a couple of early morning waves keep me focused on the prize, a few massive ones nearly crush me, but it's all experience. 
i haul my ass over to kings cross to meet jakob for lunch, he's somewhat trashed after a big night and morning at the beach, looks better than me though. we wander around find a cafe that makes amazing snacks, and a selection of great juices. the guy whom runs it is lovely and we chat with him for a while, then head down through the park to check out the carnivorous plant exhibition at the botanical gardens, some of these plants are just alien. it really reminds me of a jungle planet i wrote about a long time ago. 

later we visit the art gallery and although i have felt uninspired and a little cynical i did see some magnificent koori pieces that were breathtaking and profound.

jakob seems to have developed a taste in art and has great appreciation of style, emulating my own philosophy. we have great chats and get deep about a few subjects but time runs out and once again i make my way home alone.
however, i am grateful i have an interesting son, a man whom is very much an individual. i love him and who he is. it's quite remarkable. 

i do loathe this time of year, it never fails to depress me because i am so alone. even with jake here, about one and a half hours away i am alone, and have been since about 1992. that's okay it will pass and xmas will never retain it's value other than a commercial exercise in tension, money and loneliness and a desperation for life to just get back to normal where expectations are low. 
i worked a few hours xmas day, then travelled to kograh to visit val and olga for a hash cookie and catch up. i have not seen them for ages and spent boxing day with them. they took me to the infamous cronulla and i went for a surf with val, later into newtown for a movie and some drinks, dinner and goodbye. it's always good to see them. 
back home i fell into a deep sleep.
this morning i took myself to the beach at dawn and caught some great waves, the water was amazing, refreshing and nurturing and whatever tension and residual anger / bitterness washed away. that energy is deep inside my bones but every day it seems easier to carry, divorce is hell when children are involved. dad's always lose out, that's the way it is i guess. what can you do but surf away the blues, maybe learn the harmonica.
it's hot, sun burns through the day like an avenging angels sword. the birds come for assistance, water, food, even my fish are chilling under their bridge. me i swan around in my sarong, not really knowing what to do with myself.  

it's just such a great energy hanging out with my son, he's the smartest guy i know, streets and wisdom, and he knows how to have a good time. 
it's good to know i was part of getting something right, his mum did a great job, no denying that. he was really spawned in avalon, part of a great little community of possibilities although i liked newport as it had a little bit of punk in the beach town, eventually that was jazzed up and made to look like florida or something. 
anyway's avalon was outside the box, filled with strange art cats, creatives, cosmic stuff. i was tuned on to some great meditations and astral travelling all over the place. picking up transmissions, sending signals, it was a trip. a good one. 
for jake it was paradise as well, but in a way babies and toddlers dig. beautiful safe beach with rock pools abundant with life, hard core world class surfers out on the north, boogie board riders and much younger kids growing up swimming in smaller waves, in the outside, unafraid, adapting to environments, learning to love and being loved. i read a lot to him, even in the womb, looked after him for the first 3 years, the best years i ever had, how i look back on those three years, i was so lucky to have them really. 
anyway's jake grew up, he left australia to seek his own life in london and he made it work for him. 
i remember when you moved it to that small room, the mattress curled up at either end the room was so tiny. you stuck it out and then he found an internship, and you sweated it out to get better positions in different companies and you made it work. and now you come visit home a man. 
your journey is always unveiling itself, it's similar to mine and vastly different, but it's yours, and that makes you find out who you are and where your place is in this world, and eventually the universe. the best outcome is to relax about everything and just trust. it really is about letting go, something very profound in that concept. when they talk about being in the moment what they really mean is letting go of the last one. i know whatever the future holds for you it will be good. you are always welcome here if you want to escape anything, no questions, no agenda, just come chill out with your old man, read, play chess and be in the moment.
i'd be so happy to have you stay here.
london is good when your young and need something to stimulate your but it's a big fucking city that eats you up and spits you out, history's dark energy swirls around like an oroboros. it will eventually eat itself, you can see it now, it's been failing for years, the decline of the west. london has a karmic debt, it cashing in it's chips now. 
the beauty of australia is it has surf, that's it chaos, a swirling pure energy made from hydrogen and water, it has inherent power that can feed all life if you know how to be nourished. there's no agenda there, it loves and kills, it nourishes or depletes, it is the universe and it's all about the observer. 
gradually as i built my relationship with the surf i realise how alike it is to my relationship with you. it's respectful, honest and powerful built upon a strong foundation of love. 
sometimes we catch a wave for one another, sometimes it's still and we just bob up and down waiting happily, doing our thing. quality over quantity is the name of that game. everyday i go out there hoping to catch a wave, often there is nothing but when one comes along it sustains me. 
you are my wave jake. the one i surfed and still surf with, it's been the best ride ever. the best. i'd wipe out for a wave like you anytime.

