Scribing 44 - The man with the giant hat

Watching the ether wobble
The certainty of reality is not so certain
The feeling in my body
Like a glazed spreading warmth

Not quite here
Somewhere else maybe
Need someone close to bring me down
To grab the string attached the ballon and tie me to a tree again

How I hate being dependent on other people
How much pain I've caused myself through isolation
We are inter-dependent but there are certain things we must do alone
Little pieces of identity I rediscover every now and then
Useful for a time and then I throw them away

Sometimes they return to me and I wear them for a while
Then I throw them away again
The clothing I wear and the shirts I retain through all of my wanderings is just one obvious physical example

The scarf, from a girl who didn't want me for a french ex-lover who was returning to town in Maidstone
The jumper I was given from a friend which is black, woolen (natural fibre) and long sleeves
Fitting all my criteria, from a bag of donated clothes to a squat/ community centre which was
largely dysfunctional, but I retain this piece of cloth for a time
The jacket from an army surplus store in Angers in France, I got it preparing for the snow in Ireland
But snow never came.
These black jeans from some op-shop somewhere, someone else's story attached
Socks given by a person I don't want to speak to at this time, due to a clash which has left a bitterness
And no undies to commemorate my hippiedom and my rights to the realm of free thinking
A punkish, poppy hair do, which I gave myself in Belfast which is slowly growing out and each day I look a bit more hippy

The teeth which are much harder to change than clothes or hair, chipped at the front from falling on a spinning play thing in a playground when I was little and then again from swimming into a wall, and the stains that cover the teeth which are a residue of the capping that was put on but the stains have got in underneath...
These too are pieces of identity that can be thrown away at the click of a button.
Teeth whitening and a good mouth job should do the trick

Identity is erroneous in a world of purpose
We propose to do something but we get in the way
Little pieces of somethings that nicker at the soul.

But then again, a memory is just a memory,
Character if not this, would be something else, and how is that different?
Cloth is just cloth
And tooth enamel is just tooth enamel in whatever colour or form it takes

This importance on identity we place
Is the value put on something that will never last

A purpose lasts longer
The moment lasts forever

If I commit to something outside of this body
That I will do regardless of vessel
Then that I will do
And whatever identity or pieces of self I put on for a while
Are only ever, can only ever be temporary

This clinging to identity is an endeavor to make the self into an eternal inanimate ornament sitting on the wall of time, trapped in a single shell

What a gloomy doom that would be

So why can't we tolerate change of identity midway through life in society?

Without a box to put you in
The misunderstood can not be understood
And this is a key ingredient for fear

We must let go of everything we have ever known to move forward
We must divulge or take on whatever aspect of character necessary to achieve our purpose
This is all there is

Scribing 43 - Dreamings of a lonely man

What is here
What is in this moment?

The birds, cockatoos I think
A whole flock of them, screeching and carrying on in bits and pieces
The wind, it flows the ocean of cloud above, the clouds move at such a pace
Where as if the same perceptual speed was mimicked by a person that was close
It would be creepy

Thus the clouds creep

The trees beckon the morning
A well tended garden of a friend, a sanctuary, filled with self
A place to be away when it all gets too much
They all just want to have fun
Have fun, eat, drink, die

This seems to be it
Is anyone really any better off for having a better head start in this system of money
The bamboo is looking a bit drab
What's caused this malfunction

The seats sit beside me, barstools around a high table as though they are expecting someone
Or as though they are people themselves, independent of people to sit on them
Thus self aware seats
They sit in a corner, possibly never to be sat on but they look conscious to me

I dreamed of the most wondeful sexual fantasy
And I'm starting to believe maybe I'm possessed
I had a cult leader tell me thiis once
I wasn't sure then if it was information meant to pry me to his purposes
As I am not sure now,
But this man is dead
There is no more purpose to pry towards, self interest can no longer be the key motivator
If the man is dead

How long will we be around for
...

