oh ho ah ha

the area 51 in my head woke me up late night somewhere between a fantasy and a dream, i dunno, sometimes it gets hard to tell what's what in my dusty old head. i'm not even in my bed, i'm sprawled on my reading chair, a paperback sits in my lap and my tee shirt is covered in drool. there's a white light coming down the ceiling in a cone and i'm inside the beam, no sunglasses, no hat, no idea. things like this happen and over the years I have figured out as a writer you just have to go with it, until you can write about it, so I just find myself surrounded by some sort of levitating ray. 

at one point i no longer know if it's up or in or down or out, it's a direction of some kind. the cells and atoms that make up my body are pulled apart and stretched, they are elongated and contracted at the same time, my body feels like that stretchy chap from the fantastic four, mr. fantastic only i'm captain mission, and apart from some basic yoga i'm not so stretchy. there's no pain or discomfort, just a strange pull in a new direction.

eventually the sensation ceases and i find myself standing in a spongy room, not really easily but it's soft and despite my falling down several times doesn't seem to hurt, in fact it's probably spongy to keep me safe.

the voice that speaks is that of a strangely friendly alien intelligence, 'are you gary?' 

'who wants to know?'

'i'm called robert'

'i'm called captain mission.'

'oh, well in that case we have made a big mistake. sorry. we are looking for a gary.'

'you got the wrong guy.'

the cone of white light appears and projects me back down or up, in some new dimension, back onto my chair at home. all as if nothing weird happened.

'what the fuck was that all about?' i ask no one and get no reply.

 

a long drive south to hurricane petrina country, to break up beach and those old haunts, god-awful mosman with it's pretentious twits in bmws and designer clothing, with it's double bay double pay inadequacy and all to meet a certain character who has fame and respect up on the coast, a healer and dealer and lovely old doctor who seems to have tapped into actually healing people as opposed to keeping them sick. 
we stop at balmoral beach for lunch, and then into the town for the appointment. doc ranga is amazing, we get on very well, he's a really cool man. i tell him about my trips to sri lanka, and we discuss how much we enjoy america and how much i hated being a kid in london.
ranga takes my blood, he has just placed a drop on the slide and already determines it's toxic with heavy metals. under the microscope he finds the reason, mercury poisoning from my fillings in my teeth. when I was a kid at skool the government sent dentists into skools to work on kids teeth. these dentists were paid per filling and obviously being fucking crooks they drilled fillings into every kid who was unfortunate enough to attend. even if they had perfect teeth. decades later this was exposed but as usual the victims had no power in their situation, just years of slow death. anyways, dr. ranga showed me the live blood cells and how damaged they were, even the white ones were much smaller than they should be. he suggested the solution would be oxygen and demonstrated this by giving me some oxygen and doing another blood sample. sure enough the difference was noticeable. very noticeable. so there was that. then there was my coughing, and he suggested i use a compound of tea tree oil and vapour which he made for me. he said the cough was possibly heavy metal toxins as well.
we also looked at the vaccine damage as well, and that was nothing new. 

later on the drive home i managed to dodge the traffic and made no time, even managing to attend drumming for the first time in months. that was lovely, big moon on the water, lots of people, i bashed the skins and made a racket. ate some hash cake and returned home late where i worked on my novel and fell asleep around 3am. 

another beautiful day, i'm down at the beach early no surf at all, flat and clear as a translucent pancake, the sun is already intense. everyone is there, meet and greets, i'm not really in the mood although i could use a coffee. i chat to danni about dating in the modern times, we have a giggle about how confusing it all is. a random man comes along and tells us about how he was arrested and then beaten up by the police last night. it's a horrific story and given the local polices record i don't doubt him.

i take the car through the car wash, it's a big day, i return to work, have a few things to do. i'm writing a bit, finally getting an idea I been incubating on for a few years, it's a huge story and spans eons, it's hard sci-fi and it's complex so a big challenge. but this is my big story, the one my imagination threw at me, and I like it as an idea. it's got everything including a mad scientist or wait, is he sane. anyways, it's going to take a while to complete and tidy up, i think i will need an editor for this one. 

i haul myself to a party catch up with a hard of people, they blitz me with questions, food and drink, i don't eat anything but have some water. there's some people surf i with there, they have heard about an altercation i had this morning with a feral woman who decided to enter a conversation with me, she was very aggressive and antagonistic. she was stumped by me and as usual i had to confront her with her own truth. she hates males, she was hurt in a relationship and probably others, she's surrounded by a defensive system that is nasty and unfriendly and hostile and she picked a fight with the wrong guy. she leaves but i have read her aura and energy, she is left wing, sexually repressed, hates men although secretly wants one, she's wrapped up in causes as she is a lost one, she virtue signals, she's desperate to be liked but she isn't and she craves attention but only gets negative attention as very few people like her. i could have put her out of her misery but my friend intervened and he ended up taking the hit. later we went for a walk and sat in the sun.this seemed to be the main topic at the party, word had got around i had involved myself with this woman and everyone was confessing how difficult they had found her. 

i don't know, she wasn't really difficult just a waste of energy. I can let go very fast of situations like this, they just bore me, but seem to entertain everyone else. 
i see a few there people, we chat, we light a big fire, i want a joint but no one is smoking so i make an excuse and leave.it's very early but i'm not a party guy, i want a joint, and i have an early morning. the drive home is lovely through the narrow streets in the country, stars above, clear night, perfect. 

 

finally out and about, no longer exhausted or sleep deprived, look at those bags under my eyes, i am alive and kicking, healthy and happy, just chilling out. the last few months have been nuts, totally insane and it's my own fault, just taking on far to much without thinking about my own needs. 

the sun is out obliterating fears and tears, the people all stop to say hi, i must have a good energy about me, no more sickness or weird karma, i'm back from the land of the dead. 

with time out, time off the world is my oyster baby.  

i have not been to drumming for a few months now, something is stopping me, the cold, the wind and the lack of motivation due to the cosy situation mission control offers with it's fireplace and soft music, plus the opportunity to write and read. i'm well into book two of eisenhorn, 'malleus' which is brilliant. set almost 100 years after the first novel we segue into areas of the first novel that have been left unresolved and the team uncover an even bigger conspiracy within a conspiracy. i'm loving abnett's writing, and wish he would team up with reynolds, those two would complement one another very well.
they are currently on a hive planet called by the imperial inquisition to attend a huge summit where the empire will demonstrate it's success in a very big parade that has been sabotaged. abnett describes this on a huge scale, it's utterly immersive and so massive in scale. and that's just the prelude. brilliant stuff.

the other news is.

and it is big news.

lacuna has a release date, two new tracks are out, both brilliant but 'western' turns me on in that classic way, it's quite brilliant. i'll post it soon, i'm sure the band won't mind, but please buy the cd. i really don't want this to be the last one, i feel there's one final album to make, and they are not there yet. it' strange but i know when it should be, and it's possibly the next one. anyway's lets just stay on lacuna now, two years in the shadows. it's coming next month.

what a predictable write of yesterday was, as i mentioned i was burnt out, not something that happens often, maybe once before in a 40 year career but i know my limits which is why i pleaded for a day off, after all it was only a short six hour shift but my boss said i had to do it.
even the drive in was harrowing, my faculties are down, my mind was spinning and unfocused and i knew as soon as i hit the freeway i should not be doing this. when i arrived at work she asked me how i was and i was honest, 'i'm fucked, exhausted, i shouldn't be here.'
the result was a car crash, i won't go into details but it was not pleasant. still i have to run around like an idiot and do everything for everyone. 
the drive home was precarious.
this morning after a good sleep and rest i feel much better, almost back to myself. I manage to get to the beach and watch the surf roll in, it's windy and a bit cold. my coffee cost me $7.20. i have to find a new haunt. i sit in the sun, after about ten minutes the sun begins to warm my skin. it feels good. 

i go home. it feels good still.

on my last legs, mentally, spiritually, physically exhuasted with a few more hours to go until i drive home along that superficial highway, into the night of lights, the edge of night and here i am just catching my breath after a fucking long and hard day. i'm spent. i asked for tomorrow off, i'm so run down and just want to stay home, do my laundry, clean my floors and tidy up the garden but my boss said no. it's fucking disgusting, i'm burnt out, you can see it in my eyes but she is so lost without me, she is making me come in. it's fucking nuts.
anyways, no point in complaining, just gotta keep on going. even these clients know i'm done, and give me a wide birth. 