    

big wave, massive swell, it's powerful stuff this morning as i find myself enjoying another session in the water. 40 minites of high quality quantum yoga, man i'm generating a field like a new god. pushing the boundary, pushing myself, gotta remain alive, healthy and vital. restorative powers regeneration, a new being. a new me.

some bar somewhere where people celebrate something they are to drunk to know. girls are falling down all over the place, guys display their tattoo's around a pool table. the bar staff all look like gnomes, shaved heads and long beards. a girl plays a guitar, her voice whines away like modern women. i clap when she plays a tune i like, gotta support music right?
i'm watching a beautiful woman in a short dress eating a selection of cheeses, she's drinking a sparkling blue drink made from vodka, flirting with her girlfriend who strokes her hair.
i make them laugh with a story and sip a sparkling water with lime floating on the top.
it's good to get out the house and actually do something social. i gotta refine my skills, when i am good i am good, when i am bad, blah!

energy transforms is not diminished.
nature likes spirals
geometry is constant amidst the change
vortex spirals are everywhere and can be controlled.

centrapedence - often represented by arch angel micheal 'keeper of the watch' or 'guardian' the one who serves behind the throne. 
he is biological improvement, creation a high vibrational field that ripple out, light, colour, sound and then physical matter. there is no friction in this force. it benefits life.

centrafugence - biological deterioation, a scattering force, slowed by natural courses. 

gabriel - 'god is my strength' infinite surface area but finite volume, a connecting between finite and infinite is when the horn is sounded, the horn being another geometric shape.

uriel is 'the light of god' prepares the way for the unfolding of the light of god within every soul. the flame of god.
this quality creates and opens black holes, travelling through when a great mass of photons is released, i.e. death.

raphael- stirring the water at the healing pool. 
invisible vortex, influence the body, spirit. water is 70% of us. thus water energies are healing as raphael is the healing force. 
geometrically this is represented by quantum tunnelling.  

i'm surfed out. it's the most satisfying feeling in the world, the sun, water and air cruise through your bones and radiate a vibration of love. and so it began. 

contact from the beautiful trina whom i have known for a long time now. she is a beautiful witch. we are different but it always works. i'm happy she contacted me, for the most unselfish reasons. that's love right?
secondly my english friends, tez and jean reached out to me after months and months of silence. i guess it was just circumstance, it's true i could have handled it better but it was honest and our friendship can only get better. anyways, it was great despite the technology involved, i hope to skype with them soon as i am able. but we put behind us a wound, and commenced some healing, that's love. right?
and thirdly my old friend in the suburbs caroline whom has reconnected with me after many many years. i can't wait to see her again. the stories we will share. 
val and olga and a whacky xmas together i'm sure. two grinches and elf. it will be nuts.
stick who rang in today, a new friend but a great one. i'm grateful for all these people. wilde, stone, everyone who has helped me along  the way. 

i'm looking forwards, that's healthy and hopeful. i must admit i have not had that for a while. it's been grim out there, for everyone. it's not real but it does have implications upon me that is overwhelmingly negative but i have to ground myself in it as it is war. 
a battle has been declared, it started long ago and it's coming back for us. i wish i could escape it but i can't it's coming for me and what i know to be true. i have seen it in the background all my life, the march of unreason, envy, hate, fear and ignorance. it's soldiers out number me, it's weapons are lies and disinformation. it's my o'brien and i will never answer 5 to it.
so a little love goes a long way. i want to love my enemies, those that will hate me. i've found it's power. 
it's not a weak religious force, it's a message of authority and power. 
i don't want to mislead anyone, it is not easy and i fail sometimes but with these four people around, i am feeling positive.

early morning waves crashing, splattering the body of a tired and worn out captain mission, the holy echo of neptune whispers in his ears and slides through his atoms. water is in everything is it not, pulled by lunar forces, astrological impulsions resonate through life itself, and water is the conduit. 
i'm surfing through anger, anger at the stupid dumb girl who has constantly intruded upon my zen, the idiot stalker, the sender of a billion photographs of breakfast lunch and dinner, the random snippets of her mundane thoughts constantly and the useless information she carries about serial killers and such. my head throbs from boredom, frustration and the way it infiltrates me. i have to put a ban on her contacting me. for sanity sake.
the surf shakes my bones, a big mother fucking wave crashes down upon my soul. i can deal with big waves but dumb blondes?

slow train coming, station to station, somebody might wave back, downtown train, train in vain, man so many train songs i like. anyway i'm on the train, in newtown, in the city on a mission. there's a redfern moment and a strathfield opportunity as all lines converge. it's a short mission, a simple one and i must be back at base quickly and without anyone noticing. 

morning surf is magnificent, crystal waves structures healing architecture, my body vibrates with the energy, my fin somewhat battered these days, worn and frayed, but still very effective. it's a colder current, it's vital, i can pick up deep aquatic vibrations and depths own dark  and ancient intelligence.

afternoon sun is perfect, sinking into the horizon, the ground gives way to tomorrow. i catch the last rays of ancient sunlight, the promise of the future revealed. my blood is processed, white and red corpuscles, plasma tide, energetic pulse a micro lightening as energy comes under strict control and alters, i guide it, shape it, move through turbulence and bring it down to perfect sets and beautiful patterns.

night brings clarity, her nocturnal army marches my way, it's wonderful to surrender sometimes to something more powerful than myself, more determined and when we meet in an erotic explosion i wonder if light really travels fast, how did darkness get there first? 

i got burned, taken for a ride by someone i trusted. it really cuts but i have to let it go, there are so many actions i could take and i think about but i don't need the karmic complications so i just hope somewhere in the girls head she understands the disappointment i feel. it's just more deception than i like around me. i like people who are true or at least fake it well. 

anyways head down, work harder, let go, move forwards. i'm good at it.