The light changes outside
The clouds with a different glow have found their way in front of the sun
It will change again very soon
I love this tumultuous weather
It suits my temperament, helps me to think straight

There is no need for your defences here next to the River dear prince
The river is a place of community and sharing
The wind hurls the small loose branches of a weeping peppermint back and forth like the hair of a rag doll

Letting the flow come
Letting the flow go
Letting the flow enter the soul
Everyone is within
Everyone is without

Nothing is holy
Nothing is right
Everything is one thing

And then the rain it pours.
Each droplet like a lake
And then it stops.
Then the sun comes,
then the morning is heralded for a brief moment
Then the weather proceeds with its tumult.

Then the wind roars and claims ownership of the realm of sound
Yes, the wind is king
Because with it, we can hear no more

All hail the wind,
All hail the king

I love tumultuous weather
I love to observe the ebbs and the flows.

Scribing 42 - Leaving the past behind

I still feel this neck stronghold here
These defences so high
So high as to keep out everyone
What is safe? Who is safe?
Who is a threat?

Where is the threat?
Look for one and you'll find it
Oh little man walking around with your head walls so high
Who do you protect from?
Where is the threat but within yourself?

How can you protect yourself from the threat of isolation?
Of the character you've become and will become by isolating yourself from everything and everyone
With your giant glass walls that protect you from everyone
What mummy put the need for these walls into you so strong

Won't you let your guard down and sing a song
Let people in
Show yourself out of the crystal palace you've been hiding in so devout
Feel pain if it comes but don't expect it

Keep those walls down and down and down
Never throw them up again
Stop trying to protect from something, you've got no proof that it exists
You're protecting for the sake of protecting
Let your guard down and have a look

See what happens
Are you the reason the world's guard is so high?
What have you done? That should be the question.
You have to teach by example and let your guard down
Then the world will follow.

If you have to be killed for this, then so be it
Life continues and you continue in other forms
Life in a crystal palace of walls is no life at all
Let the walls down, walk from your stronghold
See what the world has to offer, in the freedom of love

It sounds corny but there it is
There isn't any other way to put it so succinctly
The world has defended itself against love
Well bring down the walls and let love in.

Scribing 41 - Parlour Punishment

Tackle the mountain
If you walk far enough you'll get over the mountain
And then it won't be in front of you anymore
So just keep on walking

The ticking clock and the gurgling fridge keep time for me
In a most delicate fashion
The glow of the orange light fills the air
In the distance a stairway can be seen

I have my coffee and once again
I have my space to myself
The times I stress about not having my space to myself
And the amount of times I find myself in the middle of space dedicated to myself

Is uncanny

I will always have what I need
This is a given
I do not have to be concerned with this
The spirit of the world has given me this gift

I keep doing what I do
I know everything I need is provided
It's not a license to sit back and freeze on it
It's a licence to jump out of the box frequently and try new and exciting ways of testing my reality

Maybe one day the walls will be paper thin
And I'll slip right on through to another dimension
We won't know that day has come unless we have a habit of testing constantly
Maybe one day the world will turn upside down and the stars will sit below the feet and the sun will be a fish in the ultimate ocean called infinite space

But until that day comes
I cannot know it will come

Things change just by watching them
We change when we don't watch ourselves

Addiction to starlight
Addiction of the weather that comes and goes
Addiction to growth and green and light and sounds

Addiction to density, to reality, to life, to love

The men sit on the parlour shelves ready for service
As the drooping gods come wandering down into the shop of ignorance
Pick me, says the suited man, I'll be your joy and pride
But no, the drooping gods want another child this time

The same run of the gun man as before in a black suit and a bowtie will not do this aeon

"We've had enough of you," and waves him on into the ether to be dissolved and reborn in the cycle of eternity

"We're looking for something more like you," pointing to a man slightly resembling a hipster with dreadlocks
Neatly patted down and a colourful bandanna.
We're going to mass produce little pieces of you
And place you all over the cosmos

Then we'll blame this infection of sterile hippy freedom on the new coming age of aquarius
You know, that damn movement in the stars all the new age bumkins are raving about

New age. What a whirl
Nothing is new, but new to some
Each cycle is like a washing machine
A new piece of dirt is introduced each time
And a new piece of golden thread is extracted

But not always, and this doesn't matter because the process cannot be rushed
It just takes time

Then there's the regulars
The ones who get in the wash every time the speed cycle up to 90 degrees is set
The Platos, the Bowies, the Beethovens and the Teslas.
They've been playing this little game of time for a while

You could say they're addicted to it
Like a man with his hand on a cock
pressing and pulling over and over again
And I don't excuse my crudeness
Because I can't think of anything more accurate to relate this to

We'll just get on with it then.