i daydream about the new nissan narvaro pro x, it's a sexy beast and would be a completely different driving experience than my c-hr hybrid. but there's something about diesel and bit fucking chunky tyres. i think about the flooding and tree debis up where i am, the off road terrain, and i figure i'd enjoy long drives in the wild parts of the coast. no one would fuck with me on the road. i'd be a living breathing springsteen song. then the fantasy fades to just travelling down to melbourne for a break, hanging out in some quiet pub where everyone sips stout and reads quietly. yes it's true my brain is pouring out all over the place, it's not going anywhere near europe though, it does feel a gravitational pull to florida and new mexico. it certainlty slides away to asia, but to be honest all i really want to do is sit on the throne at terrigal and go surfing. ah, the cure to all my blues.

 on the second warhammer book after finishing the first, eisenhorn is a pretty interesting inquisitor general,  with a collection of strange bedfellows. i read a couple of short stories that bridge the gap between the first and second novel and they were very good.
malleus starts strong, a cracker of an opening so i'm curious to see where it all goes from there. dan abnett is such a confident writer, i'm turning pages fast but also enjoying his imaginative and descriptive turn of phrase.

work is killing me, I did about 60 hours in 5 days which is nuts, and i still have tomorrow to get through from 0900 until 2300. it's crazy, i'm not only exhausted i'm a little burnt out. at least i have a string of days off afterwards, just hope the sun is out.

it's a strange old life, one moment you are here the next you are there, one second you have a plan the next you don't, one second girl a says she loves you, the next she hates you. who can fathom it all out, not me. i just wake up and breathe and then count my blessings, one two. gotta keep it all very simple at the moment, no complexity or drama, you get to a point where it's all just life or death. somehow, some remarkable way i am still alive, waking up breathing, i'm not quite sure how i did it. did i do anything? it really is bizarre after everything. now this. 

anyways, i drag myself out of bed after no sleep, the early morning is cold, i shake of the 5am blues with coffee and a hash cookie, contemplate going to work early and just stopping at brooklyn for a coffee but instead i make one here at mission control. i get my coffee from lulu's who probably is the best coffee girl on earth, her blend is amazing, the perfect brew. at some point i have to get in the car and head south but it's still quite early. time enough for another chapter of warhammer. 

 

driving around, severe different cars, many stops and detours i finally get to where i have to be. a number of people greet me as i walk inside, it's not something i want or like, my boss is staring at me, she's always shocked by how many people know me and probably slightly intimidated. even her boss knew me in a past life and spoke very highly of me to her which she found somewhat uncomfortable. i don't ask for special treatment, i just have a reputation, in this industry. 

i sit through five hours of idiocy, mind numbingly boring childish presentations and talks, not really anything i didn't know,  there's no highlight or point of interest. the drive home takes a while due to skool traffic, i dunno, i just want to get away from these people. back home i bunker down and enjoy some evening sun. i'm tired need some time out but have to work for the next week straight. i need the money i guess and in the late afternoon i ring my bank and convince them to lower the interest rate on my loan. they do, and i calculate  i can pay of my home sooner than i thought. that's good news, right? other good news is old mission control is holding it's value. 

basking in dawns sunlight, upon the blue throne with monique, discussing the animal attraction as we watch women pass by, we wander of road and onto the rock where she takes me to a sacred place far from the crowds. it's amazing, vast rock structures reveal the geology of time, the water eating away at the earth, the strange fractal patterns and weblike indedentions. we push further south, past the basking seal, past the fishermens blues, past the turquoise ocean. it's all so magnificent, exhilerating. there we decide to go to see ranga, the mystical sri lankan alternative healer in mosman. he's a charachter. most people i know have seen him and told tales of recovery and success. we make the call and speak to a lovely lady with an personality that ooozes friendly vibes. as we have to pay a deposit i suggest i will pay using my card when i get home, monique only uses cash.
on return home i ring the surgury and the lady asks me a question, 'did you live in avalon once upon a time?'

it turns out it's an old freind iola, a really amazing lady who was quite unique and always stood out from the crowd. we chat about our lives for a while, and then she asks where i live now, she's in the blue mountains. when i tell her the coast she is amazed as she's thinking of moving up. well look me up if your in the hood, i say. we swap numbers and make a commitment to catch up. 

that's how it works, sometimes. that's the way i like it to work, chance, synchranicity and equal measures fate sometimes guide you where you need to be, i'm done fighting things that fight me. resistance is futile. i'm stronger than ever now.

the next few days i get a bit battered and beaten at work, but i take it on the chin, roll with it, it's an awful week, no time off and just one day rolling into the other with a huge work function on thursday where they will patronise us and treat us like 5 year olds. it's demoralizing but at the end of the day we are all prostitutes. 

i'm listening to a bit of leonard cohen, nick cave, some dylan, i read a huge warhammer book which is so much better than you would think, man the black library are amazing but they need to increase their print run, their books are very hard to find. i particularly like the omnibus editions, and currently the eisenhorne one is fucking mind blowing. yeah dumb cover but you know what they say about judging a book. 

eisenhorn is an imperial inquisitor, he's like a dectective with authority from high and he's on the case and chase of an occult terrorist cult. it's super fast paced, unpredictable and ingenius writing by dan abnett. 

 

later i check the appointment for ranga and it's not for another week, once again time displacement, and in that moment i understand how the shadow of this weird affliction has effected me over my life. i don't and will never use it as an excuse, it certainly will never define me, but it's part of a rich tapestry of my identity. 

  

 

i seem to sleep forever, a good deep sleep, and when i rise it's dawn.
although there are surfers out the water looks messy, so i sit in the sun on a bench and read for an hour, my skin absorbs the sunlight and heat, it's perfect and whatever nutrients the body requires from sunlight, it feels replenished.
a few people call me, checking up, it's nice of them, a few people say hello and although i'm not feeling sociable, it's appreciated. jake calls and we chat, martin calls and we chat. then after basking in the glorious morning i head back via the chemist. pay some bills and by some bread. it's all so expensive and it seems the more you work the more you have to pay. anyways what can you do. 

I'm seriously considering a trip away, melbourne perhaps, a week in the city, it's a place i always liked and there's lots to do, good bookshops, coffee, art, interesting specialties for special interests. then my mind imagines a week at the beach, catching waves down at terrible, just hanging out. it's cheaper and easier. but Melbourne has a great bagel shop. in my homer moment my brain splits in two, one bagel side fighting and arguing with the beach, bagel or beach?

driving back from hospital at 0500 the first ray of light almost penetrates the landscape, my driver points out the two new towers that engulf the towns skyline, the strange development of a dead zone, a lack of imagination and art. we head towards my place where I have a quick shower and wash of the wax from my hair, little sticky bits of monitoring pads cover my body and as I pull them away i make a little tower of my own.

10 mins later we head to the beach, the sun rising now, people out and about, it's packed so we go to the north point and park. across the road is a cafe i never liked. about 12 years ago i waited 45 mins for a coffee and swore i would never return. and today i went in, it's been totally refurbished and looks like a place that would naturally repulse me, the waitress is the most miserable lady ever. i'm indeed repulsed by the whole place but it's far from the crowds and i can have a quiet coffee free from noise.

the clouds come rolling in, rain due. it's a tiny shower and passes fast, sun returns, we head home. it's been a strange night, and i find myself crashing out for a few hours. 

mmmm, apparently i suffer from something called time displacement syndrome, which means I don't process time in the same way most normal people do, it's part of the autistic spectrum, and bubbles was the first person to identify it. it's what I always turn up a day early, or get appointment times wrong, or constantly have to check the time and date and diary so i don't fuck up. eg, hospital is tuesday, not monday as i mentioned earlier. the correct term is temporal disorientation which effects temporal orientation and sequencing. it's sometimes known as time blindness in adhd circles but in my case temporal distortion is more accurate as I don't have adhd.

this explains quite a lot, and although i am not hung up on this label it certainly helps me understand what i am so fucked up when it comes to linear time.

