A memory; and believing you can dream!

I remember a time when I was sixteen, and I was staring out over a beach watching fireworks explode over the top of a beautiful moonlit stretch of sandy shoreline with surf breaking gently in the foreground. It was new years eve, on the stroke of midnight, and my friend John Kennedy was there with me watching the big light extravaganza. He turned and punched me in that friendly hard way in the shoulder that boys do when they want to show some affection and said, “Happy new years, man! I hope your life is exciting as this fireworks”.

It was really a meaningful moment in my young-but-growing-up-fast life. I stood watching that fireworks display and I remember thinking that I did want to see exciting things in my lifetime. It’s really the first time that I can remember my imagination taking me beyond the neat little boundaries of my life at that moment in an intense way. When I dared to think of myself moving beyond the Gold Coast, away from my mother and sister and friends that I dearly loved, I felt such a fierce jubilation all my body turned to fire and ice, and the hairs all over my skin stood on end like I was plugged into a thousand volts of electricty! I still remember that feeling of being so massively infused with excitment because it is a feeling that recurs through my life at special times and places.

I had it the night I lost my virginity to a sweet English girl called Gail who I was very much in love with at the time; I had it again the night before I got on the plane in Bris-vegas that would take me to London; I had it in Nepal as I stood next to my friend Glen and looked upon the great majesty of the Himalayas in the perfect silence of nature; and I had it when I was tripping out of my head on wickedly strong acid while watching a solar eclipse in the middle of the african savana land with 300 other world traveller feral hippies!

These moments I am sure are not unique to myself. Sure the environment and setting will be different for every individual in the world, but that feeling of being filled with an intense energy that makes you wild with imagination, yet feeling crystal clear in your thinking, is something all people experience. It’s why we can all understand what it is to be passionate about something!

I find myself thinking though, why haven’t I felt this energy recently? It seems to me that all of the elements of my life are aligning perfectly, and yet I seem to just lack this passion that I have had in the past. I can understand why I haven’t felt like this in the last couple of years – they were very rough times – but now life is different. It’s as near to perfect as it could be, because really there is no such thing as a perfect life. Is it possible that perhaps we get too old and those reserves of emotional energy needed for such mental intensity simply isn’t there anymore? No I don’t really think so, though I do think that as we get older we don’t let ourselves get so carried away with dreams as what we do when we’re kids. As teenagers our lives are all dreams and no experience. You can see it in their eyes; so full of energy without any of the wisdom or scars that you earn later from the harsh treatment of reality. As we get older we learn as a self defense reflex that letting ourselves go too far with heady dreams only gets you dissapointed (and hurt) when it doesn’t turn out the way you want.

It’s tragic really to see a grown-up that has long lost that wonderful ability to dream themselves away with magical ideas and lofty hopes and goals. So many people are like that. They even forget what it is like to dream dreams and they put down others that do.

I don’t suppose there is an answer to this question, if you could call it that. Rather it is something that I think will just have to happen, as there can’t be any forcing it. The most important thing is believe in dreams and believe in the power that they can give you. And to not live your life in fear. It’s easy to say, but so many of us are paralysed by fear, I know I have been many times in the last few years. But I want to feel that burning fire of passion again, and that unbridled energy that comes with it, that gives you the power move mountains and acheive anything you can dream!

It is such a wonderful thing to experience!

Padwanna!

 

Closure!

It’s one of those words that seems to get thrown around on Oprah a lot. Seems everybody wants closure these days. When we get closure we can put the past behind us and move on.

Well I had “closure” on Saturday; my big project at work finally got released into the production environment and made available to the world at large! It was just after midday when they flipped the switch, and cracked open the champers to celebrate. One of the bosses brought a camera along for some PR shots, and I found myself standing shoulder to shoulder with people who only a week before had called me all sorts of vile names and thrown a heap of abuse at me. Truth be told I called some of them some pretty vile names and gave abuse as good as I got, so it wasn’t really one way. But as we all stood there drinking bubbly vinegar in cheap white plastic disposable cups, I felt happy. The day of release had come and we had acheived something together. And just like that, it was all over. There was nothing more to be done!

