Jan 172018

Eyes closed, wide shut

Lashes lashed to interior spaces

Spaces rife within a rut

A hand full of aces.

Hold, Fold

A story so very old

A wager on the odds of losing everything

A match slowly sparking.



Closed as slits, opened to the inside. Eyes looking internally for sparks and misfires, signs of loss of circuitry, excess of voltage unchecked.

Jan 162018

Trying to avoid too much personal detail in these posts. It is difficult seeing where I am and have been for a good while. Suffering the consequence of a mixture of medical substances to help control too many issues with my bowels and my brains. On is perhaps equal to the other but needing different profilaxis all leading to seizure and discombobulations.

Sense of time altered, hours run into minutes and hours run into days, not in any particular order. It is omission and commission and often par for course on this weird GPS track. I am hoping to make a map of it all, with a starting point and an exit point where I leave this world of whirligigs and bobs and bits. Small pieces of puzzles without a reference.

New information gleaned during one of the tests, some strange swelling of the lymph nodes on the right side of my neck. There was a biopsy and nothing malignant was found. I will be fascinating to see where the course of treatment will lead me.

Between the ears, a textured and snowy surface. Vegetation struggling with the unfriendly season to find peace in dormancy.

Jan 102018

Another brief from the Articles and from the Health Sciences Centre. An odd name for a hospital to be honest, a place of care and healing as well as a place for experiments and alchemy. Lovely.

Sadness seems to be my trusted companion, with it happiness and anger and hunger divide their time on my desire and imagination. I would not return to this place by choice, but it is a journey well worth undertaking. One learns both to love humanity and despise it just as much.

Alliances are fickle things, like a spurned lover, or a drunkard husband they seek to destroy all that is respectable in order to fulfill an inordinate need to possess total control on desire. Theirs and others.

At least Jacques Lacan thought that, he wrote of the Other with a capital “o” to name the object of desire, to make it an entity as real as the table you are sitting at. We succumb to our desire for the Other, we are crewel to the Other, we try hard to destroy the Other. We call it desire, but it is murder.


Helipad Hi-jinx

Spotted helipad in the great north, layered and juxtaposed with flesh and body. Again.

Jan 092018

Still cannot describe the feelings I have; about me, about the universe. I am pretty sure that time is a human invention and that it does not really exist outside our minds; the universe does not happen in time. At least time has no direction, one of our biggest mistakes.

I am healing, it is slow and painful; there are more set-backs than progresses. No one seems to understand what it is to have an illness that settles in the mind and makes that mind confuse its circuitry wholly. It is not necessarily a bad experience but it is the total lack of respect for the apparently normal brains that makes things so much worst, that make us feel that much more like exceptions.

Our society requires conformity, if only to understand time as a universal constant, but that also becomes ideology, demagoguery and murder since those responsible are those controlling our societies. W.S. Burroughs has it right in “Cities of the Red Night” and “Place of Dead Roads” where a pirates society called the Articles celebrates individual rights and freedoms and allows members to settle their differences in any manner they choose, some ways incur great penalties and others ensure the survival of the colony. Every one is responsible for every one else.


Acid Test

Once one is many and time is no more – expansion into dimensions is common place.