working weekend, no time to think about anything much, hospital on monday, again. there's a lot going on and i don't know if i am coming or going. nights are sleepless, the full moon last night was amazing and it's reflected light entered me like a bathtub filled with water. it was an amazing feeling and possibly explains why sleep was impossible and why i felt so charged. bubbles calls out of the blue, i'm pottering around after midnight, she's funny, makes me smile. i miss her. we chat until i start coughing.

the morning is blurry, lots of fog, lots of driving, lots of brainwaves flying all over the place, i try to focus but it's difficult after no sleep for a few nights. i cruise into sydney on coffee power and adapt to work. sigh, it's going to be a long day and then at least i am off for a few days. yay!

 what's the frequency mission?

life knocks you down, it kick hits you when you least expect it, it fights dirty and shows no mercy. it's screaming in your face, what's the frequency mission? there's no let up, you can't even answer the fucking question because the blows keep coming. days later in recovery, the sun slips out, the birds make an appearance and the fish start leaping. for the first time you remember you are alive this is what it feels like. yes, a little pain and some throbbing from a few bruises but that photon ray feels good upon your skin, the taste of negative ions on your tongue neutralises any ache. you can smell lavender, spring is coming sooner than later, even the birds herald its arrival.

the morning is overcast, clouds roll by threatening a downpour, and i really should be asleep but instead im watching dawn enter like a mahler tune, the ocean looks uninviting and angry, it's tinged an angry grey, and choppy waves scream, 'stay away.'

from up where i am it all seems far away, this new spot, cocooned in sipping coffee that tastes more like chicory, munching on sourdough toast with a cheap thing peanut butter. i dunno, i'd splash out a little myself but it's not my cafe. the music is pure 70's middle of the road rock, it's awful. but i'm shielded from the elements and protected from a cold wind.

i've left my book in my car so have to make do staring out at the world, my exhuasted brain can't make sense of it. all i want to do is fall asleep but i have to go to work. 

work is busy, it's nuts, everything is distorted and everyone is demanding of my time. i'm finding myself burning up from heat, as though my body is just steamed up. there is no respite. the guy i work with is okay but a bit stupid, has no insight really and just makes life harder but making so many mistakes, everything he does is half hearted and i have to correct. at one point in the evening i catch my reflection. heavy dark bags under and around my eyes, i look terrible. a spectral figure, half dead. i'm a little freaked out, a little scared at my appearence. some audtor is on site and comes over to interveiw me, she's asking me loads of questions and although i answer them correctly i feel myself wanting to scream and bite her. it's just me, being overtired, being pushed to a limit. i somehow manage to answer all her questions and make her laugh. luck.

by 2130 i feel myself fade, as though my race is run. it's a surrendering, i just give up. all the fight is knocked out of me now, i just no longer care. when the race is run, it's run. 

hospital tests, still no answers just more referrals and specialists, the merry go round of medical model is costing a fortune as well as burning up time. the longer I spend in the world of man i know it's all held together with a piece of string and some sticky tape.

anyways, i hunker down in the bunker, get the fire going, settle in for an early night. i've read a few books, the first in a series by douglas preston, relic. a sort of thriller set in the npc natural history museum, which is quite a reasonable page turner. then flesh which won the booker prize and as usual, big disappointment, although it's well written the story is just nothing to write hime about, a sort of rise and fall from grace. i dunno, i expected more.

currently watching 'the changeling' a tv adaptation of a victor lavelle novel, it's good, i'm enjoying that, somewhat magical realism with a touch of horror but wow, the acting is good. they have just made a new series from his other brilliant book, 'the devil in silver' which i am looking forwards to seeing. but to be honest all tv is a disappointment after foundation. 

 

insomnia, pottering around in the dark, half hearted attempts at reading, writing, watching something on tv, listening to the ambient sounds, eating toast and drinking mushroom drinks, the whole night is a torture chamber as all i want is to drift off and sleep. 

i used to have friends i could count on, night friends. i knew they would be awake and we could often meet up and talk, go for drives, smoke weed, wander along the beach under the stars but now i am literally alone. unable to even entertain myself as boredom and disinterest kicks in, my brain cannot focus on anything for any length of time. 

at dawn i do some laundry, i survey the rooms for my next tasks, those high ceilings need a clean as does the fireplace which has been working overtime.

it's 0910 when shayne rings, he's taking me out for breakfast and tells me to be ready to be picked up.

after a very good sleep I head down to the beach at dawn, it's a gorgeous day, the surf looks amazingly clean and the tide is out, swimmers are already enjoying wading out not the deep, not a wetsuit in sight. it takes me a while to park, so many people out and about, cafes packed and shops seem to have opened early, it is indeed a glorious morning. I meet a few people before heading off on my walk, I cannot enter the ocean yet as my cough is still bad, but it is nice to feel the sensation of sunlight upon my skin, it's nice to chat to a few people, laugh a bit and walk along the beach. i pass the seal who has just been for his swim, he's laying in the shadow of a big rock, a crowd of people stare at him. i walk towards the big place opposite the skillion, it's just had a revamp and looks like a generic club now, i sit down inside and have a coffee looking out at the playing field and hill where dogs chase balls, kids throw them, parents wander around in bliss and i gaze down feeling relaxed and content. this is a new start to the day i think, a good feeling. i understand there's a lot to do today, clean car, shopping, housework and preparing for the cold night but in this moment all is good. peace. 

later as i walk back i bump into some people i know, we have a laugh, swap war stories, it's hard to talk as i cough violently, and everyone wants to know how i am, where am i on my recovery, what does the doctor say? it's hard to keep saying the same thing over and over, keep telling people it's ongoing, there are no answers and that the tests are still in process. everyone wants definitive answers and it's frustrating as i do as well, but i don't have them so nothing i say seems to satisfy anyone.

i make my way back to mission control, wash the car, do some laundry, do a little shop and then read a few things online. i'm still feeling   the peace. it's good. i do some garden work, slowly and methodically, just rip out some dead stuff and gather some branches, i attempt a pond clean but fail, it's rigorous and I don't have that rigour right now. 

 a 3am phone call and it appears whatever rift has occurred is now healed, it feels strange as though both parties were in some strange communication breakdown, but it gives me a chance to air a few grievenences and concerns. i don't know what it means, i explain my sickness and the seriousness of the last few weeks, how hospital investigates, how a clusterfuck of pneumonea, uti, migraine, food posioning and this terrible cough have put me on my knees. i'm not the dead man walking i was, more of a living man stumbling around somewhat dazed and confused. then there's my inability to sleep at night, three nights now, just pottering around stoking the fireplace and watching 'foundation'. again, possibly the best tv show ever. i'm loving that stuff, it's just vast and cosmic and brilliantly executed. well into series 3 now, and this mule chap is playing his hand.

interesting conversation with my friend danni this morning, it's the only time i seem to be able to communicate without bursting into a coughing fit from the exorsist. we sip coffee and nibble toast in the sun at some swanky club, outside the sun has risen up over the horizon and burns up into the daytime, blue skies, electric sensory pulsations, winter light, the soaring pelican flock, the seals basking upon rocks. dogs run riot, everyone stops to look at something and up in our cocoon danni informs me about her theory about the fall of civilisation starting with the contraceptive pill. i disagree. we talk about modern feminism and there we find a common ground. 

this sort of conversation is interesting, for here are two people who are opposed discussing a contentious issue but with respect for one another points of view and the difference of opinion. there's no shouting, name calling or resentment, it's just a conversation. like the old days when people were not so caught in their little ideology bubble, enslaved by their positions imovable orbits. 

danni's book will be out soon, a true history of her dating adventures, she's a very good writer and hilarious to read. we talk about our disappointments in relationships, our low expectations sinking lower, and the fact than now everyone is just miserable in them they have to operate as a business venture to work. again i disagree, once love becomes business it's finished. it's not that simple, binary. love is a multi faceted word, it operates on multitudes of dimensions, and cannot just be pragmatic alone. it's not always about happiness, compromise or romance. it's a verb, which means it's action, movement and constantly changing, shifting gears and in and out of one role into another. what it is and has to be is commitment. and there in lies the fatal flaw in the system, for most individuals commitment is an extreme sport. 

to commit to something is to put ones knowledge and experience to the test. and unless it's equal the test will fail. one cannot be more committed than another and expect it to work, it must be equal. equilibrium must present itself as safety, and once safe, both parties can move forwards. 

