Scribing 57 - Sanity in Question

Sample the free love at the open table
He said it, you said it, we said it together
No one person is out of innocence
All the broken people weep

Golden tears
Golden years
A golden age of openness
To all those in question of sanity
New life will form

We eat from the trough of rationed delight
What the previous age left for us was just scraps
We make a kingdom out of scraps
Pan's labyrinth

We do what we do until we are dead
When the magic runs out
The broken people weep
Golden years

Scribing 56 - Doldrum Burdalurm Bunga

Houses need people
Houses need life

The sunset was so splendid this morning
The plants sit and wait for the rise to reach their leaves
Unconditional empathy
The curse that can be a blessing

The cloud that sits above the eyes
Breathing, get that energy moving
Sometimes things are better left unspoken
The intellectual mind cannot be given a place in this future

The listening public wants someone shy and timid
This is the capacity for their ability to receive
Where will you go from here?

The footsteps rattle the floor
The floor boards crack and tackle as the heavy body shifts from one room to the other

Soon we'll all be together forever again
A shower will be in order
A change of clothes, a washing of all things cloth in my bag
A new sowing kit to bring broken things back into workingness

Standard recollection
Transmission feed interrupted
Heavy eyebrow, keep breathing

No wrong, no right
Wandering flicking, frizzing, branches of the weeping peppermint

We only have what we need and then we are off
Fame and fortune are not to be had this life
These are spectres of the imagination
Ghosts of time

Who wants to be a ghost in time
When time is a prison

We live forever by working together
We die in hell by isolation

Balance
Get that balance
It sounds quite simple

The man that cannot sit and wait for the right time to do things
Is the man that cannot sit and wait for the right time to do things

Punchy proverb expected here
Apparition master
Sexy man

Scribing 55 - Practical Singularity

One man
On the event
The glimmer of hope in the distance
The shards of expression fall in a sharp and delightful way

The flat expanse on the eye
Over the edge of the world
Au bout du monde
I return soon

We only have as much as we put in
If hard yards were put in
Then hard yards will be taken out
But the spontaneous arousal of energy from the mire
Can bring unpredictable seasons

The drama queen wants to play
The sun on this wooden table, makes it sticky
In just a few moment I walk through three class lines
Now I'm back to eclectic traveler
Probably french
I started as bum this morning

I have a lot of people tell me my accent sounds french
I take it as a compliment

The expensive hipster coffee lasted nowhere nearly enough
I'll have a jangle of my little instrument before I head for my abbreviation
Into the darkness I go
Out and into the conscious realm
In and out, in and out

Pictures on a landscape
The horizon of time
Every morning a new set
Like photos in a time line

Transcendence

The matrix has you

But what a tired analogy that has become

Sand back the crap and start a fresh
Every person has hidden things that reveal when the day has come

What will we discover about you?

Scribing 54 - Relevant Positivity

Recluse, male, 31, the beach is wonderful this morning
Frisbee, lost, white, 2 years
Grass, authoritarian garden, weeds, rebellion
Seagulls, vultures, gah gah 'gah'
Swish, swish, gentle ocean waves

Coffee, filled with sweet things
A lady gave me a pot of honey yesterday
Karri honey from Pemberton
That's where I went bush after selling everything ten years ago
And the Karri is my favourite tree
My exchange was piano in a public place
A romanian scale
And her familiarity

Green, green grass
Feeling optimistic
Sky, blue
Horizon, smog

Dots of coloured and lighted wonder scatter across the lighted sky

Frisbee, poor lonely frisbee
Who will play with you again?
Upside down, without a home
Where will you go from here?

Has your planned obsolescent time frame expired?

Maybe you'll be picked up again
And your cheap plastic renewed with fresh oils of lavender and myrrh
Maybe you'll see two more days in the sun before your saviour comes

But you're in such a public place
Someone is bound to pick you up

And play like you have been played once again
To be sailing through the air
In parks with laughing children
to be occasionally chomped by a dog that runs off with you and leaves you in the dirt

Is that how you got here this time?
The dog beach is just over there
How will we console you when you plastic is broken?
To what level will we offer our condolences and blessings?
Are you worth the funeral of a feeling living thing?

Are you feeling and living just because feeling living things use you and play with you?

The air is your sense
And sailing you will fly
The earth beneath you as a disc of green radiance
And you hovering just above and snatched in a warm quivering beige hand

Then tossed and again

Oh frisbee...

