i travel through an astral realm, it's almost certain in a world of uncertainty i am where i am. i didn't try. i had a planned a different method of protection, one based upon control over myself but some preordained fate has other plans.
i just travelled there in the straightest route i know. and it was perfection, no defences, no challenge, surrender on both parts.  

the great way say's -  be like ice about to melt, bend to be straight, empty to be filled, wear down to be renewed, reduce to gain, the softest surpasses the hardest, be weak to be strong, the rigid tree shall fall and the softest and weakest can be water yet it is still strongest. 

i cast that spell a few months ago, it was my last one as far as i was aware and then obliterated all knowledge of it, only the symbol remained somewhere in the space between our worlds, the energised sigil potent and free. i had no expectation, not even a memory. then out from the chaos sphere a magnetic energy, attraction.

our astral bodies met, they begin the entanglement on a different level however the spell is yet incomplete. i did my work, i'll take full responsibility for it. high probability it's just fate playing with me, but that's okay as i love to play. attraction has an equal and opposite force, that's the one i guess i feel somewhat anxious about but i have to meet it either way in order to know.
the dawn comes, i'm driving down some narrow country roads out near farms and wineries, magnificent horses in the morning light, the birds awake and hungry swooping like electrons at the centre of the atom, everything is alive. 

  

the ocean loves me, it bestows me many gifts in it's strange currents i swim, float and play, i kiss the divine every moment i am in there. i have my union, activated and radiating my vibration through creation. it's alive, it's sexy and it's now. come on baby what else is there? money won't feed it, new shoes won't feed it, that trip to acapulco won't feed it, i gave up feeding the void and now it's just nourishment feeding me. come on baby, get in the holy groove tube, desires defunct, duality kaput, details don't matter in the big picture, let it overwhelm you with awe, it's beauty and truth. suffer no more, hurt no more, everything ceased and starts again. one wave is never the same, an oceanic lesson is that conditions change, and we change, but conditions also stay true and we should to.  
the universe loves me, it bestows upon me many things in all wonderful diversity, i am everywhere, from dead space out near andromeda heights to the pleasure domes of anteries. galaxies sprawl my synapses, life reigns only to rejoice at the spectacular movement through space time, and there is a plan man, a perfect plan. i see it, i feel it in my old bones and heart and even my brain knows its true. 
my body dissolves,it's atoms and molecules are sub atomic now, i'm not even i, i'm...us.
dissolution is where i will meet you and then we can navigate the last stage. 
  

PLAYGROUP - make it happen

another long day, no time to languish in the weekend spectrum, no time to be, it's time to do. the holy dawn has almost fallen and i'm already driving down the zen freeway, my mind in the fast lane with kate bush turned up high, the pod moves like a blood corpuscle along a empty artery in a beautiful body it can't comprehend. oh look to bridge, the netherworld traversed, oh look to the waters, the dawn of time scattered in light zones, hues of ancient pink and cobalt blue, the sun and the water and the moon. if your a smart reader you  know alchemy at work, it's not as chemical as people think. oh look theres the rest of the human race, zipping here and there on their way to beat the drum. 
i've thought long and hard, pondered the situation i am in. it's so peculiar but then isn't everything i have ever done. my whole vast fucking experience is incomprehensible in terms of logic and reason, it can only be understood in magickal terms of reference, spells i cast all worked despite their glitches and mutations, i perfected the art, the magick flowed, i used it and now it uses me. that's a good relationship, i don't have to do much, just let it all happen
but never have i manifested such a circumstance as this. i have to fall back to first principles, take responsibility. 
the day ends as dark clouds cut across the skies, thunder and lightning, i drive home to beat the hail, the roads are empty again, kate sings, 'gabriel before me, raphael behind me, micheal to my right, urial on my left side, in the circle of fire.'

long days, hot nights, i can't sleep it's stinking hot in old mission control and there's a layer of strange slime all over my old skin suit, i have about four showers and sit under the fan listening to the cure smoking johnny hash and letting my mind do it's thing.

i'm curious about my chaos sphere, it's eight stars are all quite reasonably happy and equal but the old purple one is pointing in a new direction, and that green one just lights up. what the fuck.

anyways, i think about this and that  a million thoughts traverse through the opera of my imagination, mostly singing animals, secret landscapes and waves i have yet to surf. 

then i start thinking about helen of troy, and then i start thinking about girls and women and one pops in my head and i wonder what's the point of sailing if not for a woman. it seems absurd to me. 