  

bright future looms, the karma police have arrived and one by one my enemies are being dealt their justice. don't look in the eye of the gorgon, it's stare will freeze you where you stand. the beast has many eyes, snake head blues stone cold killer. it's a beast with a proven history, it's only slain by those with eyes wide open and shut, look away, avert thy gaze, for the blind will see the truth will set you free. my tip to gorgon killers is wear dark shades and use the third eye.

 

i start a new chapter at work, a new boss, finally someone i respect. i'm burnt out, thinking about leaving, offers rolling in, but i'm hanging in there, not really sure why and now the tide is shifting. 
i finished reading a novel yesterday, the main character is a young teenager, he witnesses something terrible and it effects him for the rest of his life. later he is haunted by pictures of stick figures drawn in chalk. it's a mystery and as we read each chapter reveals something. but the ending is far to dramatic for me, the twist is intense but just not english enough to match the plot, it's more american. however, in the final chapter we discover something about the main character that even he does not know. i liked that. that was the english bit. 
usually i prefer american writers.
they build a house next door to me, that means lots of machinery diggers, sawing and noise. no privacy. i wake early and return at dusk, there are tree trunks everywhere. it looks obscene, a crime against nature. i hate the slow destruction, incrementally humans eat nature. one day it will turn upon them. 
i sigh and watch with heavy heart and great sadness the death of the trees i have grown to love. 
doors are opening and closing, it's life's little moments, sliding doors, choices, alternative universes. i slid into one and it's opposite appears. i think the glass is half full but discover it empty. 
a call from out of the blue, bad news travels fast, head seems to throb like vast energies about to explode. i listen for a while to the voice at the end, a girl i know. she's droning on and i loose my temper. i wake up in the shopping market, a bottle of coconut water in my hands. i'm dealing with intrusion. it's spilling into my illusions. she's squawking about a psychopath we know. many years ago he hunted me down but i escaped, only to find he had joined forces with other psychopaths. 
they had the power and they sucked up into their dark energies all my powers, left me weak and vulnerable  one thing i have learnt is when you come across a psychopath in life, leave them alone. so i did. i left them all and now she's come back to remind me.
'but he's a psychopath' she wails.
'yeah i know. you had your chance but you were all cowards.'
'we are all scared of him,'
'that's what psychopaths do.' 
i end the conversation, i'm upset and need a drink. that glass was half full i think, now it's fucking empty. 
    

awake early and head down to the ocean where i see the surf conditions are excellent and take advantage, straight in. big waves to, but these are sexy and treat me kindly, oh my god, this is amazing, i'm almost a dolphin. sometimes i ride the fall of the wave, sometimes the crest, i'm all over it, in tune with neptune and back where i belong. my fin is looking beaten and worn, i notice the strap is frayed and there are some chips on the edge, maybe it's time to pick up a new one.

those floating islands, sometimes zones of thoughts, 
private climates, instinctive homes 
to the creatures in exotic forests 
and all the peoples who are alone
you penetrate further deeper, you move down that line like a cool river
weaving it's way through jungle heat. 
all the creatures look your way, all eyes gaze, 
jungle cacophony tears itself silent and a satellite looks down at this exotic moment. frozen now.
frozen time, you walk through the crowds, shopping malls, schools, high streets and traffic, you see it all in-between the blink, freeze frame.
you could steal an ice cream, money, a car. you could walk into a bank and fill your case with cash no one would ever know. even nature has stopped, if you look carefully you can see a raindrop exploding but that's details and you are not here for the details. 
in through the glass eyes of strangers, travelling around corners and curves, you don't hesitate. locked on, to what you want, what you need what your going for. 
uncertain smile, unguarded moment. 
  