Now I have my life back my rehabilitation begins. In the last six weeks I worked out that I have done on average 14 hours a day, and had only 4 days off. I’ve gained 5.5 kilograms in weight because I’ve done no exercise in that time and I’ve been living off takeaways and delivery shit. My waistline has expanded from a 32 back to a 34, and now most of my jeans no longer fit. My usually flat stomach now has a definite pot belly shape to it. Mates tell me that it’s “hardly noticeable”, and “not that bad”, but I get called Chunky-boy now as new nickname. I used to be able to wear tight shirts and look good, now I look like a poster boy for a weight watchers diet bar wrapper.

Maybe all that sounds like some vain shit. And maybe to some extent it is. But I come from a long line of men that all had very serious health problems linked to obesity. At 1kg/week, it doesn’t take long to get seriously fat!

I’ve also lost contact with nearly all my friends. I’ve not done any meaningful work on my creative projects I have planned out. I’ve been tired all the time, and subject to some wild mood swings. The stress has had me up at night worrying to such an extent that I haven’t been able to sleep properly. Really it hasn’t been pretty at all. If this had gone on any longer it would only have resulted in me turning myself into a wreck. Thank god I don’t have a relationship because that would be suffering right now as well!

Which makes me wonder why people become workaholics! I just don’t understand why anyone would run their life into the ground for the sake of the job itself. So many people I know work in jobs where they do the same thing year in year out that I have only had to do for six weeks. I guess that explains why they all look much older than they are, and why they are wound up tighter than a snare drum.

It seems a by-product of our modern society that so many people work long hours for demanding bosses so they can turn around and say to themselves, and others, “I have a career, and earn good money”. Is it worth it? Not for me. I’d rather have my life! I’ve seen what slavish devotion to a job gets you – absolutely fucking nothing!

So tomorrow its back to gym and back on the phone to get out and do some socialising. I wonder if anyone will remember me?!

Padwanna!

 

Women

I walked out the front door this morning and turned my head to look at a woman crossing the road. She was very attractive, wearing tight blue jeans tucked into black leather boots that came all the way up to just below her knees. I couldn’t take my eyes off her gorgeous body and so didn’t see the phone box in front of me until I walked straight into it. Or not so much in to it, but into the plexiglass door which made a loud banging noise as it stopped me dead in my tracks. Some people in the bus stop saw me headbutt the phone and one guy started laughing so much he tripped on the sidewalk gutter and fell onto the road. The girl I was looking at saw the man trip and she started laughing, and then a few steps later she tripped herself! It was all really fucking odd, but I guess, what goes around comes around!

I was late for work again, or I suppose I arrived at work at my usual time of a quarter past ten, and one of the nice girls at work was at the front reception.
“Good morning, you”, she said with a smile! Our eyes held together for a fraction of a second longer than normal. A look and a feeling passed between us, and I wondered what it meant. Her hair was done differently and her lips had on a very pale red lipstick that made her look quite beautiful. It was probably nothing. Most likely nothing.
“Good morning to you too”, was all I could think to say! I couldn’t think of anything witty to impress her with. For some reason, when I am near her, I get lost for words.

A few hours later I was sitting at my desk facing the window which stares out to an adjacent office block about 40 odd meters away. A red haired woman in her early 40’s came to the window in front of mine and opened it up, leaned out and lit up a cigarette. I lay back and waved and smiled a big charming smile all for her. She waved back at me, took a drag on her fag and then lifted up her free hand and started fluffing her hair. We stared at each for a few minutes, me sitting still in my chair, and her standing at the window smoking. It was strangely erotic and I could feel the heat building in my chest as my heart beat faster as we explored each other with our eyes.
“What are you looking at”, came a voice just behind me?
“Nothing… why”! It was one of the tech guys who works in the department next to mine. I was silently pissed off that he had to come over now of all times, wanting conversation. Reluctantly I swiveled my chair around and faced him. “What’s the problem”?
“So do you have kangaroos where your mother lives”?
“Huh… what? Listen I’m kinda busy, do you need help with anything on the network, cause if not I have to get back to it”! The tone in my voice was sharper than I intended it to be. I was going to say sorry but before I could he said, “okay”, and turned and left. I spun around quickly keenly hoping to continue our little game but she was gone. The window was closed and the room was empty. It was like she was never there.

