before time i was there, a point. everywhere in no time and no space because those things did not exist. in order for me to exist i just had two options

1. stay in this state

2. begin creation

in order to create i required a canvass or medium in which to create. 

i created 3 dimensions, front back, left right up and down. these do not exist in form but are energetic states off consciousness i project in these three directions in equal measure.

i had to move outside myself, but what would i move into if i were everywhere so with these three dimensions i am halfway to creating space. to complete the process i needed boundaries. in order to do this i just need to connect every point to the end of every other point. 

thus the octahedron which is also when viewed at the right angle a hexagram or star of david. 

thus i created space, and moved inside it because boundaries are defined, thus relative movements are no possible.

my single point of consciousness could now move away from a point of central location whereas previously there was nothing to move relative to.

the male is straight lines, esoterically the generating principle.

therefore i created a female curve. this was done by spinning the octahedron around, and it makes no difference which direction because the outline would be the same. a circle.

eve has been created from adam. i created a perfect membrane which still gives me two options:

1. remain static and explore this imaginary shape for eternity

2. or i can repeat the process.

the only difference is i now have a reference point, the spherical membrane in which to repeat the process. it makes no difference where i begin, all points are equal on the sphere. i move to the surface of the membrane, and project another identical sphere. known as the

thus i continue to create another sphere.

i always move to the inner most circle points before projecting another sphere. i do this 7 times in total and create the seed of life.

this basic pattern lays the foundation for the creation of matter and the universe itself. if spun around the central point it creates a tube torus and it is composed of 7 equal segments.

the only shape that can fold in upon itself. 

however i did not cease at seven, i added six more following the same laws, i call this the 2nd vortex motion. then i repeated in the 3rd vortex motion and i am left with what i call the flower of life.

(the flower of life is found through cultures of many civilisations, in one form or another. the oldest was found at the temple of osiris in egypt etched into the stone using a process modern science considers unknown.)

after i created the flower of life i continued adding two more vortex's which result in the final layer, the fruit of life. or what i call metatrons cube. from here i have the template for all creation in the universe. 

this pattern is purely consciousness, it does not physically exist nor is it visible but it is my consciousness.

the universe is a holographic representation, an expression of the creative force of consciousness within structure which ironically and quite paradoxically is also birthed by consciousness. 

i am.

captain mission (terton) receives the information in zip file download, the process is much faster now i have discovered the twin aspect, d plus d. life experience will reveal the details especially if one is versed in traversing the dimensions that are nested within this dimension. i usually accept mini satori's as part of normal existence, my memory states these as 'perfect moments' whereas crowley called them 'ah ha,' and archimedes 'eureka,' the words may be different but the principle is the same. for this tantric ritual the 'terma' (download) must be comprehended completely, there is no room for mistakes as not just the fate of the terton is at risk, the current trajectory of humanity will continue to entropy. my deductive reasoning and research into the art of nemeta explains the lightening flash approach to transmission, i will pass on the data by lightening bolt inoculation encased within joyous rapture. 
the paradox is that despite the hedonistic impulse, i must forget the pleasure and focus upon the weaving of it, thus the direction of energy is where my skill and discipline reside.

finally everything falls into place, it was a strange phase but i have cracked another code, which in turn will assist me control the weird vortexes i seem to have created along my time lines. the process was always intuitive, and i trusted that, the vortex took me where i needed to be. now thanks to the grid map i have of the planet i know what's going on, and how to tweak it for my advantage. the history of the grid comes from prehistory, shamanism, to plato, to buckminster fuller, through some western magickal traditions right to the modern age. 

there is also a theory that connects memory to the grid, specifically memory loss an issue i have had organic problems with but thankfully repaired. the theory is very complex and assumes the concept of simulation, which i am not convinced about but drawn towards as something to disprove to myself. so far the only evidence the universe is not a simulation is many say it would not be so bad, but that's a subjective position. to me it's quite beautiful and i still find fascination when i loose myself within.

the idea that the soul can detach itself from an energy line and therefore loose it's memory alludes to the concept of a circuit. it's not something one can reject totally.

mastering the voids that seem to follow me will be interesting, these vortexes have always been very helpful and i am somewhat indifferent to the experience, all part of my nature, however to control these will change everything. i mastered remote viewing almost 20 years ago, but now it's time to play with einstien rosen a natural progression. the geometric patterns and energy points i listed yesterday will be the key places to experiment with this while conducting my nemeta.

i must find the dakini to do this with, it must be someone whom is safe for the energies involved will be cosmic and powerful enough to transform the planet. i will be vulnerable and require protection. 