this is not captain mission writing, he is an imposter. this is captain missing. the mission routine is getting old and frustrating. what was that all about? 
writing reports?
the mission sub program is now inactive, we have it in a containment field. what would it write anyway, whimsical musings, stuff for the bird, lizards and the fish. who really wants to hear about his tiger grass and the surf conditions.
captain missing is much more exciting, has more to say about the world. captain missing has seen it all, been everywhere and knows everything, well almost. 
his reports are creative and written in that kick ass attitude you love, no political correctness, no fucking around here. 
captain missing is a bit like that guy conrad writes about, he's lost up the jungle, gone rouge. only rumours filter back in tribal tales and explorer antidotes in steamy whisky stinking bars in the tropics. 
one particular unverified story was told by a drunken doctor in rangoon. he was banned from a number of pubs and hotels, lived doing backdoor ops in a shed on the outskirts of town. when he was cashed up the doctor visited madame slings opium den for a few days release. it was during such lost week, in a haze of opium and oppressive heat the doctor encountered missing.
'i didn't see him come in, just saw his shape, wrapped up in that big coat, he's big, but tall to, he wears those big boots so it's hard to tell really but when he did stand out he blocked out the window and therefore the natural light. the window was only opened for one hour in the mornings, just to clear the air and smoke away. madame fling is quite particular about light, it's usually always dark inside. i remember him standing up above me, the shape of eternity, and i remember he sat across from me sipping tea on a big mass of cushions. 
he nodded at me, acknowledged my presence and offered to fill my cup. i saw his hand, specifically the rings. one was a moonstone, one was a pentangle, one was an amethyst the other was a chaos star. 
we sipped and he told me he had been in the jungle for two years, living with the voodoo people, a tribe i had never heard about. i listened as he spoke, telling me his strange story but i was also under the influence of opium and slipping in and out of dream states so i cannot be certain if i heard him correctly but this is what i remember.
the captain hitched a ride on a small motor boat. he adopted the identity of a ethno- biologist researching rubber plants for petro chemical company back in australia called mandox. of course the only research he had committed to was the search for the vast halo, a legend amongst psychonuats. the vast halo is a vividly purple small flower that only grows in circles of 12. the story goes only the voodoo tribe know where they grow and how to use them without death or permanent brain damage. the vast halo circle was only known by the shaman of the tribe so accessibility was difficult for mission, it meant infiltration and ordeal. so for almost fifteen months captain missing learnt the initiation of the voodoo shaman. 
the voodoo shaman was called loco, gentle and wise and very patient. his daughter was called agwe and missing and her seemed to connect on many levels but discipline was essential in mastering his apprenticeship, commitment to the mission at any cost. loco took missing under his wing and showed him the arts of voodoo sorcery and power, introduced him to the deities, the plants and systems of magick voodoo culture is imbued with. finally it was time to take the vast halo.
loco led missing through the jungle, it was dense and thick, teeming with hidden life and power. they travelled further than mission had ever gone before, deep into the unknown territory. five days and five nights later they arrived at a cliffs edge. loco led missing towards the edge, pointing down into a sea of mist. 
then he stepped off. 
missing followed. he leapt off and fell.
through the fog nothing was visible, but as he descended he came through to the clear blue skies, and below him a pristine lake. the obscured lake. the water was cold, refreshing, and beautiful. missing laughed with joy, he splashed around and then began to seek out loco. there he was emerging from the water, at the shoreline. missing followed. 
they sat in silence on the white sands until their clothes were dry. shaking sand off they began to make a fire, 'we have to await the night and the moon,' loco whispered. 
for a few hours missing enjoyed the peace, resting as he watched the flames jumping, and the moon begin to rise over the mountain. it was  full and the lake was illuminated by its silver light. eventually loco pointed at the surface of the lake. 
it was difficult to see but something was breaking through the water, whatever it was was improbable. missing stood to observe. gradually he saw it was a plant, not one but many. they were waterlilies. massive leaves floating upon the surface and there upon a short stem the purple flower of the vast halo. there were twelve of them.
they swam out, clambering upon the surface of the leaf. it supported both their weights, and offered a stable platform. 
anticipating loco would cut down the flower to ingest mission drew his knife but loco beckoned for him to put it away. he grabbed the stem and began to bend it down, while at the same time opening his mouth towards missing. 
inside the flower was a volume of what looked like water but it was purple, the colour reflected by the plant, 'this is what we drink captain.'
missing took a drink, it was sublime. not foul tasting at all.
loco drunk some while mission bent a flower towards the old shaman.  
then they sat down together upon the leaf. mission noticed all the leaves spread out so as they touched or could be stepped upon. the flowers all grew upwards and out like a three dimensional mandela. 
they were indeed vast and in the moonlight surreal as if from a fairytale story, the stars sparkling with untapped magick and the strange jungle sounds echoed across the dark water translated into a cacophony of living sound, life.
'what happened, what was revealed?' the doctor asked missing who had sunk into a reverie of sorts, his eyelids closed as the opium took hold.
missing smiled wryly.
'everything changed.'

is that it?
the doctor pushed missing for more but the man seemed to be lost in some colourful dream, freed from pain.