Scribing 53 - Antonyms for Change

Stasis, static, still, stopped
The kids have gone to school
They've finished their gelatine free yoghurt
The wriggling snake toy sits beside me mangled in a chaos

When it feels like this wave comes in ebbs and flows
Listening to the cockatoos screech and carry on in the morning
It's quite a feast for the ears
The sun has fallen down just low enough
The plants catch their rays

Off on a bus and two trains back from whence I came
Stability can really only be had in breath
We are mangled pieces washed ashore
Sitting around in stasis
Watching the sun rise and fall
Eating gluten free bread
and expensive things for the sake of feeling worth

The cockatoos have subsided
The crows are in town
Their reign now continues on for the next few hours
At least until the sun gets too hot

Each is king of a different time of day
Each aspect of humanity is the ruler of every aeon
In some cycles we suffere
In some we flourish

The ones we suffer are the ones we breath and focus on introspection and pause for relief
The ones we flourish, we flourish and hope to make a world in which all ages are equal
But shit, this addiction to the ups and downs through the ages
That's a hard drug to shake

We power ourselves in the down time
We express our power in the up time
We're locked in as long as we long for power

It's a locked control mechanism

Here comes the turning of the next cycle
The next aeon
We can switch reality channel and find another dimension
Something similar but different
But the ages are secure
The ages do not change

We wander to and fro searching for some sort of stasis
Our stasis is within
Our satisfaction can be self contained
Everything is here
We wander fruitlessly, aimlessly
But love prevails

One day we learn
This endless battle/love with the self
We feed each other
Or we don't eat at all.

Scribing 52 - A man on a giant leash

Where do we go from here?
We've climbed the highest mountain
We've done the most famous things
Now we are at a point
Again
of having to be ordinary

The girl, the one
That stirs up the confusion
Unaware of what she does
But answering the the beck of an entity in the shadows
The emotion to flow is its aim
It knows I can see
But by seeing I acknowledge
And then it is gone again

But I take on this energy
I take it into my body
And it takes days to process it
It can generate quite defensive behaviour
Because I don't have the time or the energy to do anything else

I go through a stage of not be heard
Not being listened
Because my energy is not within the communication
People need a carrot on a stick
Every word is a carrot
Without the carrot but with the action, there is no motivation to comprehend
So words that are said are left out of mind

The birds know source
The plants know source
The cars, even, know source
I sit and I have to process this energy that another has given me
Triggered by a word, an intention

This thing knows when defences are up
And it comes out when defences are down

The world of entity is an interesting place
Feeding on emotion
Guaging and creating a reaction
Keeping the wheels turning
Feeding, feeding, feeding

We the humans just do these triggers on ourselves and each other
While these things they feed
And between us, they get a feast

Then some believe the benefits out weigh the cost
But the entities don't make deals that aren't in their favor
They're not stupid
They're not anyone's slave

That's their right to choose
That's their choice

To think you have the upper hand
Or even that you have control
Is a sure definition of
Stupidity

How long will you fight these things
Until you die?

Then enter another dimension
One where they don't exist
And human behaviour is static

This is the most hated by them
Because they need your skeptical belief in them and their abilities to survive

This article of writing has created a doorway,
Play the game of hierarchies
Where everybody has a daemon
The abilities of the world piled on
Gathered life after life
Then retaught

There will always be a lesser and a greater in this world
This is why it must be discarded

The rulership of hierarchies has gone on for too long.

Scribing 51 - Emergency Mustaches

Kids at the table eating yoghurt
It's vanilla and not natural this is a happy thing for one of them
Remembering birthdays is a hard task
I make excuses as to why we don't need them because of my lack of rememberance

Yoghurt can't be hot
But yes it can,
If you heat it up
Ohhhh!

Talking subject of the table
The man drives the car into the driveway
The sun bleaches the wood veneer floor
We all have to do what we have to do

We don't have to do anything says the free mind
But what is free
And what is the true definition of mind
Keeping up appearances

To some capacity we all have to move
What about these people, or that people in that country
Is that moment here now?
What is real in this moment?

What is felt, what is here
The immediate environment
What can I control?
What should I only observe?

Have you finished your yoghurt?
Pomegranate is the new goo
When guns are made out of wrapped toilet rolls
For the sake of entertainment

Those poor toilet rolls
What can I do
What can be done?
How much control did I assume over my reality?
How much do I actually have?
How much do I pride myself in having on a day to day basis?

What is delusion?
What is real?

What is wanted?

Cardammon coffee.
I can put cardammon in my coffee or not
There that's control
I must keep breathing

I don't have a choice for that

I have a choice over whether I do it consciously or not.