what the fuck, again, these thoughts must be free to pop but they are not actually popping, they float around in their helium filled happiness. what the fuck! 

i suddenly realise i need to use the air con, it's not something i do often but tonight is an extraneous circumstance. yes it is, i'm hot and bothered and feeling strangely fuzzy. i should drink beer, after all it's a medicinal solution. fortunately i have some i saved for jake. they lay around for weeks and because i have a fridge full of tahitian limes, i'm thinking perfecto. i knock back two, before my brain starts complying and winding down. i must admit i quite like beer from el salvador, come to think off it i am quite south american in my tastes when it comes to exotic drinks, beers, tequilas and vines. 

the heat becomes manageable once the air con kicks in, i remember its australia day, although it's also invasion day for some, i dunno, what to feel. i mean it could have been the spanish arriving, that would not of had a good ending, it could have been the french, jesus, we may have better culture and art but in the end it was the english. a bunch of idiots who thought they would bring their working class (i'm one) out to van diemen's land. oh never mind the natives they said, we are the english. 

they did that a lot in those old days when there was an empire. the british empire was not bad, it wasn't good either. it was history. no point crying over spilt milk, just have to somehow move forwards, so i don't celebrate oz day any more than i celebrate the queens birthday. i don't celebrate anything really except the fact i inhabit a beautiful planet with amazing things, birds, animals, trees, weird flowers, food and drink, waves, books and girls and fucking incredible music like the church and the cure and david bowie and kate bush and it's all so fucking amazing it blows my mind every second of every day.

anyway back to sailing, yeah even those crazy captains janszoon, cook, and philips only sailed to australia  because their queen had told them to. i can't fathom why a man would sail for any other reason. those trojans knew the score. 

last surf of the week, i sneak on in after work. i've been everywhere today, on the western suburbs of sydney, entering new places that have strange names, i'm taken to harris park, eastern creek, arndell park, austra, leppington, we visit places that have have not even been built, vast housing estates and blocks of land, suburbs in the pre construction phase of development, massive holes in the land, vacant spots where trees grew, and i see where the new airport is going to be built and i see the ages creeping out of the future eating the past, and i see the unborn faces of millions crying for space, water and air and i see the global families marching to temples, mosques and citadels  and i see the face of the future is burning cigarettes and coffee, slow time, unemployment, yellow teeth and burnt out eyes and i see the hordes of people living in their symmetry, and i see migratory patterns played out across decades as chess players in city hall make great plans like colonial landlords always do, i see only the death of nature.
however i am talking about the old testament to my friend, explaining it in terms of consciousness, he's interested in the history because he is a sheik, and he has a history to which he shares. 
much later i am back in the water at terrible beach, and i catch one perfect ride. it's taken me a third of the wave to fully tune in to the wave, i'm so surprised by it's might. the rest of it i'm turned on and activated. yeah i have the bliss now. i'm in a captain mission state of mind, surf, play, love. 
in the twilight i discover a new jamaican place, it's called mumbo jumbo's and i think it's going to be my local haunt. i sip a watermelon drink with mint, look down at the waves and listen to a great busker down the street playing some beats, hip hop that grooves along like a funky summer in key largo, i'm all surfed out now. ready to lay under the fan at mission control and meditate upon my predicament.    

for a long time now i feel like my journey is at an end, imagine a train coming to a standstill and then strangely the landscape and universe move passed the window, they are on their journey while mine is ended or at least at a station. years ago i cast my last  spell and it may just have been answered. i'm about to discover if that is true. it could just be a wishful thought on my part, it could be the beginning or the beginning. it could be the end or start off a possibility or future that actually has a happy ending as well as a happy beginning, the facts are i can't be attached to the outcome only wait for it to arrive.

the station is a good place, i can stretch my legs, focus on my writing, be creative and transverse my inner landscapes. my philosophical enquires passive and true like the calm surface of an ocean, there is nothing stirring under the deep waters, no desires, no needs, no impulsions. around me, people pop with these things. 

over the years i have faced my demons, some i banished others i bound. they serve me well. 

i understand my power, therefore i don't use it.

i know my self and i am true to that, therefore i am at peace.

i know my responsibilities therefore i am a man.

i know my will therefore i have purpose.

i know my karma therefore i have balance.

i know my universe and therefore i have it's love.

all that is left is devotion.

i have wild dreams, in an ocean of turbulence, swept this way and that, through all sorts of ebbs and flows, it's a journey with no destination, i'm carried along where forces take me but i am aware i'm in this dream. when i wake up it's still dark outside.