  

not often do i come across a book rich with the kind of information i require for my brain, my mind and it's imagination, especially in the autobiography field. biographies are mostly filled with ego based models of constructed fantasy and illusion, the are a few that are breathtakingly bold, crowley's is brilliantly engaging but his smack addiction pours through some of the book as his writing becomes more gregarious as the book progresses, however it maintains it's readability and was illuminating and enjoyable. klaus kinski's biography is brilliant, i loved it yet it probably could never get published nowadays in todays repressive climate. i read dylans book 'chronicles' which is well written but didn't hold me as well as others, but it's hard for a rock star to write a biography that breaks rules and smashes through the idea of bestseller. elvis costello's was middle of the road, steve kilbeys was just like having him pop over for tea and chat about the high and low points of his journey, donald fagan's 'eminent hipsters' was literate and atypical, a real gem, the rest of them not worth mentioning. i would have liked to have read bowies, he would have doe something creative with the genre.however at the moment i am reading, 'voyage to cytherea,' by jaz coleman and i have to say here is an autobiography that is simply outstanding. not only is it well written, well laid out and presented. this is a book filled with information, a totally inspirational book. i don't necessarily agree politically with him but my respect for him has increased so much. i recall seeing killing joke just after their first album was out, a hard funky post punk band with a tribal energy. they were great but after the 'brighter than a thousand suns' album i lost interest as they became harder and more metal based. occasionally i'd hear a track i liked, some melodic type of tune. jaz always was an energy man, onstage and yet he was also a renaissance man, which i am just discovering. this book will disappear for a while so grab a copy while you can, because it will be considered the greatest autobiography by a rock star ever written in time. in fact it's not really an autobiography, its what jaz calls a ludibrium ( a word i had to look up) and it's filled with esoteric knowledge and wisdom. yeah there are verbose moments, but i feel genius has the self capacity to avoid aggregating themselves, and as jaz says in his jungian passages he is composed of many selves. i've very rarely read a book where i completely relate to the persona of the author but i feel like i know this man very well or that we will cross paths. maybe in new zealand  in the not to distant future.  he seems to have uncovered a rich tradition and pursued it with such passion and reverence, while maintaining a hedonistic approach, he conquers intellectual boundaries and penetrates self education, realisation and synthesis or as jaz calls it super synthesis. 

everything, everywhere all at once

history, fail safe, the forgetting of things past the remembering of things future. i have through a series of traumatic accidents and violent blows to the head, with a mixture of conscious brain change, mind expansion and the pursuit of my own individualized abstracted magick sees what's coming by seeing what came before, and when history is laid out before you, in a pool of bile, stomach acids, blood soaked organs and entrails sister, it's easy to read, i'm the high priest of reading, reading is knowing, i know everything, i know so much that i have to store it outside myself in the banks of the dark matter, in the ocean of space. 

dressed in my black robe, the one with the red serpent embossed on the back, in the depths of temple mission control, the future spills out and reveals itself. my  robe splattered in blood and bile, the stink of an abattoir and atmosphere heavy with the taste of metallic doom upon my breath. oh i have seen the future and it made me weep.

the oracle foretell a reckoning, unholy daze, the hanged man, death and the tower a savage omen to reconcile with the savage nature of mankind. the cycle of time cycles onward backwards and forwards, the spinning earth knows where it has to traverse because it has been there before, the ebb and flow. my dark mirror shows me the abyss. only the infinity of the aeon not only stares back, it engulfs my history, and all history, it is as if, the abyss meets the abyss. 

i carefully step over the blooded floor towards my alter, adorned by my athame which is used as a bookmarker in the agrippa grimore, i think i may be able to stop this but it will require a personal sacrifice. some pride perhaps, to save the world or pride before the fall. sometimes when you unwillingly find yourself in the role of saviour or superhero you have to just do something insane. 

the twin flame burns in eternity.

the points upon the planet are revealed to me, i have the meridian map the red centre of the great southern land, lake titicaca, glastonbury, mount shasta, mount fuji, mount kalis in tibet, the crater at maui, somewhere in capetown south africa, lake taupo in new zealand, palenque in mexico,  and of course mount agung in bali. all that remains is to work out the sequence and a suitable partner.