Be-nay-nay

Scribing 50 - Heart Chakra Open Pain

I'm feeling pain in my heart
The world is open
I speak freely and openly
The world speaks reams of backness

Out of the works comes all the prepared treats
Everybody designing something else in the group mind for your favor
Look, look, look
We dare not admit we create it
We just devise, define, and speak and these spells
These magickal rituals we do with our friends of critical talk and cynical blend
They define the world around us, they define us

How far we go into our own rabbit holes and never come back to surface
Why can't I just get along with people without a change
Intellectual predators
We see, we look, we embrace
You take that energy for a time
But then they don't take it back
Or they do

But one bite creates another
Out of the many bites comes injury
And this pain is felt so deep
When the disbelievers bite so hard
Not realising that everything that they do is a creation of what they think

We are in constant control of our reality
Nothing is moving without our awareness

But the scientific world of 'proven' reality seeks to eradicate any trace of this knowledge

I open my heart again and again
And in come the vipers
When will I stop torturing myself
Thinking I can change a person

I get attacked.
And I pay for it
Who am I helping
What for?

What will be achieved by me actually helping them?
Will it be independence or dependence?

When the mind is seen for what it is and how it works
All will be clear
Until then, we'll have protectors of the prison realms
Conditioned from birth as your neighbours

Unconditional love and empathy
Feel the pain and walk through the fire
What choice do we have
Asking for a responsible response to the reality we create everything with the mind
Is asking for a life changing decision at times

The water from the tap tastes like epsom salts.

It happened again
Don't bother with that which does not serve you
Move on

Scribing 49 - Economic Machinery

Blur the lines between community and society
Not to lock down community with money
But to draw out the life within and give it a safe place to be
The system of money is the insanity

One cannot see what one is in, while they are in it
We must get outside and do that thing to see outside of where we are
And by doing this, discover what can be different
Our hearts and lives are in our own hands

How often we shine and are not appreciated
How often our words fall on the defences of deaf ears
So we take down these walls
And we get everybody in

And together we make the change
Into and beyond and better than anything that has ever been before
Because fear is not needed
Money is not needed
Conditioning is not needed
People can be trusted
And by trusting, we show we can be trusted
The world is what we put in
People are what we put in

We get out what we put in
There is no end to our potential
We are the dawning of the new era
We are the future and the first and the last
We are all that is, and all that ever is

This is the new doctrine
Free yourself
Rise with the flames and open doors to infinite temptation

We are one

Scribing 48 - Biodiversity

If you want to create enemies.
Stand out.
If you want to make no friends
Don't

Where is the compromise
Fuck compromise
Do what you want
Be what you can

Many people try to block the path
Envy can cause such great obstacles
But passion overrules envy
Most involved in their pursuit of power don't see that passion overrules power

When narcissism is seen as a disease
When the greater mass of people really see it
I suppose that's just what it is
We do what we can with what we have until we are dead

When you've done the offensive thing
You've soloed too much
The world will seem against you
But remember
There is nothing left but to keep on going
Don't put up your walls for the benefit of the vampires to keep you from gaining ground

Keep them down
Show them all that pain means nothing
That life is found in everything
We have no change in what we are but in how we behave

Stand still and know I am god
Everybody has their little piece of freedom tucked away within themselves
The rules are there to be broken
I'm not making any money off this
To assume that I am is, ha, a big joke.

I'm a big joke
And that's what's so funny about it.
We're all big jokes
We're all laughing mad

Yes, I did it for advertising
No I don't have an ego
You won't believe me right up until the very end
Because it will need blood to seal it true

Then all the house of cards will come tumbling down
The death of the man that stands tall is the saviour of the world

We get out of people what we put into them.
We get out of people what we put into them.

We all collectively create our reality
Everything is a closed circuit of cause and effect
We create with our emotions
We create with our fears

Did I sing too many political songs?
I'm terribly sorry
I'll sing less reality and more fluff for you in the future
You'll be dancing in no time
Because I know how to make people dance.

And you're a dancer.
The best of them all.

Scribing 47 - Blunt Knives

How to start to stop?
How to be real with what you have?
Every piece of the puzzle is there to be fit together
Every last emotional conduit sits ready to be joined in correctly

The sun rises from the gloom
The bright moon has been keeping guard all night
The cold air harasses the hands at they type
The door was left open last night
A crime?
No it was deliberate

When everyone else and the world is the blame
You are to blame
And who wants to face themselves
When the dragon has been fed to get so big

How many years have I been feeding this dragon?
Since I was 9
My first complete Saturnian cycle
And in this hidden world I fed a dragon
Something to be taken out on all in the future

And the life around me in my family
Fed the dragon
All was food for the dragon
The dragon incited more reasons to be fed
And the dragon got fed more

It's all one thing, I see it now
But how long it has been like this?
Twenty two years.

A self-defence mechanism

Twenty two years of dragon feeding
How big is a twenty two year old dragon?
Was it a baby since birth or was it an inter-dimensional traveler latching onto my need to feed something
Since nine

Nine and Twenty Two
Powerful numbers

An inter-dimensional traveler looking for fuel for his ship
Found through my essence a core to power on
And in this, I have acquired many interesting and unexplained talents
Because the share is almost as one being
The body is a portal and through this portal the world beyond can be seen

The physical is such a small place
The rest is so massive
Nothing can compare in our world to the enormity of the reality beyond the physical.