'is that it? it's not much of a story, it sounds like the old mission.'
'yes, yes it is.'
the howling plant spirits seared through his body, those obsidian eyes opened as if revealing the alpha and omega, his mind was everywhere, nowhere. it soared through the galaxies, tributaries of consciousness seeking out the dark matter. 
i get mission now, it makes it more interesting. he's an everywhere and nowhere man. 

captain missing filed his reports, captain mission filed his. one wrote their way out, the other in. in the end there was no difference. the destination was the same. 

still in the north, i stop for food, a bowl of acai berries and fruit with seeds and nuts and stuff that tastes awesome while chowing down i notice i'm in a yoga retreat with a cafe attached. how did i get here, i wonder. i sit in perfect union, nutrition floods my bloodstream, packing power and vibrational harmony. i'm in zen space, it feels good. i go to pay and speak with the yoga princess at the desk, she's smiling i make her laugh as i say, 'i didn't want to eat it, it looked like art.'

she's giggling like a schoolgirl, 'i just sat there and looked at it, and when i did it eat, it was magnificent.'

she's blushing but i have to go, the road awaits. 

 

I'd forgotten about that show, the expanse, it's one of the best science fiction series i've seen in a long time apart from westworld which is excellent as well. 
i knew i liked miller but forgotten why, then i saw the scene that clinched it for me, the bit where he explains to his friend why he's on his mission. it's a great scene, they all have their moments, even one of the head people in the united nations is rich and interesting, in motivation and character. her voice sounds so expressive, iranian i think, she's amazing.
i think if you liked westworld you would like this, it's complex rich and well written.

i'm awake very early doing shopping chores, stocking up on coconut water. i get back just in time. a massive hailstorm ruins my plans, rain comes down like some weird deluge, frogs, fish and crustaceans litter the back garden, surreal garden. from where i stand in the safety of mission control. the sky is black, as if night has returned, and the hail is huge. white balls clatter upon my roof, the deck and the skylights, it's deafeningly loud. 
what can i do? it's my day off, so i finish my book. suddenly the storm becomes more severe and lightning cracks disturb my thoughts. i freak in lightening as i was hit by it and it's made me react in a very violent fear. i literally have to hide. my body won't even listen to my brain, it just moves and does what it needs to do,no amount of reasoning and rationalising can make my fear stop, the reptilian brain just kicks in hard.
the rain keeps falling, my garden is changing, lush and wild the only losers are my torn and tattered palms standing like loyal soldiers at the end of time, sustaining the brunt of the damage. every other plant is enjoying a much needed quenching of their thirst.
later i flop into my sofa and try to watch some tv show but i end up watching 'the expanse' again on disc, and they have done an excellent job transferring from books to screen. i like the screen versions better, they really are worthwhile as good quality science fiction is rare on tv. 
anyway's, book or screen its a good story to get into. complex and multi levelled. 
later a pocket of sunlight and i'm looking at blue skies. then the rain returns. i'm not going out again so i'm kinda reasonably content with added coconut water.  

few days off finally, i have time to do what i have to do, eat some salad and walk, see the ocean, see the trees. clean up home, move some books around. 
i'm the disheveled garden overspilling with potential. i have an amazing pond, i've spent loads of cash keeping those fish alive. and i love them. i want them to be happy. i think they are despite my unpredictable feeding habits. 
at back the tiger grass and black bamboo is growing wild and untamed, the palms though have taken a battering and need some assistance, maybe nutrients would help, i have to save them. wild weather, rain and wind does that. batters them.
however everything about my garden is jungle influenced.

okay, this racheal lady is really interesting and very cute. it's thrown me somewhere else. oh no, not again, i'm happy hope your happy, one flash of light,,,i wanna axe to come down right now. 
she's like... 
i walk in to that old workplace, it's brightened up since mary poppins arrived, i like it. her friend is often popping in to look at zeros and ones, so sometimes i see her and now it's been thrice, which is a good number because it means each time i see her it's better than the last. i just don't know why, just energy stuff i guess. even though brief it's very nice, but today was awkward.
i did stumble into town, unwashed and slightly dazed, after all it's the middle of the week, i been doing a few long days, and i'm looking at my worst. as for my clothes, burn them. that's my work outfit. it's pretty horrible, i should spruce up but it seems pointless when you have to do personal care. i don't mind doing it but i'm not fucking wearing groovy clothes to do it. 
anyway, i fall into the house and there she is, sitting on the computer with mary poppins. i'm like, what the fuck, i wasn't expecting this but, i'm also like well this is a pleasant surprise but i wish i wasn't looking so dorky.
so i launch into activity, some sort of avoidance response. i'm piscean, for fucks sake, this is like one of the strongest drugs in the universe. 
i power through, somehow i manage to say the right thing at the right time and then it becomes a blur. but i'm here now and...
okay i have to wing it.    

i miss you bowie. 
I really do.
everyday i think of you.
casting influence upon me
making me strange and weird, 
embracing consciousness, culture and magic

i drifted and flow
i change and i grow
 and understand your buddha nature

it never cast a shadow upon me
always showed me the way
i miss you man
star man 
since you went away

cocaine and sex
you did them best 
and moved to beautiful west berlin.
i like all that jazz, 
i really do now i tasted it
you know what's real is not faking it

i drift and flowed
i change
 and i grow
 and understand your buddha nature

it never cast a shadow upon me
always showed me the way
i miss you man
star man 
since you went away

i drifted and flow
change and grow
 and understand your buddah nature.