the afternoon appears now as present, time fritters away like pineapple rings on a bbq, everything smells good, there's anticipation within the air, dancing like pinpoints of light upon the wings of angels, i gather my things, motivate myself into action, movement. 

the end of the fairytale, the prince awakes in a cold sweat, his face aged and haggard. dark rings encircle his eyes and his skin suit is crumpled and worn. he's in a dark room, engulfed by sheets, blankets and a thin quilt, a strange form of daylight filters through closed shutters and still flat upon his back his hands feel around the edges of the bed, finding nothing, and as long fingers adjust themselves deep under the layers of blankets they wrap around the mobile phone. it's dead. 

the shower feels very good, it's hot and vital. for what must seem like over a week the spectral figure is upright. his stomach stable, none of those tremors, his legs weakened but able to manoeuvre his body from room to room, the cold air penetrates and outside the deluge of hot water it waits like an old enemy.

for the first time in many days, fully dressed his body evaluates itself. he was hospitalised, in and out twice. tests, blood, urine, cameras, swabs, strange isolation rooms, nurses, doctors, specialists, charts. his head pounds with information. the wretched feeling, the nausea, the uncontrollable requirements to purge, all long in absentia now. the toothpaste tastes awful, he looks into his eyes. pupils darkened and hollowed out. is there something to recognise, whatever it is is unfamiliar. 

wandering through mission control he hovers over a few books, he stops and flicks through some paperwork. he scans some documentation. he makes himself a cracker, it tastes good but he can only drink water. his mouth bites and chews slowly. he opens a few doors and a cold breeze blows through the house. it's ice cold and fresh. light dances through the building now, angels sing under the surface of things. was it real? was any of it real? is it real?

the answer is digestible, no. it's all a lie. she was a lie. she always was and always will be, there is no love there, no truth, no substance. a mirage, temptations come in many forms but mostly female. i always fail that test, or does the test fail me. it makes no difference now. pottering around the kitchen, my hands discover a half smoked joint. i spark up and sit down, my head emptying of thought until insight enters.

child trauma is love corrupted. i never wanted to survive with her, only to live with her. but she had given herself to monsters of the past. her history dominates her present, as does her ideology, it corrupts her future and therefore mine. she only knows how to hate me and that's okay, my journey is to be hated by those i love. it is foretold, it is experienced and it is understood. weak people ignorant people always fear what they cannot understand.

i think tonight i will bang the drum under the stars, i will dance with the fire twirlers, shake with the hula hoop girls and howl with the beasts. i'm far from dead, more alive than ever. 

hows this for something, i attend a big fucking meeting at work and it begins by my boss making a big ho ha, a speech about me. what the fuck, apparently i've been there 25 years and they wanted to give me some sort of watch or token. i did'nt get one but it's a nice thought. to be honest i have actually worked there longer but i had a year off when i went to canada in 2000. i've worked all my life in various situations but yeah 25 years is a long time. anyways the rest of the meeting was me challenging everyone to work better, aim higher and get into gear, i'm disliked but i don't care, even my boss is on side but she's a hippie so wants to be liked and sometimes she's two steps forwards and one step back. i don't care, i just do my work. 

it's been a really long day and my body actually aches, it's weary and i'm very tired. my home needs attension and all i want to do is inhabit it. but tomorrow morning i have a docters appointment, then there's the freaking domestics. there's a few people i need to catch up with but i'll put that on the backburner until i feel okay. i get up very early, after about one hours sleep and potter around with some writing, laundry and as the sun cracks the day open i work the front garden. at the doctors i'm given more antibiotics, i go shopping with a plan to make some sort of jambalaya. i have no idea why, it's just something i thought about and feel i need to do. 

bitter wind blows through mission control, it's ice station zero, polar bears wander around the garden, my fingers numb and my nose is so cold. i can't stand it. 

i look backwards at the experience, her beautiful face gazing at me all this time, years, i look forwards and it's just a fork in the road, no certainty or clear messaging, communication is low key, not what it was pre and during my travels so something has changed and i speculate it is the visit, maybe i am a disappointment? do i move forwards or give it a chance, it's very hard to know without a clear definitive. ah well i guess i'm just clutching at straws here. i fall down and sometimes i'm just pushed but i always get up. life just grabs me and pulls me in new directions, and to be honest i'm due a new direction. with my new haircut people all seem bemused and transfixed, they all say it's very assertive but to be honest that's the last thing i wanted, i just wanted a change, something new, a new me, as the old one was on a head on collision with the abyss. 

we do have a quick conversation, she sounds defeated and bored. she says she dosn't want to deal with anyone, including me and to not get offended. ha! don't get offended. it's not offending me, it's just the same old stuff of non commitment, avoidence and puts me in a difficult position as history repeats itself. i recall that advice about staying in the moment but the moment feels like pain and i ain't sticking around for that. i can find my own distractions. in the end i just ask outright. i get a weird answer but there's some hope in there so i'll take that i guess and just move forwards. oh, by the way, i don't stay in moments that are painful, i let them go until i find one i like. for some dumb reason i'm popular now, it's weird how that works, i don't really want to be at all, but i guess the season is upon me. 

rain coming, sprinkle here and there, windscreen dappled in falling drops, trickles downwards distorting the future. i have no plan other than get mission control sorted, the back garden, the broken toilet seat, the piles of stuff. not enough time at the moment as i'm commited, it will all end tuesday evening at 2100 when i can stop and focus on what is important.

i'm reading my second malfi novel, it's good, very well written. much less grungy and more straightforwards than the other and then suddenly the hardcore kicks in from left field.

there is no doubt, i am a mad crazy fool, sailing upon an idiot wind towards the rocks or the sandbanks in my search for buried treasure. it's out there, far away but close and despite the past, despite the warning signs, despite the challenges and resistance, like oddessus i must face the fear and do whatever i can to return. 

was it sabotage, where you stolen from me, was it just your wild untamed youth or my stupidity, i was true and true missed the target. it lost the war, defeated it lost everything but it was subjected to a strange rebirth in a new direction, and i let things go. and you in your unique beauty were held captive by monsters and i was under the spell you were happy. i would have busted down doors to free ypou but as usual i'm the last to know. and i end up last. 

but that's okay, i rather go down in love than stand in hate. i've known both and i know what i am true to. it don't make me better, it don't make me worse, it just makes me. and here i am again.

 a woman is at my door, i get a shock as i look up and she's just there, wearing a hideous cardigan and that youthful enthusism you get from idiots with cuases you no longer believe in. it's the cancer council wanting money for womens cancer, and despite my shock she launches into a script that i can't escape from, it's terrible, entrapemnt i scream on the inside. we are seperated by a screen door. she goes on and on, telling me about the rise in cancer and womens health and then when it's all over asks me to make a donation. the fact is the cancer council won't cure anything, it's about early detection. there are cures for cancer already and there's prevention methods, however the solution lies in the production of food, drink and the general health of the planet. many things cuase cancer but many things can cure it, but that would prevent the pharmacutical companies profiting. all charity is a scam. it's a self fulfilling prophecy and industry similar to the pharmecutical industry. if you want to help someone help them directly, don't use an agency to do it for you. the agency takes a huge cut, and thus propels itself onwards. i no longer believe or trust charities. they often come with some political agenda as well. 

age teaches you quality over quantity,  you do not need to finish that joint, a few puffs will get you there. you do not need to overeat, drink or indulge in it all, because once pleasure is reached, once you get to that space where it feels good, you don't need to go further. young people, myself included always went further but now i understand there is no requirement. my knowledge and understanding will not be enhanced by quantity, only quality will give me what is needed.

same in relationships. i don't want quantity, but high quality. i want trust,  respect, i want communication, i want enthusiasm and commitment but it all has to mean something, it must be authentically felt and expressed else it's just a lie. it must be safe. in my experience that is never found in quantity.  only quality.

i'm in a massive space of clearing, lots of stuff being thrown out, i suddenly realised i have a lot of jakes stuff here, i'd have to keep that but slowly i make space. there's also the debris of my garden which caught fire a few days ago and now needs a fair bit of work. there's also some writing. the fact i'm writing makes me happy. next wednesday i return to the surf, that's going to change everything. i''d go in now as the surf is amazing but i'm not well and do not want to push my luck. anyways, next week is my personal deadline and hopefully i can meet that commitment.