 

the day started the night before when i noticed my tyre was flat, punctured by a nail penetrating the rubber, splattering nitrogen into the atmosphere and corrupting my plan for tomorrow, i sleep on it. the next morning i have a very early appointment down at terrible beach, so i shake myself awake at dawn and get my car tyre fixed, make my connections just in time. it's a big day already behind me, and i have not even had breakfast. i have a big day ahead of me. under the full moon, i meet up with agent wild and we make our way to a town in the shire whose name i can't spell or pronounce, because tonight we are about to see the church play for the first time in years. i literally have been jonesing for them, my soul dried up and wilting. agent wild looking as excited as i am, we disembark at the station and make our way towards the venue. everyone on the streets is super friendly and helpful, i'm getting a strange mild form of culture shock, this part of sydney is very different from the northern beaches, the north shore and areas we know. it's very australian in a classic sense. and inside the venue a multitude of church family reunite for the first time in what must feel like an eon. 

seeing bands these days is a bit tricky for me, not being as youthful as i once was, i can't get into the front and dance around like a teenager anymore and standing up for two three hours invites various spasms, pangs, nerve pains, joint aches etc so we find ourselves at the front but to the side where we have a table, right in front of the speakers. 

the church come on stage, steve kilbey the only original member onstage with some brand new musicians, excluding ian huag whom   has been playing with them for a few years and craig wilson whom has been playing with them even longer. although not an official church member craig is part of the furniture to me, his parts would be missed.

the church onstage are like nothing else, immediately i relax into some sort of weird bliss, an altered state i feel at home in. however sitting in front of the speaker was not such a great idea as a wall of sound engulfs me, feedback, distortion and discordant sound waves, the mix not good, the venue didn't feel right but the audience were great, enthusiastic and appreciative. the church kick off with destination, then progress with a great selection of songs and one new one. for the encore i slip towards the front and enjoy a more clearer sound, perfection. steve still exudes positive energy onstage, he's healthy and radient, a real inspiration. i reflect on the many things i have learnt from him, ambient things, the information that never gets quantified, things like devotion, authenticity, humility, humour and honesty. i can't say i know steve well but i travel along a similar path, and without him i would have been lost so i feel grateful. 

when the church play 'block' i smile, a perfect song, a brilliant song, majestic in many ways. i like the new church, same as the old one but different enough to notice. a different type of sound, a different type of feel yet true to the classic principles fans adore. i'm looking forwards to the new album, to the next church gig, and as i stand outside with steve and company i can only imagine how wonderful it would be to travel around america watching them on tour. it would make for a great book / film/ tv show / podcast.

i get home at 4am. start work at 6am. i shower, change clothing and head back down that highway, happy and content.

my cosmic radar attuned and accurate again, picking up frequencies directing me in line with my own navigations. i am on track. first mission control, a few more constructions,  my kitchen area needs a new look and i'd like to convert my garage although i don't know where to begin, i feel it will happen this year. another issue is the garden which after all that rain requires a vast incursion, hacking back the jungle that has grown over the last few months. i plan to cultivate some new resources, however this will require some adjustments. finally the most simple task of all will be a-fixing a shade sail to my deck so i can buy some garden furniture and enjoy the winter sun while sipping on my tea and reading in the mornings. the shade will keep part of the deck covered from elemental forces and offer me a protected area to enjoy in summer. these laborious tasks will give me something to ground myself with while i focus upon the next phase of life. abundance, is close at hand. it surrounds me, it radiates from my pores like invisible light, people begin to feel it although they cannot understand it. it is growing, it fertilizes, nourishes and sustains. and like all things that make people feel good, acts as a drug for people who get to close, which is why i like a little bit of protection.

very sad to read of the death of one of my fave actors, mr. william hurt who i admired a lot. we actually have a strange history as after watching him in ken russell's 'alterd states, which was based upon the experiments of dr. lilly a man i had greatly admired not just because of his work with leary but he invented the float tank and researched them under the influence of mescaline and lsd. i'd watched the original movie in london and it had influenced me greatly, i still recall blair browns line after that infamous sex scene where she says, 'sex to you is like a religious experience.'

how can you have sex after hearing a line like that that and ever wonder about the religious experience of it. i did.
the next time i saw him was in australia in the movie 'children of a lesser god' for which he won an award and then later 'smoke' which is based upon a paul auster story which he developed into the screenplay, in which william hurt played paul, the main character.  this was an incredible ensemble film, independant and yet with some heavy weight actors and the story, like all austers work was both funny and tragic and thought provoking. 
william hurt returned to my life in a very strange way when i started going out with a canadian girl who had worked in the hotel where william had stayed while filming, 'children of a lesser god.' 
she told me how every night he would return to the hotel and get so drunk in the bar she would have to walk him to his room, take of his shoes and tuck him into bed. yet the following morning he would return to the set and complete filming.  apparently this went on for the duration of the production. she spoke very highly of him, but of course it was all abstract to me, until i crossed paths with william hurt in sydney many years later when he was filming 'dark city.'
at the time i was doing a lot of acting, i must have stood out as i was being cast in quite a lot of different productions, mostly tv shows, commercials and occasionally movies. my agent said i was her wild card, and would send me off to these strange locations. often i would be cast as an undercover cop, or a criminal. usually a drug dealer or pimp. one summers day she sent me to balmain for a role in a film. i turned up at 5am and wardrobe dressed me in a suit, it looked like a zoot suit and when i walked onto the set there indeed was a jazz scene being filmed. it was a small bar/ restaurant with a few tables and a small stage at the other end. the band were a bunch of back guys all in immaculate suits as they jammed some jazz blues numbers out, and the lead singer was a glamorous girl in a glorious emerald dress that looked stunning as she swayed there in front of a mike stand, it was the goblin kings nemisis, jennifer connelly. the bar was filled with smoke from a smoke machine and i took a place next to a tall guy who was standing up in a trench coat and hat. the guy turned to me, he was a fellow budding actor i had worked with before and while we were waiting for the director to finish placing people we exchanged hello's. 
as i didn't have or ever watch tv i never bothered to ask what shows i was acting in, i never saw any of them anyway but i felt obliged to ask my fellow actor what his role was. he looked at me and said, 'i'm just the stand in.'
i had no idea what a stand in was, so i asked him. 
'i'm basically here for continuity, i stand in for the main lead actor and when they are ready to film he returns to where i am and i leave the set.'

