introduce the guitars meeting the ocean as cymbals play waves to lumbini grove, a simple little line throbbing away as steve tells the tale, something very laurel canyon (the geographical area not the church song) sounding, the fade out is a clash of intertwined guitars into western, my fave. steve's lyrics are like reading a novel, again big concepts in small sentences. some awesome base lines, subtle shifts in gears and tones, oh yes, the western lands. when that guitar comes in we are in the space, no dimensions. it's a classic church song to me, huge in scope and expanse. 

ferrari, is a different story, it's named after a car but it sounds like a star, shimmering and glimmering, with that strange controversial line,  it's does irk me, neither good nor bad, it's just what it is, and it works, i guess, weird how one line can distort in my stupid mind. the song capturing the cold climate, the strange adventure, the disappointment. ahead, steve obtuse and cheeky, me thinks, its not space rock but it's rock filled with space.

sky river -  another fave of mine, the falsetto (keep that singer in the band), the harmonies, the effects on the guitars, precision drumming and percussion. steve speaks over some cool vibes, indian signatures and i wish i could turn this up but it's late and my neighbours would not approve, now i feel the spirit, it's in my blood, in my heart, it's the church. truth. what a brilliant song. this would be my single, although I like all the others but this would be a great reintroduction to the band. it's perfecto. summer in a song, into 

winter -more classic church, hologram of baal era maybe, having said that, it's fresh and new, more chimes and strange percussions, chords and lead. i love this to, sadness and melacholic vibes work for me these days...yet as usual, uplifting and gorgeous outro. 'as god is my shield.' by 'the church' good name for an album.

have you been here before-  let's just say, my fave song. oh me oh my, gimme that church groove, this would be the one for me. it was love at first sight in daves' car when i first heard it weaving along the pacific highway into the city. i wanna hear this live so bad, steve's lyrics, his voice, the guitars are divinity. it's rock and roll, inner space music for the post acid generation, the mescaline kids, the macrobiotic dot druids, it's expanding the boundaries and kicking down the walls, it's liberation in stereo surround sound. 

people get ready, for, the lemurian - oh no, more classical church vibes, how much can i take, it's fucking brilliant, he's got that command in his voice, the music is perfect. it's a stoned drone of love and freedom, a guitar that feels like the amazon, winding through deep jungle, a new territory, we want this stuff, it's the good gear. again it's got a live sound, i can see steve rapping his words on that windy bit as the guitars return. it gets a bit heavy, it gets a bit groovy, it's words weaving through the world on a bed of sound. 'you could expect just about anything,' steve says, in a voice you can trust.

everytime. - beauty in a song, such a sad overwhelming beauty it's emotional. some songs just get me in the old heart, and this is a classic one. no idea what it is all about but the feeling is like a memory of being in love with someone a long time ago before it all went wrong. when the fuzz guitars kick in everything seems to spiral upwards, chasing that stunning instrumental until steve returns. easily up there with the rest of them, wow!

the first time i played this album i fell asleep around this point. there's some sort of narcotic consistency, a maturity and laidback feel to the sequence, it's so calming and relaxing.

sky and hill- just such a classic. a hit single for the alternative universe i live in. radio's play it on high rotation, i hear it from the old tinny radios in convertibles that drive past me on the freeway, it's in the jukebox at the bar, coming blasting out the milkers and  everyone is singing along. everyone loves it, the whole world stops fighting and hold hands, singing this one. it reminds me of that first toke on a beautifully constructed joint.

paladin smokes black hash. strangeness and liminal, it's dreamy soft and sleepy, it's other worldly and haunting. there's a stoned feeling, the slow guitars, the washed out energy. the thing about the church is in a months time this could be my fave song ever but first listen it's making my eyes feel heavy and the smell of weed wafting though the lounge hangs heavy, and my head feels light.

martian skyline- more pop for the thinking man, such a radio friendly track, if only it was 1976 there's something very american about these songs, yeah, i guess it was recorded in the USA, I really like this one, it's a slow grow, 'two cats, gog and magog, familiars.' 
the percussion is fantastic. there's some nice synth pads, and as usual an interesting soundscape, harmonies and outro to die for. bliss.