Where are you then?

Are you a safe spectre in the corner, something unknown and unseen but here every cycle
Or are you the stick in the wind to try and prove the cycles of humanity wrong
We like to test the walls, see how far we can push the barriers

No one knows, maybe one day they'll give

But until then, we'll just keep on testing

Hoping this prison of time is not infinite....

But the journey, the journey is the freedom and the goal of freedom is the illusion

But it takes a dark sardonic old man to realise that

And maybe that's what we're all becoming slowly
In this game of time
Dark sardonic old men
To stop fighting, to stop testing
And just do the journey thing without any qualms because that's all there is

There is no beginning, there is no end unless we search for it
There is only the inbetween the inbetween
The journey of journeys
The life within the life

And this life has no boundaries because the boundary is there only as a requirement to keep men inside a game
A park for lions and tigers and deer and fawn.

But introspectively, we are already at our destination
We are already here

Scribing 40 - In the end, we're all equal

From birth comes death
From life comes life
From death comes life
In death, we are all equal

The sun beats down on an unkempt garden
Beautiful in many ways but not in an organisational capacity
Which is funny enough
The organiser of such a garden is an organiser type

For some we only control completely what we can control completely
Then the slipping away of the rest of the world goes to its chaos
But the little pockets of order
Are driven by a need, an urge, to make things more and eternally perfect

The fruit sits in the bowl in front of me, in the middle of the table
Two apples
Two nectarines
Two bananas
Two avocados

The circular and oblong fruits are grouped in an arrangement of six
The bananas sit beside this grouping of six, in a splayed out but cozy fashion
Someone deliberately placed this fruit in this bowl
And a new order will emerge with the removal of one its members

The breeze comes through the house
The workmen making clanking noises in a construction site can be heard every now and then
The running of tap, the chopping of vegetables
The gurgling of an old fridge, kept past its time

The birds have their say
The crickets too
The colours in the spectrum are red, wood browns, beige and deep greens
In a painting of many people, smiling dosily as if they were all stoned

Everyone has a place
No one is left without
We all do what we do, feeling important because we are the group each one of us
And each small group within that is not joined with another is a potential whole of another group

Am I doing enough?
Am I helping enough?
Is things ok with me?
What does it matter?

The erratic thoughts that cloud the brain
Bringing me away from the moment
My company has a similar infatuation with the incessant wrapping at the window of the mind
So in a sense, the greatest test is before me
But also the greatest blessing

Time to practice my craft
Get my scales on
Move through the barrier of time and learn things for my body to repeat over and over again

Into the day and beyond

The races are on today
The men and women will shout and scream as horses run around a track
Many will drink and bet money
And this is the thing that we do

We drink and we bet money
Until we are dead

And then we do it all again.

What a life.

Scribing 39 - Strong sun finey day

Here in this apocalypse of the morning
Where the sun comes to call for just a second,
Then the rain comes with avengance
Then the clouds, the wind, the trees swish and the hammocks hang

This semi-model of an apocalypse
The turmultuousness of it all
We all just go about in our business
Continue, continue, continue

Nothing changes
Apocalypse is coming
Oh no bother, just continue as you were
Apocalypse is here
Oh no bother, just continue as you are
Apocalypse has come to take your life and your values
Oh, we'll replace them with new ones, we'll find another way to experience life,
There will be a way on the path you will see

Nothing changes
But everything is changing constantly
The tent of was warm
The sun, in its little spurts is scorching
But that's just Aussie sun.

