when you reach yer fifties the govt. should give you a little handbook warning you about what to expect, you know those ladders and trees you used to clamber up like some clever monkey, feeling the urge to swing across rooftops, one handed juggling, defying gravity, well, give it up. the eyes begin to get all blurry when you want to read, the ears start making their own amusement up, the constant ringing of bells, telephones, alarms, sound effects that don't exist outside your own skull. the knees begin to ache and old war wounds pulse and throb in tormenting agony before the rain, it's all very disturbing. then there's hair growth, mine beyond any normal rate grows like a mutated wild mop of black curls, something from ancient times or at least the sixties. 
my hair is longer now, i gave up shaving my head to become something else. people say i look younger. i feel older looking back at myself when i was younger, that character was a weak force, now this one is stronger, inversely proportional to my psychical form. the gods must be laughing at this joke they play on us.

i have a long skype with my mother, she's telling me about the awful things the english did when they were colonising the world, they were fucking barbarians she said. it's hard not to disagree, now they are paying the price. sins of the fathers i guess, some strange karma, it gets everyone, thankfully.
i have a great respect for these laws, unwritten, beyond comprehension, they exclude judgement itself, factored into the oblique intelligence that drives the universe. everything has a karmic value, every act, deed, action, thought and intention. configure your own and the world will change for the better. the human mind can't solve the machinations of the karmic wheels but it can adjust it's influence. 

i think about a trip to the uk, i'd like to se my family, i miss jake, i miss him more than i could even begin to write. i really want to see him but will have to wait for the right moment when our planets align. i want to see my father, he's chatting to me a lot about the war, being an apocalyptic old man he knows the score, 'don't worry about it, the apocalypse is a personal event, both cause and effect, a singularity within us, spread the love, spread hope, go beyond fear, go beyond paranoia. 

it's overcast, a threat of rain as black clouds immerse the skies. all nature hangs in wait, birds frozen in flight, animals still. expectation, a pre storm breeze blows through the garden as the fronds of my ferns and palms dance like elegant gymnasts on a bar. sunlight streams through the clouds, and then my solar panels arrive and rebecca clambers around my roof, as captain mission makes coffee and marvels at her agility and practical skill. solar power is almost here.