i want it -  perfecto. so chilled out and smooth, a mature sound, i dunno, this new sound is very different, it's a wonderful thing, the band seem to be harmonised, in synch and inhabiting a new level of synergy, it's really organic and big, it's sexy and cool, it's chilled out without being light, it's weighty without being heavy, it's deep with no shallow. 

the place of eternal spring- oh yeah, now we are cooking with gas. psychedelic sounding, as we fall down the rabbit hole, and out the black hole of eternal springs comes forth many things, colours in sound form, emotions in flower form,  like 'dome' i want the fade out to carry on forever. is that selfish?

rapture- that's why there's a fade out, so we can get to the rapture. nice intro. exquisite. back into rock and roll. hang on, this is pretty fucking great. it's still so melodic, just when you think it's rocking out, it rolls in. ah, that's why i love the band, they always keep you guessing and do things unexpectedly. it's not rock and roll, it's roll and rock. with great lyrics. wow! the guitars rule!  my fave song, well i know i've chosen a lot from lacuna.

forever- oh no, more ambiguous love, ha, my personal curse, i really relate to this tune. simple piano but with the other instruments kicking in, the whole song just becomes something of a lament, a march through heartache and loss. yet, beautiful. i like the way the drums work in the mix, it's a clever use of mixing and juxtaposition, and that guitar outro is classic church. again i don't want it to end.

slight return to the grove - mmm, yeah gotta get me some enlightenment. it's a nice touch, it really is.

sacred echoes - so strange this was never released as an ep full length, two new releases sold separately a few months apart. it's a marketing gimmick but the church have always been incredibly generous to their fans and here it is. epic. the final song. it's a universe in itself. three parts, three echoes, it's a phenomenal piece. another film. it's another kind of lament to a world gone. magnificent and powerful. again, would be epic to see this live. in fact the whole album would be amazing live. 

so much music, such a large canvas and so much to absorb, i'm overwhelmed and 17 songs, all killer no filler, a new kinda sound, a complete sound, a band of equals, developed and embracing an evolved definition of musical collaboration, the band all of them have created something stunning and huge, it's honestly impossible to review or dissect. i can only paint impressions. and i must thank the church for their music, and what it offers me in this life, for without 'the church' i would have no reason to look forwards except for a new book release from a fave writer but they are all dead so not much new from them. long live the church.

exhausted i'm woken early by a friend who needs assistance with two escaped cows that are terrorising his wife, they have escaped an enclosure and need herding and isolating. my friend has a massive property with various animals, pigs, sheep, hens, cows and goats. 

im no cowboy, i'm no farmer but like a good friend i jump in the car and we head over to capture these beasties. these are angry animals, they have big horns and charge us. we use various non lethal garden implements for defence, a broom, a chair and eventually a tractor. i don't have a clue what i'm doing,  we feed them some hay as a peace offering but these beasties just want free reign of the place, they wanna go where they are not allowed and two two legged idiots are not going to get in their way.

eventually we enclose them in a field. on the way back we stop at the bamboo buddha, and get coffee and some vegan toasted thing. the vegan toasted thing is so yummy, we get another. in fact i forgot how much i like bamboo buddha and make a deal o return tomorrow. maybe i'll get some pics. while finishing my coffee I meet two people i met in the maldives who are church fans so we catch up, talk about the symphony gig, which they didn't see, hopefully i manage to convince them to catch the show in newcastle or adelaide.

 

 