Things are changing all around
The world is changing
Those that have ears let them hear
Those that have eyes let them be aware of what is to come

By now the trust in yourself should be complete
And if not, you'll learn quick in the turmultuousness of the apocalypse
or you will die fighting like a warrior, dieing a warrior's death

To wake up in another algorythm of the apocalypse
In another time, in another place
The world and its values are shifting
The times are changing
The dimension we currently inhabit is having its cyclical rebirth

We will change
And change forever
To change again
Into something else resembling change
to return to something we were before
In the cycle of nines
We draw inspiration from nature and from every living thing outside of our control

We watch the stars constantly to hope the shift moves our light in our favour
We prepare for doom when we see it and we do not convince ourselves that the doom is not coming
For the sake of an easy comfort

How we fearlessly face fear
We the remnants of the apocalypse of nines
We are the true born saints
And into this realm we transform towards a new millenia

Scribing 38 - Quantum Entanglement

The girl form the room eats her yoghurt and honey
Scraping the edge of the bowl with precision
Taking little pieces of the edge of the blob that is her breakfast
Slowly consuming as an animal first using a spoon

The wall is filled with designs
Patterns repeat
A rose, a flower, a cat tail
Some leaves

The little chickens arouse from their morning
All the hustle and bustle is getting them hooked on the idea of attention again
The wind it comes
The trees they sway

The air stays warm

This body has fast moving blood
The coffee, sweet and bitter

This is something I've been doing for years
And to have someone so close question what and why and how
To impose an authority on it, as though I need their approval to continue
Then not to receive the approval entirely

Well I find that slightly offensive. Don't you

Or quite possibly this whole excursion is in my head
And I should just do what I do
And not regard what is around me
Not be so empathic

Just be me

What is me?
With such a big gaping hole in my soul that can filled with anything

My voice is very gentle
I've noticed how people react to a different tone of voice
A gentle tone
I'm naturally gentle at this moment

We aren't logical
To assume that human's behave logically is a grave error

She has to read her apple book tonight
This is apparently of key importance

I love myself
Love yourself
Everybody today, practice the moment and enjoy yourself in love

Nothing can move me from love.

Scribing 37 - Sanctity

The sun beats down on my skin
Hoping to fit its needles of light into my dry stone corpse

There's always a token chainsaw
Someone with a power trip
Someone pretending like they're doing something useful
While they disturb the peace

Yes, it's true
Sometimes chainsaws are necessary

How precious it is to have your own piece of land
In a reasonable quiet place
Spread out, not too affected by people from other realities

How much this world has pushed us away from each other
Our community spirit
Should be so hard and strong

I used to be so angry
I am still at times
But anger has proven to achieve very little productiveness

Anger seems to be the raw energy from which things are made
Not much intellectual thought, at least not an entire spectrum
Can be had while in anger

If you  want someone to talk to
Talk to a tree
Fall in love with tree

When did we make it strange to speak to ourselves
Because it is not equal
Even if you were speaking to something
A person that is near cannot participate
And it is divisive
What is unequal is divisive

Like two people speaking another language in front of a bunch of people that speak something different

Secrets cannot be kept
What is perceived to be achieved through keeping and maintaining secrets is largely an illusion

Everything has a place though
We can toss and turn in bed and stress and strain about everything the world is doing
or what other people are doing
And the world stays the same, the people stay the same

The perspective does not change
Everyone is the same
Everyone is the same

The self chooses different pathways of perception and therefore chooses how reality is created
Perceive light or perceive dark
The common denominator is perception

Selective expression of portions of perception when you can see much more than just one perception
Now that is the definition of being a god amongst sheep

Because the choice of expression, based on the perception you choose to highlight
Creates what you want within the world of thought
Use your powers for good

Let's return to community
Let's see everything as community again

Community is our sanctity

Our precious piece of healing possible for everyone

Community is the answer to all of human's problems

Isolation both inside and out, is the cause

Scribing 36 - Passionate Wednesdays

The sun hit's the leaves from an angle
I can't see the sun
So they give audience to something invisible
Captivated, giving their direction
As much as a tree can give

I want to use facefuck
I want to be the most popular man in the world
With lots to say and do
And a million likes to see, and comments to reply
Every time I look at my screen
Every five minutes

My neck is less tense than before
I've got to love people
I can't go on hating people or holding grudges
I want to love them


Say what you need to politely without anger
it's easy
Not always is everything so clear
Give people the benefit of the doubt
Even people I might be convinced are rocking the boat with the intention of rocking that boat

Boats are boats and they rock
But yes the analogy is not complete because we can do what we like
We can also live in a world where peace and contentity exist and there are no boats, no ocean, and no rocking
And it's not an invitation for a hater to call it boring
It just is what it is

Here I am at the desk of some home that some individuals are starting a community within
Watching plants is like watching people
We all slightly change and grow

So much raw food out there today
So much waste retrieved to be used again
There is no limit to what we can do together

Many of us need healing
Time loops to come around and around
I don't want to feel pain any longer than I have to

Trust people more
Love people more
Open up to them
Be more kind

Love yourself
And through this, learn to love others.

