We make the valleys ….

“Temporal creation, the small infinity that is the self made, self realised, self illusion. Stay away from pins.”

We make the valleys we flow into. The mounds and shallow depressions in the psychoscape that extends as we unconsciously frame and answer to it. We flow into the valleys and away from rising hills and mountains. As a sea of mercurial probability. We are nothing and yet we contain the home we must find.

We are the landscapes of ourselves. We create our world maps as we discover our world paths. We discover by standing and not standing. We stand and we do not stand. We are the storms we stand against and we are the winds that howl at our silences.

 

Did anyone realise?

The very unfortunate would have. Their days and moments locked to tedium as a neutrino detection tank. The storm came and coloured all from the moment forward. As loud as thunder.

“Did you feel that?” Laughter at the surprise.

“Only everything is renamed.” A quiet smile at justice.

The wind, bright mid day summer hills and speeding small clouds on the blue sky. Hot and motionless. The days the places.

I caught them in a picture frame so they could open the bottles one at a time and procrastinate. Somebody wanted some money somewhere. The sparkling shadows. That was the storm. Did anyone realise?

 

 

Desire ….

….. according to an old Chinese text of old Chinese wisdom ….. “there is no misfortune greater than having too many desires”.

 

Yesterday’s Easterly storm has passed. The warm winds and huge rains. The morning valley is still looking about itself in surprise. Dawning sun laughing quietly.

 

Too many desires today. Write a new short story, new realities to consume and condemn? Write the last section of NULTEM … I am so looking forward to reading what happens. Get more irons in the fire …. I think this last is not a desire as such. Coffee is also not a desire … it’s more than that.

Almost a year …

….. just under 11 months. The probability matrix as a bardo state is allowing weather predictions of greater refinement as expected. Or rather “not surprisingly”.

Precision as a direction is not quite what is needed now. There still needs to be a result between the edges. No, that is simply a need for a need. Ok, there now. Might write some stuff.

 

The End of Time

The barrier of the present. There they stream, tumbling, scratching, kicking. Machine stolen limbs. Screen swollen street faces. The mundane, the superficial, the slick, hip, chic … transparent to transparency.

Essential Equipment: Awareness and unawareness.

Step into that torrent. The flow conventions. Stand on the further shore. Too easy.

Take it all ….

…. for it is nothing.

And the remainder is the glimpse of the world, the universe of universes that my father saw from the edge of the edge. Why insist? The now hard-wired linearity. It will prevent the way to edge of the edge that my father stood at. Those long light and dark centuries of centuries yesterday.

The true light, the true dark. I return there and leave you to your error.

Threats ….

….. of breakfast.

In SciFi there are usually only sumptuous feasts or scarcely viable rations (the last that remain in fact … ahem … in fiction). Mostly, no one and no thing eats at all, unless it’s themselves or each other.

I like the universe feeding Crolpx. These guys plant the void with universe seedlings. They get fertiliser and bug spray from the hardware shop and leave the little spinning bits to grow big and strong. Then, after a few sqidzollian light centuries, they go grazing. Actually they get their Dpillxlsxs to do most of the planting, they’re not stupid.

Breakfast … yes.

G.O.P. Politics ….

……. I feel too ill to comment.

Just a day …

… another perfect one.

Slow, the mist down in the valley this morning. Bright summer here now, here on this hillside, here in rural nowhere as I like to call it.

Another coffee and it’s back to writing.

Stopping now on the current novel, number six NULTEM (product codes), and returning to ULTCON for second edit with a thought to posting it off. Returned to it the other day in order to get it to my daughter and it was a good returning. So, get it into shape. A weeks work I guess.

Sure hope this blogging lark develops away from studio job of the moment. It might not. I can see that I might reserve the real stuff for the books. No matter … just a blog.