last night the church transformed the opera house into a swirling, technicolour dreamscape.
they'd done something similar years ago with the magnificent george ellis orchestra, a collaboration born from george's long-standing devotion to the band and his friendship with steve. that earlier performance has become the stuff of legend among fans, and i think it was even released on CD. this time the orchestra was slightly smaller, but from where i was, planted right down the front and soaking up every note, it lost none of the magic.
in truth, it's difficult to fully describe what unfolded. the show was billed as a psychedelic symphony, and that's exactly what it became. perhaps that description was made even more accurate by the fact that a couple of hash cakes consumed earlier had chosen that precise moment to announce their arrival as the lights dimmed and the band walked on stage.
i've seen the church hundreds of times over the years, in every conceivable setting, but this performance immediately joined the ranks of the very best.
the setlist struck a fine balance between favourites and deeper cuts. personally, i wouldn't have objected to a few more of their stranger, more abstract excursions and a few less of the obvious crowd-pleasers, but that's hardly a complaint. even the hits felt reborn. familiar songs unfolded in unexpected ways, rearranged and reimagined with enough fresh twists to make them feel new again.
if there was a standout moment, it was probably the longer pieces. those epic, slow-burning songs that begin almost tentatively before gathering momentum, building layer upon layer until they break free of gravity altogether and disappear into the stratosphere. those were transcendent.
what impressed me most was the restraint and intelligence of the orchestration. the orchestra never overwhelmed the band, not once. there was no battle for space, no symphonic excess smothering the source material. instead, it functioned as a living, breathing extension of the music, adding colour, texture and emotional weight. strings shimmered around melodies and punched holes through the rhythms, and entire passages seemed to expand outward into vast new dimensions.
the result wasn't a rock band backed by an orchestra. it was something far more interesting. for two hours, the church and the orchestra became a single organism, creating enormous waves of sound that were by turns beautiful, hypnotic, melancholic and exhilarating.
the band themselves were all enjoying themselves, ash and ian seemed to have some beautiful interplay and the guy who was standing in for jeffery was wonderful to watch, his parts were intricate and subtle, yet powerful. nick beat the skins as though he had been playing with the church all his life and tim created some of the percussive sculptures that give the church an edge and depth. steve's voice was perfecto, 100% on fine form, and in many ways i wish he could sit in the audence with me and just enjoy how good he and his band are. i love where the church are now, this is beyond being masters of their art, it's being groovy with it, that creative energy is powerful and potent and they play with it, just digging their own synergy. but you know what was beautiful, the outstanding harmonies. i loved just kicking back and listenig to them, watching them play out, and i don't know. not many things to uplift my spirit these days but the church live. i'm soaring.
a psychedelic symphony? absolutely.
for once, truth in advertising 
ps. i have heard lacuna. it is fucking amazing. 

after eisenhorn comes ravenor, whom was first introduced as eisenhorns protégée and was almost fatally wounded in a terrorist attack, left for dead. he was reconfigured although with no limbs, no face and contained in an opaque box made mobile by a suspensor chair, yet he focused upon his psychic growth and maintained his position as inquisitor. his team is a small group of exceptional individuals, and they hunt down their nemesis molotec.

so far it's a fast paced romp with page turning situations, ideas and scenes that are descriptive and shocking. you just don't know what's going to happen next or where this story will take you. i'm about half way through the first novel and it's so intense i can't put it down, unless it's to catch a breath. there's a lot more humour in ravenor than eisenhorn but the story is more fast paced.  

where's the god?

you gotta love this, simple, raw, emotional and honest. i love this stuff. everything sometimes need to be stripped back, exposed, vunerable. it's true courage to be that naked.  

anyways sun blazes down, it's a glorious day and last night i went to drumming at terrible beach, the skies were pink and light blue, it was magnificent, pastel colours and a variety of colourful people parade by digging the tribal groove as about 10 of us pound out some deep jungle beats. there's dancing, hula hoop girls, hallo hope girls and fire twirlers. there's cake being passed around, some pumpkin organic spice thing, light and tasty. i beat my drum and make sure i don't bang it. after a sleep I return to the beach for a coffee and watch people pass me by, it's a different vibe, faster. the ocean is amazing, with huge surf and a lot of white wash, i won't go in yet but can feel the pull. instead i sit in the sun and read a chapter of ravnor, my new dan abnett warhammer book 40K. it's very different from eisenhorn, more psychic stuff going on and more characters as ravnor tends to direct his team from within his weird box that keeps him alive and mobile. it's refreshing to read a lead character so disabled and fragile yet with such a strong mind and will. the characters are complex, it's more challenging, yet the story is fast paced and intricate, as they chase a new drug called flect on a hive world called hustic majoris. my fave character is a woman called patience kys who has her own introduction in a short story at the beginning of the omnibus edition. anyways, it's quite brilliant.

the sun starts to get a bit intense so i return to mission control and the cool space of home. indecently the front garden looks quite good, lots of weeding and clearance completed. 

