the fool has no experience and all experience, they know there is nothing to fear, it's all illusionary and all very real at the same time. the fool steps into the abyss with enthusiasm because the abyss is where it starts, where it ends and where all things reformat themselves like an eternal now. 
the fool is the baby who comes in /out knowing and the dying old man who comes out / in knowing. the secret of the fool is to maintain the fool type qualities through life, that really is living in joy, enthusiasm and celebration because it's all just beyond rationality, logic and reason. 
it's one beautiful experience and the real pleasure is in sharing it even though the fool is alone.

since october 7th i have had a fair amount of death threats, more than usual, mostly from strangers and mostly over the internet, i've been called all sorts of things by all sorts of people, but some are quite nasty and violent. i don't mind, the more people hate me the better i feel, it's like an inverse form of kryptonite, and it makes me stronger although i have to keep my head down, and now avoid being in crosshairs. a moving target, a human doing. 

as for my enemies, well they have never really changed, just the language and the personalised attacks, out of the shadows they came, en masse. everyone seems to know me, everyone seems to comprehend my cultural background or identity much better than myself, and it's interesting as most of these people are really ignorant. these are the zombies, the already dead, the virtue signallers, the ideologists and the idiots who think it's progressive. ha! you have to laugh, and i wonder if many people walked into the gas chambers laughing. i get it now, i understand what my dad was going on about, i wish he were here so we could talk about it but i'm glad he isn't.

'on democracies and death cults' should be compulsory reading by everyone who claims to care about anything. 

the biggest insult is the moronic people who conflate there is a difference between jews and israel, it just indicates a huge level of ignorance in comprehension, it's exactly this type of excuse I see everywhere on social media and society perpetrated by the idiotic 'edukated elegies' who learn everything from the abc bbc or the guardian because it's considered trendy and progressive. you couldn't ask for more dumb media if you asked, except 'the project' which has come to an end.

anyways israel is not beyond criticism, a lot of jews criticise it but usually these jews are socialists marxists and communists, they put their political identity first before their spiritual one, so immediately one must question motives. also within israel there is a massive range of diversity, more than any other nation on earth and a free press. so free it allows 'haaretz' isreal's version of socialist workers weekly to constantly spew out anti israel items, but within israel it has a readership of about 70000 people, significantly less than it's competition and mostly international media who love to promote israeli opinion,  as if it's the majority. 

anyways none of this makes a difference, people still hate jews and use israel as their excuse, and i don't care because it shows me exactly who i am dealing with. zombies.

not sure where, never sure why, i only know what. the ominous presence upon my heels, meddling with the redshift, in phase or out, it's pulling, pushing at the same time and keeps me inert.
i need to endure the stalemate, until it passes. i push the darkness away, as it engulfs and spreads through the battlefield. designed to extinguish light, the army of nightmares and the black sun think they have won. the empires of old reborn into the eternal conflict, i cast out while it pulls me in. the only way to combat this type of tension is to relax and not fight, ignorance is suffocating and spreading, it's enflaming the idiot horde of zombies, but somewhere sometime those that hold the line will find a voice, and the stars quo will fracture. things may move towards entropy but i move towards beauty.

 

the ice age has returned, i hunker down at mission control light the fire and sit as close to it as possible reading my book, the tainted cup, by robert jackson bennett, a fantasy novel which i am really enjoying, it's a murder investigation with a sherlock holmes and watson type protagonists investigating a series of murders where trees grow out of the victims. the world in which they inhabit is ucderseaige from leviathan beasts and divided into concentric barriers to protect them, sort of like vast sea walls that keep the monsters out. it's actually quite a good book, and i'm enjoying the whole idea of a science fiction nerd exploring fantasy. occasionally i do this but when it comes to fantasy i am particular, it cannot be the normal type and cannot be the usual fantasy type characters, i like it inventive and original. 

anyways the day races away somewhere else while i stay in front of the burning flames keeping warm and reading, the fire occasionally roaring and cackling away and all i have to do is feed it and occasionally blow strategically. maybe at some point in time i will cook on it or boil a kettle, just to get that authentic fantasy type vibe.

behind it all (the planck scale) lay the seraphim field, and as i penetrate the veils with a new technique using no force and theta / delta surfing i discover new structures. ironically the human brains architecture is limited in it's perception to see it as thing really are, thus the seraphim appear as light friends, almost angels and quite possibly could be, i just need more engagement to define that use of the word. certainly it's all intelligence but what kind?

yesterday afternoon i plunge myself into the garden, re-landscaping the fish area, clearing out a virulent fern that seems to reproduce itself quicker than i can act. it's a nice fern but jesus it's taking over, and it's roots are very weird. each plant has pods / boubles buried deep like a chain. they are not difficult to pull out but there are so many of them.

later in the light the fire, mission control is freezing until the big logs catch. strangely i'm asleep early at 1900.