'how long have you been doing this,' i asked.

'about four weeks since we started filming, it's really boring but the film looks pretty good, the sets are amazing.'

'what is this film?'

he went on to describe this sort of science fiction, fantasy story but even he didn't now the full story, and to be honest i kept phasing out as jennifer connelly competed for my attention. 

so after about thirty minites i asked the inevitable question, 'so who you standing in for?'

and there it was, william hurt.

at first i had to ask if it was the same guy i had seen in some of my fave films, including, 'until the end of the world' which i had watched about a week previously with my canadian girlfriend. 

'what's he like,' i asked.

'he don't speak to anyone. i've been working with him for weeks and he has not said a word, he only speaks to the director, he comes on, does his lines and disappears. he wont even speak with the rest of the cast. he's really weird, he gets the bus to the set everyday as he stays in a motel somewhere in western sydney, he refused the limo and won't even catch a taxi.'

mmm, how ironic i thought, i'm going to be standing next to one of my fave actors and i will not be able to say a word. 

it seemed like hours but eventually the director came on, my friend said goodbye and disappeared. the director got everyones attention as he cleared his throat and gave us a serious pep talk.

'now william will be here to do his scene very shortly, he's just finishing with make up. i want you all to remember, do not engage with him, he does not like talking, he will just come on do his lines and go, so everyone take their positions and we will start in about two minites. and sure enough in two minites william hurt dressed in a trench coat and wide brimmed hat was standing next to me. he looked at me, actually looked down at me as he was much taller and then to everyones surprise he introduced himself to me, he stretched out his hand and we shook, i could feel his pasty skin, pale and fragile, an ex alcoholics skin. 'my names william but you can call me bill.'

and thus we began an incredible conversation, while the whole room just stood with the jaws wide open and tried to figure out who he was talking to. in fact when the director wanted to start filming william held up a finger and said, 'just a moment alex.'

no one could believe their eyes.

we spoke about a few things, about float tanks, lsd, john lilly, we spoke about wim wenders and how there was a 5 hour version of 'until the end of the world' floating out there waiting to be released. we spoke about william hurts time as a young man in western australia where he was a jackaroo, we spoke about paul auster and the film smoke. he confided in my a conflict he experienced with paul auster. we spoke about music, about cities we had been to and i told him a little about how i ended up in sydney and we spoke about girls. then when there was a natural pause he just looked at me, shook my hand again in earnest and with a sparkle in his eyes said, 'i guess we better do some work, it was a pleasure meeting you.'

when i got home i wondered if i should tell my girlfriend about the strange meeting, and i wondered about her and own meeting with william hurt but for some reason i just kept quiet.

anyways vale bill hurt. an interesting gentleman and a fantastic actor. 

 

on the eve of my 60th birthday i am stuck in a johnathan lethem's utopian novel 'the arrest' which is refreshing in subject matter, i mean who don't like the idea of small farming communities growing organics and weed, a society where most of the machines no longer work, yet this novel is a chore, a bore in some ways. i like his writing style, it's very readable and easy but the story is just, dull. it has a super machine which is a cross between a giant drill and a thunderbirds, but for most of the book it just makes good coffee. i mean i need more, much more. 
so i walk along the beach looking at the deluge left by high tide, it's devastation all the way, not just the huge amount of seaweed but the wooden remnants of wrecks, trees and ancient history. where does it all come from, where does it all go?
it's shark attack weather, it's not raining, today must be the first day in months where there is no rain. everything is damaged and pools of water are everywhere. it's overcast with huge threatening black clouds, and i have time. time to drink a coffee, read a little and maybe write some e mails.