last night a storm blew through, it was wild, and after a long summers day seemed refreshing and appropriate but this morning it's cold and damp. i spend a nice morning chatting with a friend, she gives me some mushrooms,  which i will micro dose over the next few months. on the way home i stop and buy a plant for my bathroom, it's a bit spontaneous but i can't stand a room without some fauna and my bathroom has a spot for one. it's deprived of direct sunlight and remains somewhat darkened but there is a small window and in the afternoon sunlight floods it for a couple of hours. usually i have to rotate plants but i hope this one finds a permanent home.

strange sleep, restless and filled with herds of wild horses, unicorns, fuans and satyers. i twist and turn, up and down and moving around like a tiger with a magazine. the sunlight breaks the morning, and i throw some laundry in, make a coffee and check mail etc. i dunno, checking mail these days just means deleting spam and junk. i dunno why i have the internet, it's 99% rubbish i don't need.

porn i guess. oh and music. and then there's book reviews and this blog, mmm, i guess it comes in handy.

well i drive down to a busy beach, it's kinda nuts but i manage to park and grab a coffee with two ladies, one is called summer although i call her lizard brain and one is called vanessa. anyway's i join them for my coffee and later we go over to the beach where the sun penetrated everything biting our skins like naughty needles, i see my pals moneque, andrew and peter who have just stepped out of a wild ocean. very dangerous. 

summer goes and we all sit around chatting and laughing, disclosing secrets, stories and tales. it's really great and horurs pass, when i look at my car clock on the way home, it's 1pm. nuts the day has reached past the halfway point. crazy. 

i do a little shop, i get home and do some writing, some sleeping, some cleaning, some listening and then some thing. it's dark now.

 

the papartments live from paris

casino life 

more from the apartments. 

 what's beauty to do

great guitars, mixed together, simple tones ringing out. another classic tune from australias least known band 'the apartments.'

these guys should be massive.

no song no spell no madrigal

i've always loved the sad songs, the really heartbreaking ones and this is one of those that i have recently discovered by an australian band based mostly in paris it seems although i think the main man lives in sydney now. i wish i had discovered them earlier as i would have seen them play. they seem to have slipped right under the radar and yet are magnificent. anyway's this reminds me of bubbles. last word on that subject.

the magos is the final book in dan abnetts eisenhorn series, it's the best one so far, although not really the conclusion, it is a conclusion. i can't decribe the perfection of this book, it all comes together very well and has more humour than the other books, it has pathos to and a story that will blow your mind apart. it's war but not like the war you imagine, it's cosmic and vast and on scales that trancend space and time. i loved it and am stright into the next series of inquisitor books sequence known as 'ravnor.'

the magos sees esienhorn older, frailer and at the late stages of life, his war against the warp has cast him far, an outcast on his singular mission. eienhorn is now embracing the weaponary of his enemy, he comes full circle, right back at the beginning. he is also exploring his singular force that has driven him forwards while loosing those he is closest to, the people who followed him. friends. 

 

big rain, heavy and unrelenting. i'm trapped in a cafe that is so bad it becomes entertaining. danni and i are in hysterics, we have never experienced anything like it. we have been coming here for a few months, it gets worse every day. the waitresses all hate being there, they hate their jobs, their customers and they resent everyone who seems to come in. they serve the wrong coffee to us, they forget the cutlery, they forget condiments, they get confused when you ask for toast and think you want a sandwich, they are rude, without humour, they are just angry and don't hide it.

it's hilarious, rain leaks in under the umbrellas, everywhere is wet, it's cold. but we laugh. danni just won a court case against a domestic violent situation, her neighbour has tormented and attacked her, the police have been hopeless and finally after two years she won. he's finished. i'm happy for her, i hate bullies, and before you judge me, i hate women bullies just as much, women are also manipulative, exploitative and play the victim, but in this case danni is just. and justice was done. 

i hope the sun returns tomorrow, may take a trip with her to the city, she needs to see dr. ranga. however, if it rains i'm staying home.  

