the machines fail, incrementally my technology ceases to work, it all comes down to glitches. internet glitches, freeze glitches, start up glitches, battery glitches, program glitches, some where some one is the glich master pumping out strings of code, rouge java scripted gremlins destroy fatebook, safari, yahoo, skype, one by one they infiltrate my machine.
the experts say my model is vintage, it's far to old to fix. they charge me anyway because like all things it's a rort, thankfully i have a desktop that works, another antique but what the hell, it does what i want it to do.
i consider getting an ipad but figure after the ipod, iphone there may as well be some other new technology, the iwatch i will skip becuase i can't wear them but when they have the next i thingy i may invest in one.
a beautiful woman reads my work, to many commas, use dashes she says - so i will.

at the age of twenty i had my first time machine, mostly from stuff i had picked up from ancient mayan calendars and architecture, the concept was complex but functional. machines couldn't really fold space but the mind can. i'd outsourced the mathematics to a small team of peers, nerdish math geeks who had always been sympathetic to my passions. these geeks were to frightened to take hallucinogens but loved the idea of me reporting my experiences to them. they were drawn in by the hard chemistry writing's of alexander and ann shulgin and the time wave zero theory of terrance mckenna as i explained it to them in my non mathematical way. they speculated that the universal teleological attractor could be accessed by the pineal gland under the right circumstances, a gnostic approach that incorporates some mathematical models with the cosmological constant. 
at this point everything would happen simultaneously, time would no longer occur as we understand it, the i ching would determine the time lines i could travel along from this point to others.
i'd spent about four years working out various dosages of mushrooms but dmt was far more effective and accessible, it's in our national emblem the wattle for gods sake. 
my task had been working on dose while the team worked out trajectory via trigram.
together we figured the trigrams matched certain epoch defining events that match the change in conciousness according to mayan prophecy.
for example trigram 1 the creative force would take me to the birth of the universe. from then on it was tricky to know exactly where these focal points would occur, for example t6 would have to be the 1st or 2nd world wars, the moving lines may chart a tangential course towards a defined point within that period, there were inner and outer aspects plus the added complication of the wilhelm interpretation vs the modern, the wilhelm gave us more control so they stuck with that.
there are side effects, i mean nothing is certain, we can only estimate the trgram with the position in time and space and i have made mistakes. it's an imperfect process and fundamentally eastern, the western mind is at a disadvantage, our history is focused permanently upon colonial matters, western interpretations, philosophy.   

irony being the last available meaning before the significance of anything decays to random chance, we can't believe a rational god would have a hand in this chaotic universe but we are not quite ready to accept there is no meaning. god may not be just but he has a sense of humour, as if that offers us some comfort. 
my life is filled with irony, that i believe in a non rational god is itself ironic, that i would never attempt to second guess the plan with my puny human brain, that i would be persecuted for the conditions i was born into and have no choice but to accept it despite my non affiliation with most of it's cultural aspects. 
who gives a toss about imaginary lines in the sand, about the way people perceive their gods, about histories mythologies and conspiracies. 
the truth of it lies in the black sun.
when they come to me i laugh at them, they plant suggestions in my mind when i sleep, they feed me lies and disinformation, they dance on my nerve endings dressed as angels, they hide between lines of newspaper print, they embed themselves in the new age, they inhabit city coffee shops, they infiltrate the disunited nations, green groups and concerned humanists. indeed these are the days of deceptions. 

to call myself a coward when it comes to the dentist is not actually quite fair, i've considered this over many years. 30 in fact, since i last saw a dentist. i'm an obsessive teeth cleaner, and i am sophisticated in my dental product knowledge for the last few years i use miswak toothpaste from saudi arabia, which is herbal and suits my palette.
over the 30 years i have not had much problem with my teeth but last week i was kept awake in intense pain as my back upper wisdom teeth rebelled and made themselves known, inferring a pain upon which the like has not been seen since the inquisition. jesus, every night i'd wake up covered in sweat, shuddering and disoriented. i'd stumble to the kitchen where i'd smear high quality organic clove oil into my gum and over my teeth. the effect was instant numbness and therefore relief. two hours of sleep until the clove oil wore off.
i thought perhaps i could just wait it out, psych out the pain, just ride it out. the days i'd wrap myself in a blanket and watch tv smoking weed and attempting to get some relief but to no avail, although i enjoyed smoking until i was numb for an hour or two.
when i was a kid in london the dentists were nightmare figures drawn from dickens novels. i think i was traumatised by being hauled out of skool to visit dentists and have them stick metallic tools and implements in my overstretched mouth. then there was the lights a panorama of them invading my cones and rods. i was very sensitive to light at an early age, burning up my brain, imprinting upon it's young neurons. but it was the fucking drill that clinched it for me, the unbearable torture of intrusion and it's overwhelming sound penetrating any childish illusion. 
the dentists were paid by the state per extraction so we young working class kids were the dentists cash crop. i had fillings when i never needed them. 
under those lights the face of the dentists was distorted and being an imaginative young waif i saw myself in the hands of some sadistic mad doctor with his array of alien implements. 
thus my dental aversion begins.
onwards as i stand outside a big white and blue building with a photograph of a smiling family all with perfect teeth. i take that step through the door, because i am in terrible pain, and i have no choice. 
i explain myself to the dentist and ask for mercy, financial mercy as well as physical. 
she takes me into a small room and places me on a comfortable reclining chair, puts some glasses upon me, cool dark shades and then i find myself sinking down as she adjusts the chair.
she straps the mask on, and tells me to breath and i find myself almost relaxing as the nitrous oxide floods into me, wow, i'm so relaxed, my arms flop down. this feels good.
the injections come, i feel nothing. she places some sort of clamp around the teeth and pulls them. i don't really care what she does now, i'm zonked. 
afterwards i can't stop thanking her, she shows me the teeth, big bad molars i donate to the creatures beyond the veil.
blood fills my mouth and she offers me a swab to bite down on, 'don't eat or drink anything for 6 hours, don't smoke.'
'mawahjku shyuggthus,' i respond.
i get my antibiotics and return home, i lay down on my sofa and close my eyes, sleep comes fast but brings with it some horrific nitrous oxide nightmares. 