my back is still fantastic, no more pain. 

my back is healed thanks to dr. peter proud who returned from his adventures in far north queensland, he was radiant and looked in fine form. his place is amazing, i could see the work and the effort monique and him put into it and it's beautiful. he works my back, using a device that is like a hundred woodpeckers attacking was actually relaxing and lifted tension immediately.he stretched some muscle's on my neck and used a weird clunky table on me, and hey presto, my back was pain free. the knife removed after 2 months.

at home i chat with bubbles, and wow! my fears seem to be just fears, she actually started talking about our time together. positively! that was the enthusiasm i needed hear. fantastique.it''s a great conversation, she's very smart, a very clever girl but in the most abstract way possible, she's eccentric, intelligent and sexy. i know i get called eccentric by almost everyone, and it's true to a certain extent, but i am a child of post punk london, with post punk sensibilities and bubbles is a post punky girl. she's complex and genius, sexy and funny as fuck.

intelligence- well there are so many types of intelligent but bubbles has the kind that i don't really have, it compliments mine. 

sexy- oh yeah.

so there's that. it's hard for both of us, i appreciate that. it was the first time around, and it worked up until brain injury so all I have to do is protect my head.

the big meeting seemed to take me by surprise, i was anxious and concerned as i was going in with some heavy artillery and advocating for clients which always makes people nervous as i take no prisoners. i said my bit, i was articulate, my points well presented and backed by observable detail and example, my use of language was preciece and confrontational. however my boss understood exactly what i was talking about and agreed with me,  i had spoken for about an hour and a half and it was possibly the most important meeting i had had since i had started working with this organisation. usually my boss is fearful when i advocate, she knows i am right and would never back down, but this time she is responsive. very positively acknowledging what i am saying. it's impressive. 

when i get home around midnight i can't sleep, i write, read, toss and turn,  and eventually around 0400 i sink into deep sleep only to awaken at 0800. down at the beach i am supposed to meet dr. peter proud but he's in the ocean, i watch him wading out, no wetsuit, far to cold for me. instead i wander down to look at the baby seal, it's cute, just longing around on a rock in the sun. a few passer by's complement me on my new hair, they say it makes me look younger. if only they knew i feel thousands of years old. 

i have finished the malfi book, it's conclusion was epic and weird, very good but meh, some kinda finality would have been better. i'll read another book of his, see how it goes. he is a very good writer, that must be said.

driving home fast, i break rules and eventually fall into the zen drive, when i turn of the freeway the lovely bubbles rings to check in, she knows i am exhausted and tired, run down and somewhat running on empty.  i can't recall what she says, something about antibiotics and hair, maybe something like 'goodnight lovely, love you,' but that last bit is a bit unconvincing. i dunno, once bitten and all that. however it's a lovely gesture and very thoughtful, after all if i died on the way home, no one would know for at least a week. i pull up and drag myself inside to the weird interior of mission control, where piles of books and cds now have the company of piles of tee shirts which i need to sort through. i feel like i am getting somewhere, but realistically it's three steps forwards and one step back.

my meeting today was moved to tomorrow and that's no good for me, i need to just say what i gotta say and be done with it. i don't expect anyone will do anything as they are useless and incompetent when it comes to conflict and dealing with accoutability. however i just need to say it.

ah well tomorrow should be fun if i make it.

 sleepless in springfield, the night just lingers over like a dark blanket, i toss and turn, i think about my fave things, i think about them a lot and then the grey matter between my ears kicks into some sort of overdrive and i make my way down to the fire, throw a load of wood in, watch the flames lick at the glass and the heat envelope mission control and i write, woking my way through chunks of my book. my memories of the period i write are hazy, fuzzy, i need details and they are elusive. the silence is great, no sound except the crackle of flame, i make myself a tea, feel the sleep come as the tea kicks in. i sleep for two hours and then read for a few hours, the book is very good, unpredictable and interesting. again i sleep for another two hours and wake up suddenly, it's light, morning sneaked in.

my hair still looks pretty weird, i figure without my beard it will look reasonably consistent. it's very cold in the house, fire dying, outside is bitter and as i air the house the cold air blows through. at least it resets the interior atmosphere from the smoke and dust, the i'm wrapped up in jumpers, coats and scarves. i consider doing some laundry but end up discovering loads of tee shirts and a oil heater. christ where was that when i needed it! at least i can heat the bedroom when the wood runs out.

later i drive to the chemist pick up some stuff, then off to work. i dunno, work is not quite what it used to be, it's now just a way to pay my morgage, i can't really do much here anymore although every one likes me, they fear me, i guess that's respect in a way, but my heart is far away.

tomorow i have a few things to do in the morning, catching up with dr. peter proud. my back is killing me, whoever stabbed me there did a good job. hopefully peter will have some antidote. the other thing i have to do is work out how to sleep more than 4 hours a night, it's really taking it's toll, my eyes have such huge bags under them i look like a ghoul. actually with this weird hair cut i look a lot like iggy pop.  

i can't sleep so at dusk I head down to the markets and wander around, half hoping i can bump into something or someone that will distract me for a few hours but the market is far to busy and all i can think about is getting back to my novel i'm halfway through reading. it's been a while since a novel had me hooked. three story lines and two time lines about to converge, it's gripping stuff and very well written.

i make my way to the station, today is my hair appointment and i've decided to save a 2/3rds of the price and get it done in the city not terrigal where it's so expensive i just laughed when they quoted me. 

i meet yayin, she's just amazing. a really inspirational as she tells me her background story and we get stuck into the task. four hours later my hair is transformed, into a cross between ziggy stardust, the man who fell to earth, iggy pop and some sort of post punk look, a sort of orange / red tinge, purple overtones and the original black, grey strands. i'm told the colour will fade in 2 weeks and it will revert to the monochrome i'm familiar with, but it's certainly striking currently and people seem to notice. no one known to me, but lots of stares from fellow passengers on the train. 

as soon as i walk in bubbles calls and we chat for a little while, she's happy and in her cat world, i still get the impression she is glad to be away from me, i dunno, she seemed to really love all her ex boyfriends and give herself to them even when they turned out to be fuck heads, whereas i'm just no longer on her radar. even when i was decades ago she left me for someone else when i really needed her. however, truth is, it's lovely hearing her voice and despite her actions towards me, i love her. i don't need her to love me and i've always said without enthusiasm or demonstration as in, acts of faith, i don't want an ordinary love, it's just a word people use like 'kettle' or 'coat' or 'fun.' love for me is much much more, it's a whole spectrum of actions, a leap of faith, a sacrifice, a demonstrative verb, it's got to be more that just something you say habitually or in response to an auto pilot and past patterns created. sometimes when bubbles said it to me, i felt like she could have been talking to her iphone. 

so onwards, projects must be completed. i'm full steam ahead. i'd kill for an editor or assistant, someone to just motivate or at least inspire me but for the moment i'm alone.

dr. peter proud rang me from hamilton island, he's having an adventure but returns monday night. i can't wait, i miss the guy heaps. it does sound as if he had some adventures up there and he's ready to get home. stories of high speed cop chases, good cop bad cop, girls in bikinis and reef adventures. 

tomorrow i have a big meeting where i have to speak some home truths, it's not going to be easy, but i have to remember who i am there for. i'm not there to make friends.

well sadness is my middle name but what did i expect? 

early morning i watch the glorious surf roll in but cannot get in as my cough is still bad, however it's very inviting and everyone says it's warm. another two weeks and i probably will return to the ocean, i can't get in prematurely and get ill again. instead i chat with a few locals, some girls come over to say they have missed me, and i give a brief rundown on my last few months. no word from bubbles, i know she's not well and probably in bed asleep and i don't want to ring but it's strange not hearing from her. my intuition tells me she is not that interested in me, i'm not the guy she met 20 years ago, my life is much more domestic and introverted. i dunno, i just feel she won't see me again. later in the evening i ring to check in, but she is short and not that interested in talking. i guess what i want is some confirmation, communication. if i have to let go i'd like to know now so i can move forwards. i hate holding patterns. it's not like I would mind, i'd accept whatever the outcome is but i rather know now than later.