We all want what we want
We all do what we do

Scribing 35 - The Death of Motive

There aren't many cars on this road
But the one's that do come
Reverberate through the entire house as if to deliberately amplify them
When there is a motorbike
It is an experience

I'm still feeling a little closed
That conflict in the night really set me off
How hard it is to deal with emotion as it comes
Not to spill it onto anyone else in other ways

But to get it out as it is
To be around people that care about me
So they wish to listen and feel the pain that I feel
Which helps make it go away

For so long I've bottled up
And felt this thick skin crawling out of my inner being
This untouchableness
This numbness

I don't wish to be this numb thing anymore
I want to feel
I want to care about others
I want to be happy

In order to stand we must do what is in front of us
One day at a time
One breath at a time
Not expecting a mountain loud

But having the time and the space to sit with someone and just let them say what they want to say
Actually being interested in what they are saying
I experienced this for the first time coming back

Part of it might have been the energy of return
But I felt I was battling projections of my past put onto me by others
And to let them slide like water off a ducks back
I simply had to breathe and be who I am

Just like now.
Who am I now?
Am I my emotion which I keep bottling up?
Am I any of these thoughts which are running through my head?

I don't want to be any of this.
I want good friends around me
I want to feel loved by all
I want the closeness of community

For so long I wanted the world to die

Not anymore...

Thank you Ireland, Thank you France, Thank you Scotland, Thank you all the people on my travels
I love you and I'm grateful for your contribution to my awakening
It is time to be awake
And I love being alive

I want to continue like this forever.

I still feel the nickling at my soul
But I see a path like I did once before
It is clearer this path for me now
I want to know myself better
I want to be in concert with everyone else
On a railway of love.

Scribing 35 - Anxiousness

I feel the neck tumbler come for a time
I feel it hover
Up the spine in the neck
Blocking blood

I focus on touch
I focus on my feelings of who I am
I breathe and focus on that

The immediate environment, the birds, the trees, the traffic, the chai, the very big loud noisy truck, the bicycle
Bring it all here
The camera, they are watching, someone somewhere, or something
Oh well

I returned to this time of the week with just the right amount of money to finish with a chai this morning while I wait for my busking slot
I'm pretty proud of this foresight
This precognitive assimilation

The ticket home
The chai
And back to zero.

Earning again in exactly four hours and five minutes and 26 seconds
Four hours of no money
Will I despair in fear
Will I reside in pain
I've still got a chai
For the moment I'm fine

So, say I last an hour here if I stretch it.
I could really stretch it and piss off the cafe staff...

The library should open soon
The park is always open
The sun is out
The birds of paradise still shoot their wings

Everything is going to be ok
In this period of four hours of moneylessness

Please don't get me wrong,
I've done it before for much longer
And with a little less cognitive planning

I've arrived in a random town in france
With no money
Not knowing I was going to be there, hitching a ride north was my aim generally
And I was faced with a decision

Open up
Or stay closed

Closing meant, finding a hole to crawl into
Opening meant taking advantage of what opportunities I've got and talk to people

I found a place to play music within the hour, I earned thirty euros from that
I found a place to stay with some other street musicians
First it was dinner
But in a flat of exactly 6 x 5 metres squared and five people already there
They didn't want to send me to stay in a park and camp
Which was safe and possible at the time
So I stayed there too, crammed in but quite content

And I stayed for a while
Hosted by their host when they left

All this opportunity because I remained open
Because I made the choice to let down my defences and speak to people

Connection is so very valuable
Isolation has its place
But really, humans need humans

People need people

Scribing 34 - Unconditional Sharing and Vulnerability

When the demon asks for you to play
The triggers are the same as they've always been
It's the fact that you've presented yourself openly
When the demon walks right in

Never be dependent on another physically
Always find a way to be independent
The world is a dangerous place full of dark terrors
Love and unconditional love, exist but are rare