very early morning i speak with my father, long conversation but there's little to speak about. it's chit chat, his life is coming to  transition, i want him to feel okay about everything, to feel no fear and let go with love and dignity as i will have to, it's sometimes awkward to speak to him about but sometimes he enjoys the affirmation. i tell him there's a new clint eastwood movie called the mule but he does not seem motivated, it's winter and miserable outside. we say goodbye and i drive to the beach. 

the mirror is vast, it's straddles two land masses, reflecting the sky. a gentle ripple flows across it's surface. it's perfect for meditation, not surfing this morning so i cast my mind into the void and fish for information. i feel okay, i'm calm and at peace, i'm getting healthy and being productive at work and in my own life. my desires are simple, i am loved by the universe, i feel it every moment of every day unless i'm on the phone to telstra or dealing with the zombie horde. my garden is fertile, abundant jungle. my needs are met. i hold a space for someone to arrive. i have no expectations, i have no limitations. 

my son calls seeking some advice - be free, don't carry to many things while you are young, be in the moment and open to all possibilities. 

i'm glad he rang me. 

i miss him but he is where he needs to be.

harmony is powerful, a good space to sit in. 

strange dream, a forest filled with old growth, high canopy and shadows, big old growth trunks everywhere. fortunately i speak to trees and the forest is my friend. yeah its a huge protective shield that stops penetration of dark energies, and i am a dark energy. i sit in the woods, under the trees, i whisper to them and they understand, they send messages to their host but protective fields are protective for a reason and take great a certain amount of conscious dexterity to navigate. permission is the key, however communication is a big part of that movement that turns the key. 
the trees agree. 
matters need to be taken into my hands, i'm the captain of this ship and the last thing i want is to end up shipwrecked so i must take certain steps to make sure i am responsible for outcomes and there are no traps, unexploded psychic bombs, imploding neurosis's and renegade phantoms.
i hate doing this sort of thing, it's not that it's confronting it's just that it's revelation and i like to keep things under radars. however i know what i must do.
it must be done.
however first i take my old skin suit for its morning surf , oh wow, big waves, waves so out of control it's going to require skill and coordination to work out how to catch them, i call these waves high frequency waves they come in fast and in close proximity to one another. i'm already in the surf before i think, neptune bids me welcome and is happy to see me, offers me insights and yogic fruition of a few loose ends. 
i can't say these waves can be surfed, they have to much wild energy, inconsistency and chaos breaking down, i dive under one only to be hit by another, it's good but it's not surfing. i'm in there for about 2 hours and realise it's just not going to improve. the ocean however is a violent lover today, i'm getting deep body pummelled and thrown about while enjoying it perversely. 
time throws me back to when i had dreadlocks, i don't know why, jake has fond memories of that time. i guess as i was his prime carer i imprinted upon him with dreads. i shaved them of when they became so popular, i hate being fashionable, it's why i stopped wearing suits. 
these thoughts propel me to another strange decision, it's so random i need to follow it. 
i must go to asia and have some clothes made for me. two suits made from linen, one white or cream coloured, the other black. how did that idea become so dominant, it found its way through my time travel into my mind as an instruction. it's significant enough for me to listen to. later in the afternoon my cousin calls with the idea to take me to thailand for a break. excellent, it's time to smoke a spliff and enjoy the rest of the day.

i'm awake at 4am, after all i did have a very early night, deep dream states i cannot recall, appointments i have no idea if i kept,  just a vague feeling i am where i am.
time slips its bondage, space moves around and i find myself in the ocean at dawn. 
my module sits in it's space with the other dawn patrol modules. old men, the diggers and their brave women are out already, spindly legs, line ravaged features where the elements have invaded, subjects of time, marked by its passing. all off us find ourselves in the ocean at dawn, doing our ritual. 
my fin is looking battered and worn, i really need a new one but i love this one so much, it has been with me since forever and it feels loyal and trustworthy. i guess years of surfing have developed a relationship but i know it to be a tool, and it's time for a replacement. the surf is warm, like a tepid bath, it's ridiculously calm and gentle as i wade out wards, high tide on it's way out so the dynamic is different, no rips, no white water, no turbulence. i straddle a wave but it's not a wave, it's a big ripple. it takes me nowhere. inertia forces me to relax, i float upon my back looking at the sky, my mind calm and still. occasionally i swim out and then wait for a wave but none come so i swim back to my depth. at one point i stand in the light from the sun reflected upon the surface, the golden path. i invoke it's energy and feel it filling my bodies until charged, it's going to be an intense day so this early light is useful, not harsh and burning but tender and nourishing.
by 8am i am back at mission control, doing laundry and domestics chores, determined to make the environment less cluttered and more presentable. it's slightly embarrassing having so many books everywhere, piles up to the sky, walls covered with volumes, shrines to genres. mission control lacks the woman's touch, it's just pure me, and i'm not sure if that's a good thing sometimes. the kitchen is organised chaos, it's filled with items, food supplements  nutrition, condiments but no actual food. when i think about the whole thing it's bizarre  even my fridge has elixirs, potions, plant medicines and herbs. plus my high quality coconut water supply. the only food lies hidden in the freezer where i keep my treasure chest of frozen berries, cherries and acia. 
i have three days off so i commit to a big tidy up.