i'm philisophical about this, whatever's going to happen let it happen, or not. at home i do more laundry and look at the fire damage upon my tropical plants, it will require some landscaping, full on tearing out trees, plants and natural fencing. i've ideas about what to put there, some weed perhaps after all i have seeds. i also search my house for an oil heater, i'm sure i have one at home, of two but nothing is there. 

i sit down to write, a novel i must get out this year, it requires work, it's an insane story and when i read it back, there are weak areas. i can make it much better but i need time and some feedback. maybe these few months i can attack it, get it done. plus there's my song i worked out with tez and gene, they need fresh vocals and as soon as i can sing without coughing i'll get that down. couple of days methinks. it's a prority. i've heard some demos, and wow! it's stunning but tez and jean seem to have the skills whereas i just write.

the other big descision i have made is to do something with my hair, something radical and interesting, i do some investigative work and find a place that may work in hornsby. out of the blue i am called into work by my boss who begs me to help he out so i figure it will be warmer at work and drive in, on the way i stop at the hardressing place and get a quote. it's a lot but i gotta do something with the mess atop my head. now it's a question of when and logistics. i may train it in and back sometimes next week.

at work everyone wants me to bake a cake, even my boss. there's a butter cake mix there so i do some magick with it, add some berries, mashed bannana, honey and mct oil. my boss takes half the cake home, the clients all sit around eating and licking the spoons, happy people. it's nice, i like making cakes for these guys, they are nothing special, just regular cake mix with my own varients but these whackos show so much appreciation and its easy for me. i cook three meals and bake a cake, everyone content. i even get paid for it. 

later bubbles calls me, she's still sick but it's lovely hearing her voice, even if she hates me, i will always think of her as the one that got away, and her picture will always remain upon my wall, gazing down at me. that enegmatic look, those eyes, twenty years.

the sun sets fast and the temperature drops, it's been a long day which starts at the beach catching up with monique, i hear our mutual friend is back on monday and i'm looking forwards to seeing him. monique asks me if i had tried the mushrooms we bought, she said she had one square and was impressed. but her son ate 6 and was hallucinating wildly and his friends had to bring him home as he was loosing it. i confesses bubbles and myself had eaten the lot over several nights. i put in an order for more. she was about to go for a surf and asked if i wanted to join her but i was not feeling 100% plus it was freezing. it had been a while since i had seen her and it was great to catch up. 

at home i did a lot of work cleaning, dusting vacuuming and polishing, i got stuck into the front garden and then sat in front of my laptop writing. there's a few things i need to tidy up writing wise.

by evening i'm spent, ready for bed. out of fire starters and for the first time in a while i don't light the fire. my cough seems to get worse in the evenings, it's annoying as speaking is difficult. i listen to the predators cd,  it's very very good. it's taken me about two months to get around to playing it.

bubbles rings me, safe and sound, home, in record time. i'm glad she is safe but she sounds tired and sick, a reflection of myself at the moment whom is coughing and spluttering. conversations short as i recognise she needs sleep and some space . i get a late afternoon visit from agent wilde, she's brought around some lozenges for me, and we have some tea and cake, it's nice to see her, been a while and she seems in good spirits.i fill her in on my month, she's amazed at my bubbles tale, '20 years', the photograph on my wall, the fact we both had brain issues and the weird reconnection out of the blue. i guess it is a pretty unusual sequence.

i try to explain bubbles to her, it's complex as she is no conventional personality but i manage and agent wilde says, 'i think i will really like this girl.' yeah i think so to. we finish tea and cake and she disappears back home, i'm left with the cold, the awful ache and the strange sadness lingering. separation anxiety, only the surf would fix me, but it's freezing.

she's long gone now, on the highway,  stopping at hotels and restaurants,  a whispered conversation here and there, she is not one for goodbyes, no sentimentality there, just a practical mindset, no romance or affection, it's just one thing to the next. we are quite different. i'm all or nothing, in or out, 100% or nothing, because i am so certain about myself but i have learnt to let these things pass,  windows and doors open and close, i see the portal and it's potential future and what kind of leap of faith is required. it's beyond trust, it's a huge big faith.

fire burns around me, loud crackling, flames 8ft high licking at my trees as it consumes my plants. if it was not for the sound i'd have never known, that consuming devouring fire has, it eats all in its path. i'm leaping out with the hose, it's intense but i whack it on,  spraying dow at the flames, then across is sweeping motions, the heat is nuts, the black charcoal patch that trails up the trunks, the fumes, the terrible stench but this fire must be quenched. my neighbour comes over to assist buy by now it is well under control.  my gorgeous ginger plant has been destroyed but fortunate that's the worst of it.

it's a lot of drama for one day, i return to domestics.

for those that see, the few humans with vision, those free people, clear minds unpolluted by media, ideologies and causes, for those rare individuals who understand the cosmos there is only one way out of the prison humanity has now termed freedom. up is down, in is out, left is right, and everyone is saturated with someone else's program. it's not as simple as mind control for those that think they are at risk of mind control are often the ones who are controlled and like any virus have a need to control the ones they think are running the virus. everyday in cafes, in streets and towns i hear the inane nonsense of these so called 'awakened' ones who are just as brain dead as those that they label asleep. there is no awake and no asleep, you are all fallen under the spell cast by your own prison of mind. no ideology can liberate you, no human intervention will reveal the truth, yet the truth has already been revealed, and it is divine. soon it will come, the liberating power of excession, an event so beyond comprehension we will not understand it at all but only decipher it in terms of divine. faith baby. it works.

as I stand at dawn, the golden path awaits, the fragile civilization is just illusionary, for in these new dimensions intention must be purified upon the furnace of truth. i just see ashes and smoke and the zombie apocalypse gains ground. i'll step into the golden light. 

cold, ice cold almost as mission control's supply of wood reduces before my eyes, it's the algebra of diminishing returns as the winter marches the fire burns more brightly until there is no fuel. i calculate i have sufficient to get me through.  both meredith and myself cannot quite fathom how cold it gets here, and i explain in my history of travelling and living in various ice climates this is the coldest place i have stayed.

we have eaten psychedelics and laughed the cold away, she's a funny girl, always made me laugh hysterically. she say's she loves me but i don't believe it. she knows i love her, which is something. i dunno  love is a verb for me. who knows where this will lead, i just don't want a repeat of past mistakes, a flame on, burn out type situation, i need something reliable, consistent and real. these qualities seem very reasonable and simple yet they have alluded me all my life, bad choices and an over developed sense of loyalty, yet i am who i am. however there's a lot going in our favour, and a high potential this could work for us. like, love, lust. we have that, despite the weird quantities and mix, we also have a past, we have a now and we have a future which is brighter than ever. 

for the moment we have about 48 hours left before she returns to adelaide and there's nothing really major that can happen in that time to change the harmony although separation anxiety may kick in somewhere. peas in a pod for about one month. soon i will be on my own,  falling into my routine, beach in the morning, training for one hour, home and work. my energies will be focused upon finishing a few novels, and getting home cleaned up. it looks chaotic, meredith living out of suitcases, my kitchen cluttered and spilling over with weird medicines, condiments and cooking utensils. the book mountains. all these things need attention. everything requires time, the resource i value most.

late night shenanigans art mission control with meredith and myself,  and thus, no sleep for me, but i did have a groovy night. 

the day seem to slip into easy action, some chores, some shopping, some chatting and then i seemed to hit the ground running, as sleep deprivation claimed me and an early night pulled me in it's overwhelming gravity towards the deepest sleep i have had for years. nice. 

as it happens i seem to be passing my health tests with fling colours, the heart specialist reckons i'll be off my meds in 8 months after referring me to newcastle hospital who are doing experimental surgery on AF patients. he said my results are perfect. my results regarding lungs will be finalised on monday when the results from the breathing tests are reconciled by the respiratory doctor. and then there's the outrageous UTI I had from out of the blue which made every one panic thinking it was some form of tumour or or cancer, after a blast of very strong antibiotics and an MRI  it appears i am okay.

this is fantastic news for me, specifically as i require a positive outlook to be productive. by tuesday i should know more and be able to plan some movement.