as soon as i walk into work catastrophic events occur, a colleague has a brain tumour, he's a good guy, it's awful. a tree falls down and blocks the road, i just miss it hitting me. it's a big tree. a massive pipe bursts inside my workplace and we have to turn of the water. i put a protective shield around myself, it's extended out to my clients. whatever bad energy attempts to attack me will be deflected.

the rest of the day is uneventful, i'm getting tired again, maybe i need iron or maybe a good snooze. i listen to some ancient music, the sensational alex harvey band, very innovative and inspirational. i listen to some dylan, he's got the droll sneer i like in a lyric delivery, the attitude. i do a little writing, a lot of reading, sleep comes out of the darkness, it must be gone 2am and before i know it it's coffee and a shower. the days bleed into one another, one more to go befiore a break. 

up early, it's cold and damp but outside awaits two friends who are taking me n a mystery tour. we cruise around the coast, a few coffees here there, stop at macmasters for breakfast with whales, the ocean looks angry and powerful, it's the type i used to love for surf but now i look at it with horror and fear and respect. the girls in the cafe overcharge me and come out to correct their mistake which i end up leaving in the tip jar. the cafe is high up and across the water is cococabana beach. you can see the profile of the indian on the rocks. we drive across to coco, travel past some homes my friend built. he tells stories of his wild youth and who he was loaded. we listen to new music, young upcoming bands, nothing i particularly like, call me old fashioned. we stop all over the coast, hidden places, little beach, putty beach, lobster bay, coasters retreat, wagstaffe and end up at avoca. 

i have to take a moment to promote my friend iggy whom is also known as ed, he's out there feeding the rat. 

possibly one of the most exceptional people i knew in the old days, i encountered him on the bus when i think he was studying art, and he was the only other person who was reading a book. so when i asked him what he was reading it was always something good. ken kessy, burroughs, HST, tom robbins or something of that nature. anyway the guy was really smart switched on and had the kind of personality you don't find in small coastal towns. years later when he was no longer studying we crossed paths on an off, had some groovy conversations, at one point he was living the doaist monk life. and then decades later as a green haired punk he hung out with me for a few years, great conversations, dmt,  weird extreme stuff. i have to confess iggy was far more extreme, he was physical and did marathons, climbing and military commando stuff whereas i liked the surf and a good book.

ever since i knew him he had told me he would marry a japanese woman, and have a japanese daughter, and of course he did. i met her a few times and she is fucking amazing as well, as is his wife. anyway they are based in japan and iggy started an amazing extreme adventure company called, 'feeding the rat.'

they began as extreme ice climbers but i think they just do anything that involves high altitudes, ice and extreme cultures. occasionally we swap e mails and iggy is still the same, the most interesting guy i know, outside the box and sees things very differently from most people. unique perspective, part cosmic but from a highly evolved human. in fact I am certain iggy really comes from the future. 

anyway, here's his website. please check it out, if you like challenges and ice go book a trip, he's worth the experience and you will come away a changed organism.

FEED THE RAT

a vivid entry in the exit, skin up that wild one sister, we got hot bodies and alien flesh and there's no dancing at the end of this century. fragmented light vessel, bouncing from the disco balls, orbital mirrored walls, satellite of lust, crashing through the atmosphere, penetration penetrating, penetrating penetration. 

i uploaded into a new version of myself, he's better, faster, smarter and attractive, yeah from beast to beauty. he gets laid, he gets paid, he no longer gets the killing joke he tells it. he's got whiplash aura, he's got psychic splash, he's the elegant australian with a harem to match. no woman is safe from his raw gaze, as he slides into this new phase.

the babylon hoards outside the door, the cross street movements falling on the floor, you turkey attached morons, the idiotic fools, the zombie massive, i don't hear you any more. i'm far to gone, gone awol, m.i.a outta the door. catch me if you can't, i won before you start, i'm the olympic spirit and the beezulbub counterpart.

ah we do the fascist tornado, the ambient groove, it's a jungle stomp in the nude, it's the got no shame, it's the played my part, it's the fuck you baby, it's the end at the start. yeah do the holographic tango in yer heels and boots, jump out that space ship without a parachute, you got no class, no style, no grace but you got a nice ass and a real cute face. 