Be open to change, be open to love
Be open, but not by force.
It certainly is difficult when you open up
and the first friend that you thought you trusted takes a righteous liberating swing

We quickly divide the wheat from the chaff
Remember not to take it all so seriously
The world is changing quickly
Life is changing quickly

To be truly unconditional in your sharing means being open
It means being vulnerable
It means being open to attack to those that would attack
And no one can stop every attack

No matter how high their defences

Take basic steps to steer clear of obvious situations
But seek to trust more and more people in a group or community setting
It's so hard at times, yes, I agree
But without this depth to the difficulties there would be no reward like we have so long enjoyed

I love you earth,
I love you night,
I love you sky
I love you hate
A need to justify
Where did it go wrong?

The crow caughs in my ear loudly reminding me of some long lost secret

There's a power within the human, passed on by trauma
In this trauma we recreate experiences of the past within other humans
Allowing for more trauma
Chances to change, we get so many

I don't want to be this angry being anymore
But this demon has invoked me so well
And I fell for the bait and got out

To think that I can help people
This is probably the crux of the issue
Then in a moment of complete vulnerability on a day I think I'm getting somewhere with them
Out comes the knife in a most unexpected way

This time I exploded
I was an atomic bomb
I screamed in their face
While they took the power trip of me losing control in

Never again, never again, I said.
Never again, what?
I say to myself now.

Never again will I go out of my way to help people
Because I feel like I can
Because I feel obligated to do so
Because I can see why they are experiencing so much pain and want to show them

Because everyone of these people are like that for a reason
And their own choices on their own path,
Choosing to follow whichever demon's whisper
Is their choice

And I cannot change a cause by alleviating the symptoms.
The cause being a core decision to never change

I don't want to be this angry thing anymore
I don't want to be so well defended like I have been

So many have defences against me
I open myself up and someone cuts me deep

I must at least expect it to a degree
Should I
And this expectation leads to creating what I expect
Because every judgement and expectation and moral law
Is a doorway in for the other's shoulder phantasm to cuss

How to remain clean and enjoy life
How to keep the energy high without losing it in defences against people that have made their choices

I'm so scared.
I've never been so scared in my life
I enjoy what I've come back to
I enjoy what I am now because I have become much more open

I can speak about people's lives and actually have interest
Without having to plan how to get out of the conversation
I'm actually interested
I've never been like this, unless I'm drunk
And I'm not drunk

I don't want this situation to close me up again
Please God, keep me open
I want to feel pain
But I want to deal with it better

I want to experience life
Real life
Real happiness
Help me in my chains, I need to feel you are there.

I love myself,
I adore myself,
I love life,
I adore life,
I love this earth
I adore this life
I love this person
I adore this person
I love this sun
I adore the sun
I love the trees
I adore the trees
I love people
I adore people.

There was a time when I wanted everyone dead through some selfish judgement of human behaviour
As the only way out for the planet or humanity

Now I see there is a way
There is an underlying culture of sharing
Within everyone of us
And we can all attach to that
And bring it back

There is the choice.

To share unconditionally without conditions
Well that's what that means.

Scribing 33 - Return

Impatient fiddlings dominate the morning
Four am again, it's becoming a thing
Lots of morning time to do lots of things in the morning
The clock on the wall marches forth on second at a time

Time stops for no one

The wind breaks through the trees outside as a plane makes an airish hover through the upper cloud strata
A pipe clatters every now and then
For whatever reason, maybe a bad childhood
It requires continues and consistent attention

Now the present distractions are down,
I continue

It's ok to open up
It's ok to be who you are
It's ok to feel pain
It's ok to love yourself

It's ok to be angry
It's ok the cry

Blocking these things and putting up fences on your behaviour
Have caused you so much grief

The whole, I'm something I'm not thing
Wasn't really working out for you
And now that you have gone around and departed and returned on an 11 year time loop
It seems the opportunities to continue with the original dreams are more clear and more fantastic

Great responsibility comes from seeing much
Great experience dictates a level of sight, into many things
Honest introspection helps to purify these visions
And continueing doing what you do, solidifies intention