strange events move into being, something shifted in my astronomy, a series of challenges. my teeth needed fixing up and it cost a fortune, my car, my tickets to london, my bills, my fucking computers all fail due to some strange bug, i'm loosing money faster than i can make it. for the first time in a long time i feel stressed out, it's eating my bones and making my hair stand on end, it's fluttering off my eyelids and putting my spine in a knot like a pretzel. 
my nights are interrupted. i get panic attacks, strange skin conditions and some horrible itching, my left ear produces an ocean of wax in a matter of seconds, like that peter gabriel video sledgehammer, my head is sprouting vegetables, they dance around me in cabaret. what the fuck?
my diet suffers, i'm exhausted and working double shifts, getting called in on days off. it drag by, up and down the freeway, sometimes i don't know if i'm coming or going. 
i grab sleep on the run, a few nightmares make me feel worse, one particularly nasty.
i juggle some accounts and manage to pull a rabbit from a hat that may just save my skin if the tax man decides to go easy on me. i scan my payslips picking up errors. no wonder i'm going under. 
eventually i seize control, i don't want my body falling apart quite so soon, no one's going to save you mission.
you gotta save yourself. 
so i do, i cross things of my list of challenges but the biggest one is fixing my computers, apple make it tricky and costly. ouch! 
this is going to hurt.



  

few nights ago i had what i can only describe as contact with lamassu, in some strange sand storm the war machine god rode towards me, concealed by the clouds of sand and dust, it only presented its face when it was at mine, and then it entered into me and i awoke suddenly.
dream or nightmare, the line is blurred and distinction is impossible for this was something much more. my dreams are usually whimsical but there is an order of dreams that occur with such vivid precision i categorise them in the realm of magick. 
i build my relationship with lamassu a few years ago after reading about some of the ancient magickal systems of the middle east, lammasu travels in sand clouds. i felt a strange connection even then, most gods feel an affinity to me, i'm loved. i'm never sure why.
in the dream lamassu was running in terror from it's sleeping state into mine, which is now waking. lamassu has slept for eons.
on awakening i was shocked by the violence and intensity of the dream, the detail was so vivid as was the circumstances, i noted it and began the day, but yesterday i see that islamic forces have destroyed much of the ancient representations of lamassu as well as many other icons into middle eastern mythology and legend. for me these myths are very real, they always have been. despite my jewish history i'm aligned with all representations of god, and the hierarchy of gods, angels and demons. all of them have a place in my psychology, but lamassu is part of the evolution of baphomet, an early representation of cross species dna union. the life force is not tethered by separation of species, earth is populated by many species but one life form. much like many eons ago there was one land mass pangea. 
lamassu is a symbol of the journey, it is also a powerful meme, a desert war machine, five legged lion crossed with bull and bird. it's spirit entered me profoundly, i felt it violently penetrate my skin, my very consciousness. isis can destroy the statues, the art but the idea lives within my blood and bones, within my imagination lamassu is alive. 
   

finally a day to myself, blessed peace. i sleep late which is extremely unusual but i'm exhausted and my body weary from my work.
i manage to investigate flights to europia, i'm reluctant as it's expensive and not my ideal destination but i am committed. i investigate a strange flight via stockholm, a place i've always wanted to visit along with oslo.
i investigate other routes but i'm feeling a pull towards a nordic state of mind.
london will be interesting, jake and i may head down to see my friends in brighton, we need a little get away together. i'm excited by that idea, catching up with my friends and spending time with jake. gotta do the family thing, and even that feels right this time, maybe it won't be a difficult as the last attempts.
i'll travel light as usual, come back heavy.