The physical universe is such a small part of the greater whole
And our physical lives are so insignificant in the grand scheme of things
If anything bigger takes interest in our affairs
It's more a case of delusion on our part, and the creation of it with our minds

Because the 'bigger-that-is-out-there' has no place here, no interest here, nothing can be harmed elsewhere if all goes to shit here
Everything here is a tiny expression of something so minimal
Some say we are a quarantined area
But this is also delusion

Delusions of self-importance

We are not important

And that's just it, we create our own universe, being such a speck in great grey sea
We create our own delusions, we physicalise them
We manifest everything we touch our minds to in time
All comes out in the eventuality of what is kept hidden
Nothing is secret

Time and physical and this dream world so to speak (another delusion but a convenient one to reference)
It's a nothing
We don't exist

We exist as much as we believe ourselves to exist
And if we were to disappear
Nothing would change

Significant
Individual
Unique
Powerful

Delusions.

To understand real reality outside of what is physical
Simply divulge self

Scribing 46 - Shift

Yes, the world is changing
No, running around with your head cut off won't do
Yes you are still alive
No, death isn't something to be feared

Dogs, neighbours, barking and politics
Why do people get dogs?
Love, company, for the children,
Protection, be like the Jones', as a motivation to do more exercise
To be more in touch with the animal kingdom

What is changing in this world?
People, people people
The minds are changing
The perception is changing
Fear as a system of control has been hyper-activated
Now the repercussions

The sun still rises
The clouds pass over slowly
The trees are green
Coffee is bitter

I've almost done all my jobs for this sitting
I've learned something rather basic
Nothing gets done while sitting around doing fuck all thinking about what needs to be done
And regardless of the mountain of work, it's all possible and it can all be done
One piece at a time

Here comes the sun
Isn't it beautiful
Piercing my eye

Cleaning windows is equal to keeping opportunities open
I like that one, it's certainly good motivation to keep windows clean
I've always had trouble with keeping them clean, up until now

Keep the world open and at your doorstep at all times
And the world it says, come on right in.

And then random long hairs grow in your eyebrows
And this makes sense how.

The night is dark and full of terrors
But the day, the day is coming and filled with love

Scribing 45 - Criss-crossing metal parts in a mechanism of life

The sounds of the cars, trucks and buses
Reverberate into the amphitheatre of a small cafe
At times I have visualised waves in the ocean coming and going
A gentle sea breeze fills the air and the sun pervades the shadowless atmosphere

I've got my bag of money
My little geetar and my hipster chai latte
Was it made with almond milk? Is it genuinely hipster?
Or is it just hipster-esque

This is a question that plagues my mind constantly

The excitement of a day fills my heart
Suddenly everything is positive and full of flavour
Like the stars have suddenly arranged themselves in a way,
favourable to my particular besodden frequency

We can all be happy together I tell them
Community can work
We just need to trust and let go
And share everything

Like we do now but with less reluctance, or insecurity
Ha, we australians have so much and share so little
Hard times are coming for all not just one or two
When they hit these shores the pain will be felt worst where those that have little have no conditionings for sharing

Sharing, sharing, sharing
So many live in each other's pockets
In poorer countries, in countries where there are shared afflictions like cold cold winters
In countries where depressions have been experienced a level of community still exists in the subconscious

A knowing, a loving, a 'we can work it out together' because 'we're in it together' and 'exile and threat of death' just is not practical for the procurement of a happy loving community where we are all happy

I know it sounds like soppy bullshit
But it's true
It's real
And the idea that we have succumbed to 'the bad', 'the dark', that we are 'afflicted' that we are somehow 'individuals' and 'unique'
Are conditions we have placed on our behaviour because we have the luxury to do so
in a well oiled money run society that we have not had to scrape away at the bottom of the barrel for our living

So, yes, it is my opinion and prediction, for a large part, Australians will have it hard later on
There will be accountability for our inabiility to share our abundance

And if the government is making decisions for us on our behalf that we have no control over
An elitist group of politicians sucking off the life energy force of the people
Then we need to make this democracy, not just a namesake but a reality
As the people, we move as one and defeat ignorance first

Then move forward and create a framework for people living on the same land that serves all the people living on it.

---

There are certainly times when life is meaningless
That the absurd is king

This is a defence mechanism by myself to protect against the insanity of society
I can't change everything
But I can change
What I can change

And if I do what I can do
Then as I go, others may do the same

I start splashing and in time the whole pond will be raging in waves

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.