meredith is still here, all good, very cool, she's perfect including all her weird flaws and idiosyncrasies, possibly the most eccentric individual i know, yet we are uniquely compatible. it really is bizarre but it really is lovely and easy. so there's that!

well today i have a number of tests being run on me at the hospital, i guess when the results are in i will know but until then it's chop wood carry water.  to be honest i feel okay, just another challenge and just another day on planet earth.

 oh dear. have i run out of time? 

it's hard to second guess, but this morning i had a health scare, ha, who hasn't had one since that fucking jab, anyway, it appears i need urgent medical health. all the fucking medication I am using for my heart issue is effecting every other organ in my body, especially my kidneys, thank you spike protein. i never needed you in my life but you forced your way in thanks to stupid bureaucrats and zombies who do what they are told. i'm not even angry just feeling defeated as the closer i get to what i wanted the further it gets. not everyone gets happy endings, someone has to loose out in order for someone to win, but what the fuck is the game, control, domination, power, or just an insane pathology. 

tick tock the time bomb goes, the second hand makes it's circuit, there's only one way out mission in this game of chance, and that's in. the red wire or the blue, i was never very good at choices. i'll just pull them both and see what happens.

last night in perfect harmony meredith and myself sat down to watch a magnificent tv series called 'pluribus' written by the 'breaking bad' writer. a strange transmission is picked up by boffins who discover embedded inside a code for altering dna through rna (sound familiar) however this code transforms the survivors into a new kind of human, a human that shares a hive mind and only wants peace, tranquility and to transform others, (a meme) and despite the billions of deaths there are 12 humans globally who are resistant to the virus, and the series follows the life of one. a brilliantly flawed character and both meredith and myself like her a lot. there are some great ideas in this show plus a original humour that is refreshing to see on modern tv. ah, science fiction, still the best genre.

waterboys 'endless store'

 

the waterways, from the fishermans blues sessions released upon atlantic rain, the gift that keeps on giving.

the ice cold penetrates every aspect of mission control including my old bones, even my blood feels like it's freezing over. my guest is also suffering so i investigate the local wood dealers, all have pushed their prices up due to the ice age but I'm in no position to argue. 

when the wood comes it's dumped outside in a pile and we both load and stack it outside the front door, the work almost destroys me, my back is already damaged and now it just feels terrible. however mission control is  very hot, the fire works wonders.

while catching up at work i notice i have about 6 months long service leave, it's quite a big chunk but i'm not sure what to do, the last thing i really want is to travel anywhere, but next summer if the weather is good, i may take a month off for surfing activities and just to relax, maybe if i can afford it a week away up in brissy which i've always wanted to explore. however current contentment and lack of curiosity will probably keep me local. plus i had a lovely visit from meredith who drove up from adelaide to visit, and so far it's been well, like 20 years gap never happened, but it did, i guess it would be foolish to avoid it. both of us have changed but in good ways, wiser i guess, and we are determined not to rush into anything and establish a close friendship before anything else. that bit's just happening naturally and it's really nice. she's a very peculiar individual and her traits compliment mine, the only thing i need to do is really a few simple modifications and forwards we go.

yesterday we went for a lovely walk in the sunshine, had a nice small simple lunch and just spoke about our weird history and how amazing it is to be together. in the evening we watched a scary australian movie she recommended, 'bring her back' which was excellent up until the messy ending which although satisfying could have been better. 

i've a lot of medical appointments this month, heart, chest, kidneys ect so it's nice to actually have someone who is happy to be my next of kin, in australia, who will assist me. unfortunately jake is in london.

it's very cold, the bitter winter has arrived and it is chasing my heels as i reacclimatise myself. i need to get some firewood, the fire will make all the difference. to counteract the cold i end up taking myself to bed very early. it's the warmest place in mission control, and at 1900 i tend to read for a few moments and then fall asleep, waking up just before sunrise at 0600 and heading down to catch the sun rise. whales are migrating south at the moment so if i'm lucky i may catch a few but now the rain has come going outside becomes tricky and my enthusiasm less.

today i return to work after 7 weeks away, this creates a split in me, half not wanting to go, the other dealing with the reality. it's been so nice being away from all the stupid people i work with, their petty scheming, undermining and competitive natures. however i have a mission there and need to make a considerable dent in it while i can. 

everything is so uncertain, it's not just an uncertain moment, it's an uncertain decade. war, plague, hate and lies, it's all there at the door and i have surrendered to the fight, all you zombies can eat yourselves while i just bunker down and keep my own peace. just gotta stay away from the vast amount of ignorant people, especially the new ones who claim to be awakened. it's almost like saying 'your spiritual' those types are the ones i avoid. 

yesterday i had a conversation with someone who wanted to find a partner, 'they must have integrity,' and i thought, there's a demand you will never meet. in my mind integrity is a moment to moment thing, under the right circumstances it can change and often does, so there's no point desiring it, all you can do is find your own and know that it to will shift and change as your life does. integrity is a warning sign, like spirituality, if you have these things there is no need to speak of them. 

back home. finally. it was quite a journey, lots of delays and waiting in planes and airports and then being singled out for customs in Sydney, which was ridiculous as I need up being the guinea pig for the drug dogs when a customs officer planted a bag in my trolly to test her hubby. obviously she asked me, but the irony was not lost. i touched down at 6am and was home at 11am. 

straight into the garden which is a mess, then laundry, unpacking and putting stuff away and then showering, shopping and sleeping. i went to bed at 1630 and awake at 0500 the following morning. my back still hurts but i'm determined to catch the sunrise at terrible beach this morning.

it's neither hot nor cold here, very mild for winter and there are even a few people surfing, i say hi to a few locals and have my first good coffee in a month, i saviour every drop. i still have bags under my eyes and it may take a while for those to go away but generally i feel good.

later in the day the sun goes behind a cloud and i can feel the temp drop. chilly. back home for more domestics.

respite arrives at 1800 when the breeze begins to start, i open all the windows and create a wind tunnel through the house, both mum and myself bask in the comfort of cool fresh air. it's the small things that bring the most joy. 

my brother very kindly takes me to a massage service place he knows in crouch end, no, not that type but a professional joint with healthy looking massusses and as i await my swedish glamourous beauty with slight but firm hands i can feel the stabbing pain in my upper back. it fills me with panic as i will have to travel back with two heavy cases and there are awkward areas of navigation espcially on the tube. when my lady appears she is in the form of a latvian version of a sumo wrestler, what happened to my nordic viking princess?

i'm led into a nice room and left alone to take my place upon the table. when she begins i ask her to go hard and deep, show no mercy. she spends one whole hour going hard and deep and shows no mercy, she locates the knot in my back and untangles it, she is focused upon the task and her hands work wonders. an hour later i float out. she did mention i will need a few more sessions in australia to et my back unlocked completely but she has given me a reprive from the stabbing pain.

then martin takes me for a tarot reading. surprisingly i am told, i have had deep trauma, i will move house soon and unexpectadly, i will come into money, i may move interstate or overseas.
then she reads my palms and says i am surrounded by luck. 

all of this is news to me.

it's my final night in london, it's been nice, hanging out with mum, seeing my south coast friends and generally catching up on years of missing sleep. truth is, i miss home, i need to be back in my place, feeding the birds, fish nd water dragons. i heard it's been raing a lot in sydney, plus it's the middle of winter so i will need to buy wood but none the less, i am excited to return. plus i have a girl out there.

in the inferno of london, tempratures sizzle, records are broken but there is no respite outside of cold beer, air conditioning, off which there are very few places that seem to have this luxury due to council regulations on emmissions. the heat is overwhelming, my mothers apartment is sweltering and it appears the car is the coolest place to be. my brother has lent me his car and in the evenings i take mum out for shopping adventures, a few dinners and some juants around the local area. at the moment the sun sinks around 9pm so wer enjoy the twilight hours although it's still very hot. at night it's impossible to sleep as i'm covered in a layer of sweat and the atmosphere is overwhelming. it's hard to breath. i usually stay awake until 4am and as the faint dawn offers glimpses retire to bed, where i may sleep for 6 hours. 

i've been watching 'peeky blinders' which is better than i thought it would be, in fact it's excellent. much better than 'the soprano's.' the acting is sensational, the script amazing and the soundtrack full of surprises. but it is a great story and completely captivating, no wonder bowie loved it.