oh i had a late night, the day seems to slip by and work looms ahead. it's been lovely to have some time off and catch up on a few things, so grateful to have a lot of junk removed from mission control. heaps of books, a massive movie camera, lots of computer stuff, all found a good home and now i have a little space. i've been thinking about converting the loft into an office or something, one large room, nothing too complex. my one problem is access, where to put the steps plus all builders who specialise in this type of work are based in greater sydney not the coast. anyways, i have no idea what's possible until someone advises me on the structural issues. fortunately i have a friend who can do just that. so seeing as though the day is in slow motion i generally stay home, read, write, clean up and prepare for the next few days. it's going to be big, lots going on. i can't believe how exhausted i must have been, dangerously close to collapse but as usual i pull through. 

oh, i was sent two brand new church songs, from their overdue album lacuna, and they are all spectacular. yeah, it's exciting for me, a good motivator when your fave band inspires you. i mean not much else does these days. 

'hereticus' is of to a fantastic start, i mean it's quite brilliant and in context with what came before. my god, this type of writing is insanely good and the story telling although slightly adolescent is twisted enough to make it interesting. it's a mix of science fiction meeting dark fantasy and there are many nods to moorcock as well. well with no spoilers it's hard to explain, but I'm up to the part where eisenhorn has just crossed over the line. far out!

 

the big sleep, wow, can't believe i slept from 1900 right through until 0700, i must confess i feel amazing. a series of texts from a friend and i'm up and down the beach grabbing a coffee, sitting in sun, chatting away. 

unfortunate i have to leave early as i have some people picking up my solar panels, a great idea in theory but in a country run by morons it just benefits them and the chinese who make them. anyway they are old now and way beyond their lifespan. it's a hell of a job but as I write they have been picked up and taken. then a landscaper arrives to assist with the redesign of the back, the area I burnt accidentally, so gone are the blackened stumps and branches and a few new plants replace them. less of a fire risk, my neighbour requests the rubber tree is trimmed so he can get some sun, happy to oblige.

yeah it's that kind of day, lots of domestics, scrubbing, dusting cleaning, washing and general tidy up. spring. plus I have unbound energy. 

i've discovered a dictation software in word i can use, it's clumsy but probably good for putting together pieces of writing, i wish blogger had it but then I could always copy and paste.

i have some pounds sterling left over from my english trip, i took some to spend over there but no-one in london accepts cash so i returned home with the same amount i took. the exchange rate is pathetic, i loose $400 so i just figured i'd sit on it until it improves, but given the uk's economy and the au that may be a while.

now, a quick rant. i hate the woke left and right. i hate the governments of the uk and au. the greens especially and the stupid people that support them. the left are particularly stupid due to their arrogance and their preachy ways, i don't care if you are Hollywood or rock and roll royalty, don't tell me who i should vote for or what side i should take, keep your suicidal empathy for yourself, keep your faux compassion and virtue signalling. i have a brain, mind and i can make a choice based upon my own information, unlike most sheeple out there who think the guardian/ sydney morning herald and the bbc/ abc are purveyors of truth. fuck off. 

about to start the third and book 'hereticus' in the eisenhorn series, what an incredibley well written sequence, so far and if you manage to get the omnibus you also get a few extra short stories that link these novels. i'm really finding the writing excellent and the story absolutely riviting. the whole warhammer universe is so complex and rich, it's got no equivelient. even fantasy novels like tolkien cannot compare as there was one writer whereas in warhammer lore there are many. dan abbnett being the best.

 

up very early to shift the solar panels and fixtures which are at the side of my house. i had taken them down when i had the tiles replaced with colourbond roofing, and now i really don't want them. it was hard work, carring 12 panels across the pond but eventually i managed to complete this tricky mission. 

i'm not convinced these solar panels are any cost benefit, especially now the grid dosn't really subsidise you as much plus any panel has a life span of 10 years and mine are ancient. to be honest without a battery it's pointless. so good bye panels. 

my next big move is to clear some back garden material, it's a long time coming, have some nice plants to stick in as a natural boundry amd offer ultimate privacy. plus i have sorted out about 10 big boxes of stuff to give away to a friends son, i just have to work out when. it's solowly coming together, still a fair amount of work involved but hopefully by the end of the year i will have made a huge dent in the plan.

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.