Later on I saw that tech guy getting a coffee, so I went over to the nescafe machine and made one for myself. I didn’t want it, but I did want to say something to him because I felt a bit bad the way I shut him down before.
“Yeah my mum has loads of kangaroos around her place on the Gold Coast”! It was a total fucking lie, but why spoil a stereotype. It doesn’t hurt anyone to believe this. After all my government spends good advertising money making Europeans believe this in the first place, so who am I to start spreading the truth!
His eyes light up, I figure out of me taking an interest in him for a bit, and for confirming something he has probably been thinking about that day. “I knew it you know. I was watching this show the other night on kangaroos and I was sure they would be near your village where you grew up”.
“Yeah, we don’t them villages, but…”.
“That girl you were looking at, she has a boyfriend”.
“What girl are you talking about”. I was trying to play cool but I didn’t think it was working.
“The one that was making your face red when I came over before”.
Jezuz, was it that fucking obvious, I thought to myself. That’s really desperate.
“You seem like a desperate guy right now, you should get a girlfriend. I think you need to have more sex”.
“I… look desperate… do I really look fucking desperate”? My voice was all exasperated and hot sounding in my own ears. I just hope I didn’t say that too loud.
“Sure you do! But you can get laid all the time right?! You’re Australian. Dutch girls all want to fuck Australians”.
Right there was another myth that somehow seemed to have made its way into the local urban folklore. I don’t know who made this one up – was it the Aussie government – but it was so far off the mark it may as well have been shot in the other direction. Was there any point trying to debunk it? Not really! I said see ya later and went back to my workstation.

On the metro home I stood opposite a women in her late twenties that was at least a half part asian. She reminded me of someone I used to go out with a long time ago. Her perfume smelled a day old, but still very exotic. Made more so by her asian features. Her eyes were hypnotic and try as I might I couldn’t help but look from time to time. She didn’t look at me though. I started to figure it might be true; that maybe I was desperate. Chicks can smell desperation a mile away. Is that the reason I can’t meet women? I doubt it, but as an excuse, it will do me for now!

Padwanna!

 

Happy Scrappy

Finally I saw a light at the end of the tunnel at work today. I think my project is going to go live on saturday. The upshot being, I can have my life back! I’ll have to work this weekend again, the third one in a row, but then it will be over. Finito! The way I see it right now, this thing finishing will be like getting out of an abusive relationship with a partner who only gives a shit about themself, but you always end up coming back too!

All things considered though, I actually feel pretty happy. I’ve got this real happy vibe thing happening. It’s hard to explain but it’s like, I don’t feel fucked off anymore. I did for so long. It’s amazing how long someone can carry anger around with them. I’ve seen what it does to if you stay angry for too long; it eats you up inside, turns your heart to stone, and turns everyone in the world against you. It’s too easy to be angry. It’s hard to let go of those things that made you that way.

Maybe a lot of it has to do with not feeling so alone anymore. And also because I had a good hair day today! It was one of those days where I could flick my hair around like a real fashion model and it would sit just right. Isn’t it amazing how good hair days can make you feel happy.

I often wonder though about the cycle of such things. We can’t be happy all the time, just like we can’t be angry or pissed off all the time. But we all know people who always seem to be happy, or pissed off. And we seem to go through periods were we are more happy than angry, and other periods where we are more angry than happy. I went through a two year period where I was really angry every single day. I hated everything from the moment I woke up, till the moment I went to bed. I even got to a point where I thought I would never be able to feel happy again. I felt so empty and hollow and worthless that I couldn’t even face walking outside in the sunlight. I had about 20 grams of speed in the house at the time and I thought about eating it all then and there and ending the pain. I didn’t because I honestly could not leave my mother behind like that. It would have destroyed her. But the experience gave me an understanding of what must go through the mind of someone who does desire and facilitates their own mortal end.