currently reading my first adrian tchaikovsky book, 'shround' which is science fiction and so far really good.

london is indeed an onion, it's layers are deep and it takes a considerable amount of research and walking skills to pentrate it. the mithras temple underneath the bloomberg building is at it's heart although i suspect it goes deeper. 
as you decend a time line shows you how london was overlaid with various structures and events, one covers the other. it's quite something. there is indeed a hidden esotericism. secret societies, hidden messages in sculptures and architectures, one could easily feel lost within a labyrinth or at the outskirts of a maze. there's a weird formality to it all as initiates pass through invisible gates and doors, and enter chambers unveiled and deeper knowldge revealed beyond ythe pagan heart and astrological centre. one can never be certain about how deep it goes but what is known is the deeper yo go the harder it is to return the same as when one went in. london is a city of mysteries, conspiracy and concealment. it's heirachy is almost inpenetrable which is why the keys to the city are needed. and also why only a handful have them.

on a lighter side i visit some of christopher wrens churches, st. pauls is the obvious one but st. mary le bow is the one which interests me most as it determined my birth as a cockney. those born within it's church bells are true londoners aka cockneys and i was well within it's circle. rebuilt after the great fire of london by wren it now stands magnificently as a testiment to his finest achievements. one has to acknowledge his genius when you stand inside and look upwards. it's as close to holy as a man could get in human endevours. 

on the darkside i also visited one of wrens students designs for churches nicholas hawksmoor whom one could say was not a christian at all, his designs were neo pagan and possibly satanic. paying special attension to the locations, one can see an obvious pattern.

if one includes the london eye into the pattern the structure takes on a more obvious meaning as the all seeing eye.

st. lukes in oldfield, st.george in bloomsbury, st.john in horsleydown, st.george in the east, st. annes limehouse, christchurch in spitalfields, st. pauls.

peter ackroyd's novel is well worth reading as is iaan sinclairs, lud heat

martin and i take ourselves out for a movie, it's been so long since i have visited a cimema it's quite the novilty, unfortunatly 'disclosure day' is the movie we chose and although i am a big science fiction fan this one is very flawed. let me point out the acting, directing and idea are very good but the script and general narrative are very weak.  sure, it's a good theme and quite topical, what would humanity do if the knowledge of alien visitation to earth was revealled. personally 'the man who fell to earth,' is much better and far more intelligent than spielbergs movie. the central theme is 'empathy' is a form of intelligence that only highly evolved species can use. yeah all well and good in theory, but humanity is also suffering from a form of suicidal empathy, which would have made an intersting counterpoint to the whole movie. aliens meet isis. 
the film is a kinda chase movie, along with the usual dips into convential religion faces extra terrestrial life philosophy, god created man in his highest image, but 'only upon earth' some smart nun responds. and the control of information versus freedom of information, let the public have the facts. 

meanwhile spielberg throws in his usual sentimental moments reducing an adulty experience into a childhood one. meh!

martin condfesses he didn't really understand it and even through i understood it, i wish i hadn't wasted my time.

the japanese dinner i had with martin was excellent, tofu noodles with vegtable. 

 i speak with meredith in adalaide, it's so nice to hear her voice which has two components, one being a non stop talking machine which basically will just speak about anything with intermitent laughter as it rambles onwards like a steam train going down hill at the listener tied to the track. the other part is a 'soft' voice whoch fortunatly is present most times we speak, it's possibly the most calming sound you can imagine. it's influence upon me is narcotic, i'm not sure if i have ever encountered anything like it, a whispering gentle sound with plenty of space between words where sounds manifest, dolphins, birds and random coded alphabets, some i understand and others i don't. it's as though i'm a wounded tiger in pain and distressed and as soon as i hear her voice i instantly calm and am enveloped by an ocean of tranquility and peace. 

my pain, at the moment is a back pain that has moved into my shoulder, it really is accute and feels akin to someone stabbing me in the back with a sharp but large blade. i have had to take painkillers to assist. i cannot rely upon merediths voice so i may have to buy some weed as im not sure i can stand it much longer, the pain is terrible and limits my movements.

when i do speak with meredith it is between long bouts of her sleeping as she is recovering from a chest infection, plus months of stress and trauma. i imagine she is exhuasted and i feel helpless being so far away. she sleeps, i sleep and maybe we can meet in our dreams. her sleep is ridiculous although when i was on anti histamines i also slept long hours, sleeping between sleeping but i must admit meredith has beaten records, sometimes she sleeps for 12 hours, wakes up to say hello and five mins later sleeps for another 12 hours, and this last period she has slept for 5 days like this.  

jake popped in today and we take mum to the big shop where she buys a potato in the jacket and meets some people from out of town. she's tired but does well walking a long distance. at home we all collapse, i sit by the window watching the evening sunlight dancing through the trees, the birds singing a summer song and i just feel everything, saturating me, intense vampric sensory inputs, the slightest noise, the most miniute sensation of wind upon my skin, the hyper sensual curve of a womans flesh, the artery that pulses upon her neck, slightly in sublime slow motion as it starts standing out, looking magnificent and powerful, all that blood and life in one throb. 

i do a bit of cooking for mum, but she hates my food just as much as i can't eat hers. she needs sugar, salt and a selection of poisons whereas i am attempting to be as clear of these things as possible. often i will make my own breakfasts and dinners, usually for breakfast greek yougurt with fruit and bran, the apples and berries are really good here in the uk. dinners usually consist of green lentils and veg, or sardines. i can't really eat anything mum makes. even her sandwiches are awful due to the processed bread everyone seems to eat. if i am out i try to find a bagel shop, cream cheese, smoked salmon and capers are my weakness but then very ocassionally when i feel like it i induldge myself in fish and chips. the ones i had with tez and jean were the best so far. strangely everyone seems to eat indian food here, i'm amazed at how it has become so popular, and normal. i don't mind it once in a blue moon but it appears everyone seems to eat it here. often i'm asked what i want for dinner and i say 'anything but indian' and find as i sit down to eat, it's indian food. weird man. it's not that i dislike it, it's that i cannot eat it every day. 

i travel by train down to worthing to meet my old friends tez and jean, it seems srange seeing them in 3d as we usually speak via skype messenger. it's a short but very nice few days, the weather seems to confine us to indoors but we have a couple of excursions, some great food and late night chats. my strange sleepy maliase seems t overwhelm me and i find myself having seistas and retiring early. tez says it's due to the fact i am at rest, my body is easing into holiday mode but i think it may be something else, some sort of weirdness. however i enjoy my sleep and it's the best ret i have had in months. it's hard to leave them, but i return to london. the train journey sees me staring out the window at south london, as we roll passed battersea powerstation and all the horrible buildings, the strange homes and streets and the city seems part victorian, part 70's and mostly brutal. dark grey clouds and sleet don't help.

the next day i take a trip into london, wander around soho my old huants and carnaby street where i worked as a kid, down into covent gardens, i find a bagel shop and get a really good one. in foyles i pick up a few books, i avoid the esoteric bookshops as i have no cash. the city is heaving with people, and in a shop i meet an interesting italian lady, she's really nice and we strike up a conversation about olive oil, and i tell her about my love for italy. on the way home i notice all these young girls and women, dressed up to the nines, all looking glamourous and a woman with pink fingerpolish explains me someone called harry styles is in town, hence the girls. i have no idea who he is but london looks quite the spot with all these girls out and about.

i made the mistake of buying another caitlin starling book and once again what started as a great novel became a bad one 2/3rds through. it's a shame as i would like to find a few female writers i like but it's just not happening. the novel has a great premise and begins in a monstic castle under seige, and they are running out of food. the three charachters are very interesting, all female. one a waif whom sctraches together a life in the carverns discoveres a mysterious precence under the foundations which offers her a terrible bargin. the other is knight, a warrior who devotes herself to her king until he is supplanted by the arrival of the saints. these saints bring what appears like salvation but it is also a debuched fall into savagery and illusion. and the last charachjeter is a witch who has managed to use her powers to create water fit for drinking but cannot quite work out how to create food. 
while the monastry seems to decend into madness and horror the three women challenge the arrival of the saints and expose their true nature. it's a great story but the last bits seem to just fail in the same way as her previous novel, 'the luminous dead' did.