 

apparently the moon is cancer, the nurturing mother energy. this explains why i wanna bake cakes and feed people i guess. it may explain why my friends is in hospital with cancer as well. she's my moon, the brightest star in my night on that lonely journey home, years of travelling up the m1, falling into micro-sleeps and exhausted from work, stressed out and frustrated, my lifeline on the end of the line as i follow the moon hanging above the road, the brightest moon in the sky always reminding me to phone the brightest star in my world as she would be awake, and happy to chat, to listen to my ramblings and nonsense, my stories of work wars, my girlfriend dramas. we would just talk and she would always wait until I made it home safe and sound. 

then there's another friend from my avalon years, she has been going through a massive crisis and i can't even get to see her or attend a funeral i really should make an appearance at. two agents, both going through their own stuff and i am helpless. 

it takes a lot to be an agent, someone who has gone beyond the limit of friendship and normal expectations, someone who was there for me and without question helped me face overwhelming odds. to be an agent required something special, a quality long missing from this world, it required proof. a leap of faith. i love all the agents in my life. all two of them.

alternative paradigm man 

it's true, i'm having a weird life, bad news comes in a catastrophic avalanche and suddenly i'm buried under its rubble, coughing and spitting out dust and fucking tragidy. 

my car is off road for a month while they fly in some part from japan, my friends are dying in unspeakable ways , work is on hold while i sort out my life, everyones ill or sick and i seem to be in the crosshairs of it all, kidneys fucked, liver on the way out, teeth fallen out and never repaired and my heart damaged but beating onwards, i wonder how much time i have left. all i wanna do is read the ever increasing piles of books that tower above me, shadows cast in all directions as the weird light filters from all angles into mission control.  i have appointments galore none of which i can make, i have to walk to the shops which is okay but caring shopping bags back is challenging. all i have going for me is my mind. fuelled by psychedelic mushrooms and weed i turn everything inside out with my alternative paradigm zap gun. 

meanwhile a couple of friends offer me a ride down to terrible beach where i can at least watch the surf, drink a coffee and chat. often we walk around the cliffs, getting a look at the different vantage points, the geology and feel the deep time. it's natural, it's life affirming and real, it's my new paradigm, i dive into it and yet i am pulled out. it's a strange pull and push, waves going backwards, wind blowing everywhere, cold bites the skin, and the skien. life seems trapped in the see saw of extremes and polarities. conversations swing from sex parties to blue ringed octopi and i just go with the flow.

sometimes the sunshine activates me, i feel it upon my exposed skin, the backs of my hands, the exposed neck that sticks out my furry jacket. it's good. solar energy is what powers me in the day time. i drink it in.

 

six months later i drive jakob to the airport, he's returning after buying his mum a house and staying with me. it's been fantastic, really great. jake is not just intelligent and self made, he's a great guy to live with, i can't imagine getting on better with anyone else. it's surprised me as i am used to being alone, my way is quite autistic, things in their place, an order within my chaos but jake just follows my flow, he cleans up after himself, he sits and reads and we both watch the same shows on tv. meals are enjoyable, i like to cook and we often have a wine with dinner and converse. 

each morning i go out to the beach and do my climb and meet locals for a chat and coffee while he does his massive jog along the whole beach, and then to the gym. on the way home we usually stop for vegetables and then at home i get ready for work while he does his stuff. we both retire early if possible. he flies into the depths of decaying civilization while i'm left in some kinda rain bomb.

then. calamity after calamity, each day beings it's own calamity, superimposed over the previous like some weird little 3d image, i attempt to make out the picture but it's something abstractly dark. if there is any meaning it's a comparison chart of disasters, shuffle them up and then rearrange them in severity and then things for me don't seem so bad with perspective. the problem is one of empathy, it's impossible to be unaffected by some of the situations friends find themselves in. if i am, it's an eternal sadness, far to deep for tears and words.