That seems so long ago. Another lifetime almost. Things are very different for me now. I sit here in my gezillig art deco apartment, surrounded by the quaint and kitch material possessions that I’ve accumulated like a human bower bird. And I think, there is nothing really wrong in my life anymore.

Just as a bit of a distraction, my place has a striking resemblance to mums back home on the Gold Coast in the vibes it gives off; very homey and laid back. I suppose the reason for that is because we carry home around with us in our hearts and whenever we settle somewhere we make that place in hommage to those deep feelings of comfort.

So anyway, sure there are small things I would change, and even bigger things than the small things, but overall, I wouldn’t radically change anything. It’s all worked out fine. Is this just another cycle though? Is there another time coming in two years where I will be really fucked off with everything again, and my heart will become stone, and I will view the world with suspicious eyes?

Everything moves in circles, but does that mean we travel ones from the past in the future? Where does the circle start and end; with happiness or sadness? A high point or low point in life? Or is life just this totally fluid thing where we simply pass through these states of being as we inexoriably follow a meandaring course through the landscape of time?

What do I think? Well, I think life tests you. It makes certain periods difficult because it wants to see if you are serious about doing something; it wants to see how committed you are to a course of action. After all, if something is easy, there isn’t any personal gain in acheiving it. So I don’t think my past will repeat itself, because I’ve earned my right to live this life I have now.

Which reminds me of a saying that an old bedouin man told me when I was in the Egyptian sinai penninsula some years back. He said, “The paradise of the oasis can only be found by burning oneself on the sand of the desert”. Today, I believe I know what he meant as he held my hand and told me that.

Padwanna!

 

Is this a cool name?

Upon looking at the last lot of entries, I feel heartened to see that my writing technique is vastly improved from the very first entries. Which in turn are vastly improved on the first draft of the first chapter of a short novel I started two and half years ago. I think perhaps it’s because I don’t feel so nervous now about expressing myself. Telling stories to you, my small group of critics, has taken away that shyness to open up and talk of difficult things. I once heard that great writing comes from sharing the most intimate details of your life with the person you would least want to have read them! Now that I think about it, it was that floppy haired blonde git off Dawson’s Creek (Dawson the dick) when he was having one of his famous whinges to Katie Holmes (the hottie that she was!) Yeah well it sounded like a crock of shit then, and it doesn’t sound much better now! But I was hoping on looking oh-so arty with some deep writers wisdom.

Anyway a gesture of thanks for your persistance, when – I won’t say if – this first short novel of mine is published I will send all you regulars signed copies! With a bit of luck you’ll have it for christmas 2010!

I am trying to find a pseudonym to publish under though. I don’t want to use my real name for no other reason than I don’t want the people who I work with at the time to know it was me who penned it. That is if ever someone by some farcical luck actually even buys a copy. More than likely I’ll get fired if it’s a manager!

I was thinking of the name, Jethro Jack!

What do you think? Cool or no? Go on, tell me, I can take it!

Padwanna!

 

The rage and the calm

It’s been another weekend of work… mostly. But even mostly is starting to be too much. I’m at the point where I can’t even remember when I last had a day off it’s been so long. People are starting to hate each, and the vibe is getting ugly. Something is going to blow soon at that place, and I fear I’m going to be somewhere near the epicenter when it does.

My love affair with music is deepening. About a week ago I found a new place to make downloads from legally, and so I’ve been pulling stuff off the progressive house list fairly constantly. Here one of my favourite mixes right now, if you want to have a listen to it. The tune that starts at 27:40 (min/secs) is truly beautiful!