Get the cup of tea, Dilmah
Get it
It's coming , the T, it is coming

It's coming, the over purified water is boiling, wait

Scribing 32 - Detained

A couple of days before detainment on the 28th of the 2nd:

I feel alone by the fire
Nowhere to go
Still searching, still looking
Who would know

I have reams, I have thoughts, I have doubts
Where is the road paved with gold
I, the last little child, with the fancy shoes
Lost my home

Breathe in, breathe out, there you go

The sky knows where you want to go, Fly to it
The lord knows where you want to go, be with him

28/02/2017 (On first being detained in Belfast I was told I could only be held at Larne for three days maximum)

Ambitious, that's one word for it
Hopeful? But that's not quite right either
3 days of forced solitude
In sterile rooms
with sterile walls
and sterile food
and sterile entertainment

I've got a single book
Every hour there is a welfare check
Make sure that you're well and fare
Check to see you haven't harmed yourself
You the product
You the commodity
to be returned to the place you were born
for reassignment

Continue
take a sip of your favourite strong imaginary drink
Pretend intoxication
Thank Ireland for her graces
Thank you Ireland for your graces
My life is a poetry
and I'm being detained and sent home
by the same imperialism
That has tortured you so hard
For so long

Thank you Ireland for your love
Don't weep for me in here
Just be what you are
Love yourself so
Thanks a million
It was grand, I had good craic.

...

I touched the sky
It set off an alarm
And an attendant came to make sure
I did not escape

I read trash fiction like a scientist
Trying deep to squeeze out some substance

The light switches off every ten minutes automatically
So I get some light exercise
and a reading break

Will I remember what I am now?
As good information by which
To change my behaviour

4 days here, 7 days there, one day flying
Lots of explanation
saving, saving, saving
Go again

Remember this one thing
If nothing else
I can learn from everything

Please dear god don't let me get stuck in the land down under.

01/03/2017

The end, the end, the end is nigh
A lovely bountiful, beautiful feast
Inner turmoil, Inner conflict
I can push it all out for this moveable feast

The plan to end the world is fabulous
Every drip drip drip is falling like warm blood
off a freshly cut wound
Keep the mind busy
that's the big thing

The dark density of my brain
falls to the floor
I don't belong in Australia
I must get out of Australia
Again the scramble to escape from hell
Work hard every day, move on

I sit in my stone cell
Hoping for some nibbles of interest
I'll go back to reading
I have four days here to do reading

You think you've got it bad
Coming from where you came
And where will you go?
Going to where you go?

Trapped, the pattern that is me
Stop fighting it, no escape
Do what you can with what you've got
everything I do is poison,

then poison the demon's water.

05/03/2017

Happiness is simple
Depression is complicated

Click to Enlarge

06/03/2017

One more day and a half
In the jail called detainment
I stare out the window
Nostalgia sets in
Because beyond the razor wire fences
I can see the makings of an english forest
I lived in the forest once
A fellow detainee has a loud music device
He seems to think we all enjoy modern pop
Who cares really
It's expression
We've been locked up for the night
Like little children
And then we're free
The unlocked door, says we're free
free to associate with other detainees
Free to get some breakfast
That's the definition of freedom right now
It changes from moment to moment
Locked up regularly for a role
The sun outside gives me joy
People in and out of detainment
for no apparent reason
Immigration are bullies asking to see the same thing over and over again
The forest outside, I cannot go there
Don't go to a new country for a new life
We live a lie here, you've soon discovered
Stay where you are and change what you are
from where you are - simple

Return to your hometown
And wreak havoc amongst the stars
Shake the ground
And let the world know
You are here

Do not run any longer
Do not be a coward
You must face the truth

Be what you are
Where you are
I know it's hard
And it's easy for me to say
But, change what you are
Where you are

Stand and do not be moved

...

The meaning of life is to keep the mind busy

The makings of the sigil designs

06/03/2017

Living in a detention centre
in many ways
Is just like living in the homeless centre in Sydney
three meals a day, lining up a queues with despondent men
Getting locked in at night
Except in the detention centres
I don't get the luxury to venture out into a thriving mono-culture
Keenly observing insanity in progress
Pressing my cold hands on the cold glass
of the walls of moneylessness

No, here the walls are cold concrete
Here the illusion of freedom
is replaced with actual captivity
Here, reality is real
As far as the system is concerned
No money
No freedom

...