i find myself heading north, on the road to newcastle, passing kooky little towns and beaches, i stop for coffee somewhere quirky. i like this place, it's a town i have been to before. long jetty, just before the entrance. i flirt with a girl in a surf shop and then head onwards, over the big bridge at the entrance, along a windy a road, until i find the place i am looking for croudace bay. oh yeah, this is a different climate, the suns out, skies are blue although there is a rainbow behind me. i'm embracing the future, finding my power again. it's time for captain mission once more, a new mission a new captain mission.

great universe whom encompasses all, nameless and without form give us our daily dose of hope and blessings and forgive us our failings and inadequacies. direct us away from fear and into love and stop tempting me with girls like rachel whom although is quite adorable is another fucking lesbian who cannot possibly reciprocate in any way. 
it's the cosmic joke that runs through my love life, sadly and tragically it's hard to laugh. it's hard to feel anything but the fall guy in some elaborate emotional prank although i guess we could be great friends, but it's never enough really. 
  

the fear moves in, it's always there when you plug into media, when you hang with zombies, when you deal with the maya. bad news bearers, bad vibe generators killing the soul, and god knows there's a lot of it about. 
gotta focus on love and light for a while.
i gotta give some thanks to the things that matter, friends, family, flowers, the waves, the stars, art and girls, not necessarily in that order.
praise jah!

my wanderings took me across the silver ocean, to unbeknown shore. on the map it looked like a black circle with an x in the centre and then dotted concentric circles radiating out. 
the journey itself was uneventful, only that inner landscape seemed to shift, a certain fixed nature seemed to slowly dissolve within me, all my memories were quicksand as though time distorted itself the closer i reached my goal. my mantra kept me focused but it was imperfect.
by the time i put my foot upon the shore i was almost a different being, the only thing that stayed permanent seemed to be my name, captain mission.
the soft crunch of barefoot upon virgin sand was exquisite, the sensation of being the first and the tactile feeling itself blended into a vague euphoria. a hot breeze blew through my hair.
the walk up to the beginnings of the fertile jungle as life teemed within seemed like it was magnetically encouraged, i never looked back once as the jungle enveloped me. all travellers and explorers know there is no guarantee of return, and even if you do, nothing is the same as that moment of departure.
one foot in front of the other, one breath at a time, i moved through the vines, trees and palms, the deafening sounds of insects and birds, the oppressive swelter. on and onwards i fought my way through the dense patches and moved around inpenetratable areas. some vines were now the size of tree trunks, a circle of datura stamonium grew in strange uniformity to the rest of the vegetation and i knew i had found the spot. 
before stepping into the circle i wiped the sweat from my face and eyes, took a moment to calm my breathing and centre myself. 
the defence mechanism was impressive, waves of time displacement interfering with memory. i speculated it worked upon airborne pheromone activity, the closer i approached the stronger the impact. 
i emptied my pockets, laid everything out on a tree root and looked at my possessions, a photograph of my son, a watch. i placed these carefully into my bag and hung the bag from a low branch. 
for a moment i wondered if i should take my clothes off completely and step inside but i started to feel some confusion and thought it best to get this done so i stepped in.
instantly the fog in my mind lifted, pieces of me returned in some cohesion. my new skin was deep black, and my eyes now operated at supernatural frequencies. the flowers tasted bitter and the urge was to gag but i swallowed them up resisting all physical automatic reactions. i had not eaten for days and could feel the flowers in the pits of my guts being digested, quickly absorbed into my blood and making it's way through my body.
spirit beings appeared, many from different dimensions, and with a certain amount of adjustment i could tune them in and out. fortunately inside the protective circle none could reach me, but the malevolent entities tried to seduce me, to trick me from the circle. eventually i found the realm i sought. 
it was the ladder of lights i climbed, a certain mediative visualisation as i began my ascent. my research into the merkava had given me some idea of the symbology involved but i was unprepared for the revelation. to reach this point is akin to stepping through the wardrobe into narnia or finding yourself transported to middle earth perhaps even another planet or the asgard of thor, loki and odin. 
the chariot was incomprehensible, impossible yet gave the appearance of reality, it's base was solid, it was alive yet in flames. the living creatures that made the chariot were  man (earth), lion (mars), ox (venus)and eagle (mercury).
i ascended onto the mighty frame the flames licked at my skin but did not burn the way fire does. one hand in front of the other, i pulled myself up and took my place at the throne next to my queen.
it was time to rise.

