter expand on baphomet as they almost will it into creation. it's everything i believe in one elegant slim book. what a brilliant piece of work this is, buy one now, thank me later.

a dawn drive after the rain, sun blazing across the horizon, casting into shadow, indelicate contrast. the road is vacant as my module in cruise mode fly's along. i pass the huge rock formations, ancient stone, geology slow time intersects dream time, strange portals for the pineal gland. 
i pass the glistening sky, vivid blue vibration as i approach the excellent waterways, small town surrounded by water. people pass through stop to buy a drink, end up staying for years, lifetimes pass by in the blink of an eye. i myself a married man spent a few years with a nordic woman as my wife, her blue clear eyes and pale skin, her golden hair and ambient nature. the memory faded as the water passes, and the road curves uphill into fog.
where did that come from, a dense patch obscures all environment, now would be a good time for a song but the player is vacant, my car cleared of music. 
out of the fog i emerge, blasted by sun, a born again sun washes over everything as i turn off the freeway and into the bushland, where tall significant trees honour the boundaries. 
i turn into the small obscure road and see pan waiting for me in the sun. he's all knowing, super sensory. home is good, home is where i arrive.  

the warm spell banished as forty days of rain falls, the damp air keeps me inside, reading various texts, a little himalayan honey tea, some fresh lemons. 
the world outside looks washed out and cold, like a norwegian autumn i stay home for what seems likes weeks but it's probably just a few days, the phone don't ring, there's no sign of intelligent life anywhere. 
the reptile in my roof makes a scraping sound, the dog looks forlorn as rain falls, birds make a noise but remain hidden away. 
i play some tori amos, it irritates me, unlike kate bush whom has a certain grace about her. i do like tori but she's no kate in my book.
i end up watching a documentary on insects but i give up halfway through, i watch some politicians speak at the d day ceremony, i wonder if they will mention the 20 million russians that died, i doubt it. it seems crazy they fought that war to stop a totalitarian dictatorship that thwarted democracy and individualism, and then 70 years later formed the european union which is pretty much the same thing.
i fall into a soft sleep, dreams half form, faces leering from the ether. i drive into sydney, there's a break in the rain, the clouds form a lattice across the skies, no stars but it's clear.
there's no traffic. if an alien space ship were passing overhead now would be a good time to land. i watch the sky. no intelligent life here.