she has asked to be my muse, she has asked to learn from me my art, my craft but it puts me in an awkward position, not that i am adept when it comes to contorting my way around reality, i can do it but it will require some brutal truths and honesty that she may find uncomfortable and transform friendship into some mutated aftermath or plunge deeper further into something very profound. 

from my position in space time it makes sense, but i am a single sun and around me orbit many planets, most are dead or unsustainable. the truth is i do not require planets, i need a moon. 

is she a moon?

i see vast potential but it's going to be so confronting for her, everything she thinks she knows about me will shift to another level, and i am unaware of her attitude towards an extreme individual like myself. for her it will be counter intuitive for me it is all intuitive. 

is it a risk to disclose such information, i fear it is but then i feel i can work through that in a constructive way. i'm confident in myself but she is a slightly unknown quantity to me.

but women are generally tricky, they speak in tongues. mean one thing act in the opposite, they are complex, ruled by many forces they have no comprehension off, loyalty shifts, commitment wavers, like butterflies they move from one flower to another but i am not a flower, i am a tree and a vine and within my own being lies infinity. 

i once did a course in transpersonal art therapy and although i never stuck around for an exam or completion, i did feel as though i got the stuff down. i've never been one for diplomas, certificates and examinations, i seek knowledge not paper.
some of the content was weak, i think it was two years and the teachers were okay but not one of them had actually done anything vaguely shamanic apart from drumming, and maybe dance. there was no talk about shamanic medicines therefore it was all one dimensional but i did get a lot from some of the exercises. during the course i met a woman whom i recall as being one of the most beautiful women i had ever seen. it didn't hit me like a bolt of lightning, it was slow and easy like a good friendship developing i guess.
things i remember. her ritual was very powerful, possibly the only one that really stood out as authentic to me, plenty of theatre, filled with intent. i saw the energy and release. it stayed with me.  even now i hear the tone of her voice and the look in her eyes. i had no idea what it was about or for and that makes it very powerful because i picked up it as energy.
the first time i really noticed her we were all in a circle drawing and i saw her draw something abstract but quite amazing, her art was possibly the best in the room. she knew how to create, she made it look easy as well. i watched her secretly admiring her otherworldly energy and skill but i was cautious as i knew she was in some sort of relationship and didn't want to mess with anything so i kinda kept a safe distance. 
unbeknown to me she was unhappy and sad. 
when she told me this years later i felt terrible. i really did. i almost wept. it's unimaginable such a beautiful person could be in this situation for so long.
anyway, after the course i only saw her a few times but every time i saw her i was under the impression she was in some sort of perfect world with her partner, so again i never really felt like it could be anything else but friendship. and i guess i was frightened as she is so easy to fall in love with.
so when she turns up again i am strangely affected by her journey. that i could have done something, some sort of intervention, said something, been a better friend. 
anyway, i think i'm going to make her an agent. whenever i think about her it's always good things. she's got the perfect mix for an excellent agent, slightly kooky, beautiful inside and out, has great creative and healing powers and is a good friend. 

strange night at mission control, initiation with the vine for my lovely friend but although all codes are followed the vine didn't kick in. it was internet sourced and in tea form so perhaps it was not powerful enough, perhaps we made a mistake somewhere, all i know is we felt very strange and have turned into vines on the inside. our bodies attempting to get rid of the stuff from our system.
it was a great couple of days however, i really loved being with my friend, she's so special. 
we have embarked upon a magical experiment. i'm somewhat apprehensive as my techniques are extreme tantra, whereas she may not be so liberated. we didn't speak about this and i did offer some alternatives but i don't really know how effective they will be. 
our first experiment was some dream yoga, i love working in astral planes and although it worked my recall was somewhat vague  just an impression of being close. 

