the rain brings serenity, the cold turn offers a moments peace, the sunlight kisses the skin, the wind caresses the mind and for a moment all is zen then the birds appear over protective, their song sends out an alarm, even the bugs are uncertain, dogs pace and cats dart for cover, something shifts in the air, a new danger. i attempt a journey but end up staying home, i attempt a letter and end up sending a monologue, i attempt to move forwards but take a step back. i attempt connection but disconnect, i attempt detachment but end up sticking, i attempt concentration but end wandering. nothing penetrates the throb of the day that has turned 180 degrees upon you. it's like the friend that you lost, it's like a bad investment, a road trip going bad.
but it don't, the sun comes out.

i stand by the beach yesterday at dusk, i'm with a friend and she's sitting down contemplating the life she has, a man walks towards us, he's a sikh and he wears a beautiful purple turban, it's so regal and lush it stands right out like a jewel. as he walks towards me i find myself standing and i find myself walking towards him and i find myself smiling and saying, 'good evening sir, it's a pleasure to see you again.'

he looks at me, smiling as well, it's all really quite strange and he smiles and says, 'it's a perfect day.'

lust anger greed materialism and ego dissolve to gods grace in truth equality freedom justice and karma.

"there is one supreme eternal reality; the truth, immanent in all things; creator of all things; immanent in creation. without fear and without hatred; not subject to time; beyond birth and death; self-revealing. known by the guru’s grace."

i know i have lived as a sikh before, perhaps i wore a purple turban like my new friend, maybe i killed the english with a jewelled dagger and rode upon a majestic black horse named, ajab.

later in the evening i speak on skye to my very good friend tez who also plays some mean guitar on 'snuff' he thinks i may a have phoenician heritage, something i will investigate.

we have a lovely discussion about my fathers obsession that he came from 'atlantis' and tez sends me some information that the greek philosophers wrote on atlantis. it is good for me to know there are people out there who understand this type of knowledge, i often feel isolated and i am aware how different i am seen by those around me, i guess i am weird, but i am in good company and that's very reassuring.


the night falls hard, i feet like the detective halfway through the novel, halfway through his case, head filled with all the information he needs, head empty with data and no idea as to how to find the pattern that solves the crime. maybe that's the crime. sleep brings a reoccurring dream, i tweak it, lucid yoga, i push it a little farther but the ending is always the same. i always wake up in my life.