it always feels like i have fallen off the edge of the world, caught in the reshaped remodel vortex where character is forged and identity transmuted, situations shift and transmute but there is a familiar archetype that always comes to the rescue. i often think of myself as a collection of personas all functioning in a healthy persona, a tarot deck is a good analogy and often i will fall back to those definitions. i use the tarot often, my thoth deck, sometimes i use the runes. i move from divination to invocation if necessary , the major arcana is the palette. i can be all things at all times, depending on environment  i can utilise what ever influence i require. i used to consider myself a magickian, i still am, but i know powerful magick requires no ego and ironically should be renounced for an egoless magickian does not use magick but something else, a childlike innocence and trust perhaps, the fool. ego, is the key and often i have written about it as the trap all spiritual seekers should be aware off. magick as a complete system warns the philosopher of this in it's oblique language and terms but the new age does not even know about this trap. and it is a trap. 
the fool has no power, the fool has no control, the fool seeks nothing but discovers everything, the fool is the blank canvass ready to be anything. the fool has a dog that excitedly jumps after his heels, why? because the dog loves the fool, (in the crowley deck it is a tiger that bites the fool) it represents nature, and instinctively knows they both live in the moment. no hopes or fears, just being and a belief in self. the fool will move in any direction, even over the cliff, which is why i guess i always feel like i am falling into something new. 

i'm up at 5am like a lonely raven hunting the house for my keys, a sad strange figure functioning on moonlight and weed, a strange enigmatic character from mervyn peake's unpublished lost novel, mission alone.
go through the motions and get myself out the door into the fading moonlight and into the xv and along the strange route that leads to my local nexus. i try to sleep on the train, but end up reading a big chunk of viv albertine's extrodiary book, 'music, clothes and boys.'
i try to catch some sleep but someones listening to headphones and the tinny sound of dance music. but it's five fucking thirty in the morning my brain screams silently. no one sits next to me, i project an aura that pushes people away, it's powerful in the early hours. 
in the city i get my fix of caffine and do what i need to, i find a few interesting books, one on the mimiesis and representation in the arts, i flick through it, seeing some damaged pages get a massive discount. 
the first page talks as mimiesis as sympathetic magick. 
so it's me with a book on art and hours to kill. no problem. 
later in the early evening i meet an old friend and we go grab some cocktails at the arthouse where i gaze upon my fave painting in the world. 
it's been a long fucking time since i have seen my friend, to long. she's amazing. she's so talented, clever and wise i always feel so inadequate in her company. the fact that she's drop dead gorgeous is very disconcerting. what's she doing with an idiot like me. 
i think i am slightly drunk, words are falling out my mouth i have no control over, nothing is considered just a gush of whatever pops in / out. i'm falling through the stars, what's going on, i was looking at my fave painting and now i'm hurdling through space and time. 
we peck away at olives, blue cheese and some salad. there's rain in the air and the small restaurant is squished full with people but as soon as i sit down people move away thus we have room to sprawl, the harbour looks amazing through watery glaze of rain and lights bouncing off it's surface. my perceptions altered, i'm not used to being out in the city late, so much happening, people noise colour, and this woman who is really a phoenix before me. an old battered raven and a phoenix, it's surreal. 
we go see the the at the opera house. i find the first few songs difficult as the vocals are distorted and the mix is not correct but after the fourth song things start cooking. we are right at the front. matt talks a lot, i've seen the the a few times and he never really speaks much to the audience but tonight he's chatting away in that soft voice, telling us about how leonard cohen took him for dinner and gave him some good advice. talking about growing up in london. the songs have not lost any power or relevance, they still have the passion. it's a simple show, live no trickery or complex lights, just a bunch of guys on stage. 'helpline operator' is amazing and i'm enjoying hearing the mind bomb songs but most of the numbers come from 'dusk' tonight as matt speaks of his brothers deaths and the way the songs from dusk revolve around these events. last time i saw the the was 30 years ago at selinas on the 'the the verses the world' tour. most of the audience get up for most of the songs, but i stay seated until uncertain smile. 
out into the sydney night i wonder what i have done to deserve this friendship, and i hope that maybe it will last and be stronger than love even.

she decided she wanted a proper relationship, she said she wanted a future and i'm bereft of a future. i could have argued with her but in many ways she was correct, my future with her was void, we were just operating on some mutual orgasm drive, the idea of talking about anything meaningful would have just a short conversation. we had no other future, it was true. but we had a good wave. two good waves, then a wipe out. 
i don't mind wipe outs as long as it's clean, everyone feels okay about everything and there's no deceit. i'm complex but honest. so we hugged and walked away. sexy wave.