it's been about 30 years since i first read money by martin amis, i've changed considerably since then and so has pretty much everything else. i mean i wonder if a publisher would touch such a book now?
i would. it's my kind of book, brilliantly executed, amazing writing and very brave. i'm staggered by the writers skills, his dexterity and obvious humour. what's it about?
man, it's about the voice, one man's voice as he consumes his way through excess. not that much actually happens, sex, violence, drugs and drinking but the voice that narrates the tale is so engaging and entertaining the reader almost is complicit. i love this book. 
late last night i was watching a tv adaptation of john nivens, 'kill your friends' a book i have also read and enjoyed. the main character a rock and roll pr man called steven stelfox reminded me of money's central character john self. i did a little research and came up with a piece published in 'the independent' where john niven reviews 'money' and claims it is his book of a lifetime. he also says he borrowed john self for steven stelfox which makes perfect sense. although john self would be musch better company on a night out.
   

the yearning inside to get back to the ocean grew each moment i was separated, like a true love story distance hurts the spirit. i watch it early morning from my car, still and soft like a gentle surface of lapping affection, the sand almost virgin, the sky washed out and pale like a watercolour running in rain. it's yearning for me, i feel it in my own waters. joy division music.
later i find myself with some spare hours. i drive down again, my body feels slightly better than usual, i seem to be swiftly recovering, antibiotics kicked in work their way through my blood stream.
i find a spot far away from anyone and enter the ocean, it's arms surround me. it's warmth energy embraces me, and i wade out until i am submerged. 
i open my eyes under the surface and only see the cleanest blue, i gaze out and therefore gaze in.
there are no waves but neptune listens to my needs, i wonder if will power will draw one. i ask nice. it does come, a middle sized soft rolling one, no power but plenty of precision. my fin catches it and i soar for a meter or two. a taster i guess. 
i splash around, a few small waves come along and i dive down. when i surface a black sea bird with a long neck pops out with me. i saw 'hello' and it turns in acknowledgement. 
it's an australian darter bird i research when i get home, a magnificent swimmer as well as master of flight.

okay, i suffered greatly for my depravity. man it was a great night though and i'm looking forwards to the next. as soon as i feel better. sore throat, strange fuzzy thinking, clouded logic permeates  reason, my aura leaking savagely. 
i watch waves break, beautiful and tormenting as i cannot access the ocean until i feel healthy. i've taken a few days off to recover. 
sympathetic angels stroke my forehead while cute little demonesses infiltrate my mind. such is the paradox of duality. 
i miss my dad, i really would like to catch up with him soon. i miss my son, we had a great couple of days swanning around the culture bunkers. maybe i'm just punishing myself, maybe it's a reward. it's hard to tell.

i escape occasionally, one long night with a girl from canberra whom has found herself on the coast. she introduces me to her friends who are wicked and i easily succumb to temptation. lust is my sin of choice, given that it's not really a sin and more of a hedonistic endeavour to feel something. we cross thresholds, new boundaries and  landscapes, a whole world of possibilities reveal themselves but like all hedonistic endeavours the next few days i am run down, verging upon illness and feeling very sickly. 
what can i say, women fascinate me. 

driving back after a long hard day at work fixing up other peoples mistakes, catastrophe averted, i wish i got paid extra for this, it would come in handy. anyway's i'm good in crisis, and my job is like crisis management so i manage. 
it's a strange drive, no traffic, slight rainfall, a few minites to midnight on new years eve. i could be at a party with some french girls, smoking exotic weed and sipping colourful cocktails with classy looking fruity decorations but instead i am driving down the freeway looking at the strange landscape, washed out in faint rain and clouds, rock walls all dark and ominous. i play with the radio and people are talking about the last year, bits of news items pop up. politics and dramas, and then in all that shit a story that i really liked, a story about human beings that i think deserves more attention  and it involves an australian doctor. it's the thai soccer team cave rescue. 
if 2018 had anything good, this was it.
google it man, i know those caves, they are hell to navigate and it takes incredible bravery to even consider doing a cave dive. it's the most extreme of sports. 
a united effort by people from all over the planet helped save those boys, and they themselves were helped by a remarkable coach who stayed with them. it's a real story about real people, real heroes and real catastrophe averters. 
so humanity has a chance. a small one but at least it's there. 
come on people, lets see more of this stuff, lets see more heroic altruism and 2019 may be a good year.
happy new year people