I find it somewhat strange though that this music obsession is happening now at this stage of my life. I hate sounding like a cliche, but I would have figured that this thing for music would have happened when I was younger. Isn’t middle-aged-ness supposed to be kicking in about now?! I see it in others around me! God though, I’ve always had this morbid fear of becoming middle aged and ending up in the suburbs somewhere; tired, boring, pointless and out of the way. I can’t believe that is what so many people actual desire out of life; it’s really the mainstream dream! Get a job, get married, buy a house with a white picket fence and stick 2.4 cars in the garages to carry around your 2.4 kids. Take 4 weeks holiday a year and don’t try anything too risky. Buy Levi jeans, and watch mainstream news! Don’t think about stuff too much, otherwise you might form an opinion that goes against the crowd. Whatever you do, don’t do drugs… don’t ever do drugs! Drug users are killers and killers are drug users. That’s what the serious man for the government says in his police uniform about why armed robbery is going up every year. That’s inbetween the advertisements for more beer, more advil, more cold and flu syrup, more skin cream, more pimple cream, more McDonalds, more debt, brighter whites, brighter teeth, and more fat free 100% sugar shit for kids! Because fat free is good! Eat more fat free people, it’s so good for you you can suck it up like air! More is better! How could so many smiling models be wrong!?

Jezuz fuck, where is the life in any of that!? Why don’t people want more than that? Or maybe they do and I just don’t see it, because I’m just as predjudiced as the next person and I only see what I want to see, just like everybody else. After all, I live here too!

It’s the fear of waking up one day in the burbs though that keeps me going; that motivates me to undertake radical actions to ensure I don’t sink down to a level of mediocrity where the masses float and dreams drown in the watery substance of reality. I can feel that fear sitting like a prickle on the edge of mind, always present, always warning me that I must do more, or it will grow and cause pain until I do something shocking and unexpected.

Contentment – it’s a word I only know conceptually. I’ve never… experienced it. I know that it must be real because friends of mine have told me that they are content with their lives. That they are happy and want for no more. I’ve never known that. I’ve never known what it is to be content. No matter what I do, it’s never enough! Something keeps pushing inside of me, pushing and pushing and making me go further, driving me forward even when there isn’t a forward in front of me I can see. Then the wheels simply spin and burn until something happens, often self destructive! Perhaps it’s my fathers desire for me to be more than I was in his eyes that has taken root in my consciousness. I was never good enough for him, and so, perhaps I am not good enough for myself.

And yet, right now, when I feel my mind beginning to be overwhelmed by a torrent of thoughts so strong and angry; when I feel my own anger rising within me like a swirling raging tide, the soft sweet melodies of a beautiful tune I am listening to gathers around me like a cool blanket, bringing calm. It’s like someone blowing a mist of water gently and steadily onto a fire threatening to engulf everything around it; slowly it’s energy is brought under control, without hurry, and without harm. Peace of balance is restored.

Once more I find myself thinking of the old man who was walking his dog, and that calm look perserverance and acceptance he had in his eye. I wonder if he was ever someone such as me?

I wonder what he is doing right now?

Padwanna.

 

The Aussie writers new book; and a Vespa!

This Aussie travel guy, Peter Moore, has got a new book out called “Vroom With a View”, which I just have to buy as soon as I can. This guy writes hilariously gritty travel dramas that has me completely envious of him. He always has photos on his website to accompany his books, and here are the ones for Vroom. Well actually you go there and then click the link of the bottom left that says slide show. Just the pictures and comments alone had me laughing.

Which got me to thinking. When I turn 40, I too am going to get me a Vespa and take a summer trip around Italy! I figure it’s good incentive to go out and write something decent in order to fund something hugely fun as this.

It’s always nice to have something to look forward to!

Padwanna

 

I think it is time.

I woke up today and it was pissing down rain. It was one of those hard heavy rains that you hear before you come awake; you’re aware of this rhythmic drumming on the windows which you instinctively know is heavy rain. I like it though! I like the rain. There is something pure about rain that feels good when you watch it from the windows of a warm room. It’s like, it doesn’t matter what has come before the rain, or how dirty the streets are, rain washes it all clean. Rain, forgives us our sins! I always like to think that those first rays of sunshine after heavy rain, are like a blessing. That’s why it feels so good when you can turn your face towards the light and catch warm rays on your cheek!