Hail to the Element of Hydrogen
Hail to the Element of Helium
Hail to the Element of Lithium
Hail to the Element of Beryllium
Hail to the Element of Boron
Hail to the Element of Carbon
Hail to the Element of Nitrogen
Hail to the Element of Oxygen
Hail to the Element of Fluorine
Hail to the Element of Neon
Hail to the Element of Sodium
Hail to the Element of Magnesium
Hail to the Element of Aluminium
Hail to the Element of Silicon
Hail to the Element of Phosphorus
Hail to the Element of Sulphur
Hail to the Element of Chlorine
Hail to the Element of Argon
Hail to the Element of Potassium
Hail to the Element of Calcium
Hail to the Element of Scandium
Hail to the Element of Titanium
Hail to the Element of Vanadium
Hail to the Element of Chromium
Hail to the Element of Manganese
Hail to the Element of Iron
Hail to the Element of Cobalt
Hail to the Element of Nickel
Hail to the Element of Copper
Hail to the Element of Zinc
Hail to the Element of Gallium
Hail to the Element of Germanium
Hail to the Element of Arsenic
Hail to the Element of Selenium
Hail to the Element of Bromine
Hail to the Element of Krypton
Hail to the Element of Rubidium
Hail to the Element of Strontium
Hail to the Element of Yttrium
Hail to the Element of Zirconium
Hail to the Element of Niobium
Hail to the Element of Molybdenum
Hail to the Element of Technetium
Hail to the Element of Ruthenium
Hail to the Element of Rhodium
Hail to the Element of Palladium
Hail to the Element of Silver
Hail to the Element of Cadmium
Hail to the Element of Indium
Hail to the Element of Tin
Hail to the Element of Antimony
Hail to the Element of Tellurium
Hail to the Element of Iodine
Hail to the Element of Xenon
Hail to the Element of Caesium
Hail to the Element of Barium
Hail to the Element of Lanthanum
Hail to the Element of Cerium
Hail to the Element of Praseodymium
Hail to the Element of Neodymium
Hail to the Element of Promethium
Hail to the Element of Samarium
Hail to the Element of Europium
Hail to the Element of Gadolinium
Hail to the Element of terbium
Hail to the Element of Dysprosium
Hail to the Element of Holmium
Hail to the Element of Erbium
Hail to the Element of Thulium
Hail to the Element of Ytterbium
Hail to the Element of Lutetium
Hail to the Element of Hafnium
Hail to the Element of tantalum
Hail to the Element of Tungsten
Hail to the Element of Rhenium
Hail to the Element of Osmium
Hail to the Element of Iridium
Hail to the Element of Platinum
Hail to the Element of Gold
Hail to the Element of Mercury
Hail to the Element of Thallium
Hail to the Element of lead
Hail to the Element of Bismuth
Hail to the Element of Polonium
Hail to the Element of Astatine
Hail to the Element of radon
Hail to the Element of Radium
Hail to the Element of Francium
Hail to the Element of Actinium
Hail to the Element of Thorium
Hail to the Element of Protactinium
Hail to the Element of Uranium
Hail to the Element of Neptunium
Hail to the Element of Plutonium
Hail to the Element of Americium
Hail to the Element of Curium
Hail to the Element of Berkelium
Hail to the Element of californium
Hail to the Element of Einsteinium
Hail to the Element of Fermium
Hail to the Element of Mendelevium
Hail to the Element of Nobelium
Hail to the Element of Lawrencium
Hail to the Element of Rutherfordium
Hail to the Element of Dubnium
Hail to the Element of Seaborgium
Hail to the Element of Bohrium
Hail to the Element of Hassium
Hail to the Element of Meitnerium
Hail to the Element of Darmstadtium
Hail to the Element of Roentgenium
Hail to the Element of Copernicium
Hail to the Element of Ununtrium
Hail to the Element of Flerovium
Hail to the Element of Ununpentium
Hail to the Element of Livermorium
Hail to the Element of Ununseptium
Hail to the Element of Ununoctium
Hail to the Element of Captain Mission

oh to be in arizona, the big sky, the lost horizon. all that space to soak up. my bones felt good. i fell in love with arizona. the erotic colour of the sun, the the tex mex groove, experimental women, the lovely contrast between inside and out.
there's nothing quite as beautiful as contemplating your navel under the stars in arizona, following some time slip into a past life when the west was still a frontier and the hopi, mojave, navaho and apaches built their civilisations. 
it's such a flush of overwhelming emotion to be home.
the pull is so strong, irresistible gravity always at the heart. i should go there again. 

a wet old sunday leaves me alone on my day off, contemplating the navels and other bits of a girl called anna marie, she lives in arizona a place i do love, she's really beautiful to. those legs go all the way to heaven, yes they really do!
after a quick chat, many internet problems to cross, i get stuck into some domestics. polishing wooden floors until they are so slippery and shinny i keep falling over. it's like an old black and white movie, i'm poking my body with the mop, slipping and sliding, its only a matter of time before something hazardous occurs and i'm out for the count.
i manage to finish cleaning the floors but then i look at the kitchen, cluttered and messy and i shove everything away wondering what life would be if i were married. i guess that all depends don't it?
a lot of people i know are married and miserable, men and women. some seem to be fine but you don't really know what goes on in private. one mans dream is another's nightmare.
i manage to do almost everything on my own, it's bloody hard work and there's no time left at the end but i somehow plod through. this season is plodding season, there is no cash left, there is only debt and work.
the debt will hang around for a while, i just have to tighten my belt, chop wood carry water. 
rain comes, it's almost welcome, i guess some farmers need it more than myself, some sunday's are better than others, this is just a dull sunday, indifferent lean and penetratingly mundane. i look like i'm working but really i'm not, just moving one pile and making another. 
something blows in the wind, leaves shake and shimmer, shapes take form and my imagination stretches the fiction. when you stare at the tree long enough it stares back at you. or was that an abyss? 
it's hard to tell one from the other, it's almost unreasonable to ask.