Gangster synopsis

The 'gangster' is a pre-approved, pre-packaged
pre-programmed deviant archetype personality
that plays a key role in society
The 'I'm big and powerful because I say so' position in the matrix
This masculine comradery
Rapping, yelling, yo yo yo
Movies TV
Everybody wants to be the sugar daddy
and if you're not 'chosen' and still want power
well the system has provided a way through its system of organized deviance
'the gangster'

It provides a way for even the baddest badass to feel belonging in a closed system
the system designs its own demons
its own angels
and it's own wars

Gangster rap, gangster movies
badass badasses
yo yo yo, yo yo yo
A false wall of narcissism
hidden within a man's high defences
illuminated due to a tough situation
unable to look himself in the eye

"It's cool to kill
You too can be tough!"

feel nothing, throw away your feelings
It's cool

real world drama, real world pain
are created by a gangster fantasy archetype
feeding on lost boys search for belonging and identity
feeding an industry of security
feeding the industry of fear and war

It's all about being the biggest man
In a dog eat dog world
there is no choice for equality in this world
your only hope for a taste of freedom
Is a favourable place in the pecking  order of males

The finished Monikarus Sigil design

first in first served
bigger muscles
bigger guns
more ruthlessness
you're the winner
well done big man

so you've failed at status society
You can still be a gangster and still have a status
be a part of this ever expanding white light lie and live forever.

... (Brook house is the name of the detention centre at Gatwick Airport where I was being detained)

"Attention Brookhouse
Activity time is now over
Activity time is now over"
Like we are little children
playing at playschool
My activities haven't changed since
I was locked up on the room before dinner

Being white and born in the right country is not enough
You must always also have been born in the right family

...

07/03/2017

I look forward to looking out the window
to see past the razor wire fences
and into the great beyond
some countryside
some beautiful heath, some tree and farmland
I wonder how it looks in summer
all greened up and lush

Well I still have coffee, even if it's cheap coffee
I dreamed of my piano
which i played for some people
in some derelict beat and tune
and then i put it on the front seat of a public bus
next to the drive
I was unlucky to be picked up where I was
I got unlucky
I faced some anti-energy
that wished to send me back from where I came

I played the piano on the bus for a short time
I couldn't get it off in time through fear it was too heavy
But a girl that was following me left the bus
with the piano on her back

I went after her
having been confused of where the piano had gone
She got off at a service station
climbed a hill
and planted it in the ground next to other trees that men had planted there before
because the piano was a piano and also a tree
It was a kind of chunky pandan sugar cane
two of them
I wasn't angry
But there was a part of me that was
I wanted to find the girl to ask her questions
I found her in the back of someone's ute
filling up petrol at the station
She said one thing I don't remember
Then her hosts drove away
rashly
Not caring what their hitchhiker had to say to what friend
I felt like the piano was where it was meant to be
So I felt liberated for the trees
I also felt robbed that I could never play the piano again
but I felt this was conceited to think this way
because my dominant instrument is/was now a guitar
and I wasn't going to play the piano like I did ever again
So it's true a girl planted my piano
And it will grow into beauty

I better be there to water it once in a while
the root stock needs nurturing in it's first few days
my beautiful, beautiful tree
and the cheeky girl that planted it for me
Knew full well where it belonged

...

Are you ready to return to the place from whence you came?
You learned so many things about music, people and yourself on this trip
What will you do with all this life experience?
Twiddle your cock in the corner?

NO, you will stand
You are prepared for a purpose
Chosen, by yourself
To be extraordinary

Move
Wait
Move
Wait

RUN

Run when it is conducive to run
Go faster and faster and never stop
Then flow
and allow others to take the heat
because you alone
cannot be this conduit of a star
the energy is too great for one
It must be taken in turns
Until you expand infinitely
into the nothingness of space
and expand infinitely into yourself
and discover what its like to be
God in your universe
to be to blame
And to praise
For all things.

The end, the end
Tender
Give the old man what he wants
Get a free prize

Humanity
It's what all the decent sages are after these days
There are days of old
These endings
These dark times
Before the eternal light of days

Sing
Sing
Sing