I passed an old man today in my mind. I saw him on the streets a few days ago walking a dog and his craggy countenance stuck in my memory. He looked to be a 103, but I am sure he wasn’t that old. He walked too straight in the back for that. He wore a face that looked like it was made of brown paper mache that was still wet and limp. His eyes though were deep pools of expression, the type you can only see in old people who have paid witness to many things over a long life. They weren’t clear, but very rheumy, giving me the impression he had experienced a lot of sadness in his time on this earth. But there was also a strength in those eyes, a resolve that he would endure, no matter what would come in the days remaining. He smelled of stale cigarettes as I was beside him, as we passed each other. It was this smell that reminded me of my grandfather Blackbourn and being back in his house in Granville on school holidays. The old man nodded to me as I passed, and I nodded back. There was a serenity in his look, like he had made his peace with the world, and was content with walking his dog. I would have liked to have known his name.

I had a nightmare last night that frightened me deeply. I dreamt there was a presence in my room and it did not like me. I could feel the waves of hate eminating from its formless body from somewhere in the darkness of the room just outside of my vision. It spoke to me, but I didn’t understand what it was trying to say. I only know that it’s voice was terrifying and I violently woke myself up to escape its grasp. I was covered in sweat and yet chilled to the bone. I wonder if there was anything there?

I wrote to my friend this afternoon. A really long email like I haven’t sent to her in a long time. I used to write a lot more to this woman, but that was a long time ago. I used to hold her face in my hands as we lay naked together making love, and tell her how beautiful she was. That was a long time ago too. Now it seems time has built a corridor between us, and the memories of our experiences are postcards and photographs stuck on the walls like so much graffitti. I still remember the feel of her skin, and what she smells like though.

I think tomorrow I will begin writing my book. My friend has a new girlfriend, which means I have new time. Something tells me it is a good time to begin. I don’t know how to explain it, or even if it is worth trying. I simply believe that all my experiences have lead me to this point, and now it is time.

Yes, I think it is time!

Padwanna!

 

Deranged ramblings of the sleep deprived!

I’m looking out my window, into the darkness of the night feeling rather comforted. I’m playing Smoking Prophet by Thierry Princiotta on winamp; a really nice housey lounge collection, which is giving the world outside a happy feel to it.

Today was the last day of a five day work stint where I’ve devoted no less than 18 hour a day to a project building the next generation flagship product for the company that currently employs me. Been living off 3 – 4 hours sleep a night for that time. I’m physically spent! I have nothing left inside me to give. My head is a mess; my sleeping patterns are shot to hell; and I’ve aged a couple of years in the mirror. The only other time I look like this is late sunday afternoon after a weekend with the mates in London when the hangover and class A comedown hit me all at once!

Jezuz… what was it all for? Nobody said thanks apart from my immediate boss who is also my friend. But the CEO knew how much effort we put in, and he didn’t say anything to show any appreciation. I get the feeling nobody gives a shit what we had to do to get the project done, as long as it got done.

Ahh well, this is really just another job in a long line of jobs that don’t really mean anything to me. It makes me wonder how people have careers. I mean a career is something for people who really like what they do and want to do it their whole life. What do the rest of us have? I’m not doing my job because I love it, I’m just doing it cause I have to pay bills at the end of the month like everyone else, and it pays well. Does that make me a whore?

I work so hard for someone else, yet I never seem to give the same effort to my own projects.

Talk, talk, talk! That’s what I’m best at! The action part has always been more elusive. But what if I’m no good! What if I don’t have any talent! A lot of times I think it might be better to do nothing and live in the knowledge that I may have untapped potential, rather than do something and be proven to be fucking useless!

Did Hunter ever have these problems? Maybe thats what all the drugs were for.

Sleep.

I need sleep.

Sleep deprivation makes the world a more jaded place; more sharp around the edges; twisted in places. People seem more twisted. And yet funny! Today I started laughing uncontrollably when someone told me a joke that was completely unfunny. The whole irony of his unfunny joke sent me into a fit of laughter that had tears in my eyes. He thought I was making fun of him and left pretty quickly. I wasn’t though, it was just… I’m not myself right now.

Sleep deprivation can make you hallucinate too. I’m kind of used to it though. I used to stay up for 3 or 4 days at a time a few years back when I was unemployed and had a serious speed habit. I used to like the hallucinations, but at the end of eight months, I think I was borderline schizoid; I used to hear to voices all the time when I was trying to sleep. I’m glad it all passed when I straightened out.

Too much stress, too much sin! It can’t be good for you! Got to make it to 50.

Got to sleep!

Padwanna!

 

Electro-reflection

I’m in a funny mood tonight. It’s twenty minutes or so before midnight. I didn’t walk in the front door until a few minutes before 10pm. When I came in I threw some unopened mail from my ISP onto the kitchen table, it’s probably a reminder that I am 2 months overdue on the account. I was feeling dog tired so I lay down on the couch and turned on the TV, there was a show on the BBC about dark matter narrated by Ian Holmes, the guy who played Bilbo in PJ’s Lord of Rings Trilogy. It was pretty fucking interesting but I ended up falling asleep for half of it and missed the part about how it’s going to change all our lives for the better. Feeling very unsatisfied with what followed it – some shit about animals in hospital – I got up and came over to my computer.

I tuned winamp to the ETN.FM progressive house channel as soon as I sat down. I find I have to listen to music these days. Not need to, have to! ETN.FM is the one station that I have found that plays the music I just love! It’s like they just know what I want most to listen to, and they play it for me. There was such an excellent set playing by Artic Quest that I felt like racking up a couple of lines to get more into the mood of it, but I didn’t! For a little while I just browsed around a couple of music sites downloading some new stuff from different sessions, and a couple of freeloads from a favourite DJ of mine, Kenneth Thomas. All the while listening to the sweet tunes coming out my speakers.

I keep having these feelings like I am so close to knowing how to make everything in life work. The trancey sounds really sharpen my thoughts and feelings, and I find it so much easier to think when I am listening to music. I can’t do any real thinking these days without listening to music. Maybe it’s because our emotions are so much a part of the thinking process that if our heart is seperated from our mind, what you end up with is something hollow; abstracted from ourselves.

I can feel myself slipping deeper into a process of analysis of the world and there are these fleeting moments where the answers to all my questions just flit into range of my fingertips and then flit away. It all so nearly makes sense… but then I just can’t hold on to it. There has to be a convergence of all these things soon. I feel I am so close… so close.

Then a memory comes to my mind as the tempo picks up with a hard house track. I’m doing a tarot card spread with 13 in number. It depicts my life; past, present and future. My then girlfriend Mariska begins to read the little description sheet she has for the cards, but as I look and concentrate on them my head is flooded with images. Like a movie, but with feelings and really strong emotions. I begin to cry at one point as I see a pattern in the cards, in my life, in my lives before and and after, and where it all leads. The last card – the card of my destiny – is the King of Pentacles in a positive aspect; mastery of the physical world. It is success, power, financial abundance, happiness. As I looked at that card I experienced the same feeling of seeing the world and nearly understanding what it was all about, but not quite.

Is it possible that we already know the answers to all our big questions, but we just don’t realise that we do? Buddhist meditation masters tell of how in very deep states of meditation they can access all the knowledge of the universe. I often wonder what this means; what it must feel like to know EVERYTHING!

My life, the pendulum, has swung to its furtherest arc on the side of unchecked indulgence. I can feel different mental energies shifting to bring about a physical focus. These will manifest themselves in a behaviour change. I can recognise this shift now as something that is normal and natural in my life, and instead of fighting it, I can flow with it. It will be something new for me to not fight myself when change happens.

The one constant I have right now is good tunes and the vibes they create inside me.

Mind, body, and soul!

Padwanna!