Andrew Weatherall has immediately become one of my favourite DJs

Andrew Weatherall has immediately become one of my favourite DJs! I really appreciate a person who can traverse musical terrains so diverse, making the journey feel as though it's happening by train.

I love a DJ who is less of a performer or spectacle and more like a ship's captain. Able to use his skill to take both ship and crew through the unpredictable waters safely and then arrive at the destination he thought it best for us all to disembark at. We look around ourselves to check if everyone made it through. That no one is missing. We're all here! Feeling much wiser for it too.

The Future That You Wish To See Cannot Be Intended

The future that you wish to see cannot be intended. The future you wish for your children to grow up in cannot be planned or mapped out and all the dynamics of its possible interactions easily accounted for.

Just think. What is the one thing we are all doing (or not doing) every day, that is feeding this collective cancer that continues to metastatise and swell in plain view of us all? Unabated and unchallenged.

It's a decision you've made and keep opting for even though it's never worked. It's something you say no to.

For you if it feels like you're supposed to be receiving something like this right now

I have to admit, right now,  is the best time in my life for me in all areas (apart from the wonga zone😂), but it's all come about very suddenly through going it alone and being prepared to give up everything my possessive sense of self felt it needed to have in order to obtain the contentment it longed for. 

So I obey myself a lot more these days. I work with my unconscious urges and impulses and never automatically override them or submit without first engaging in dialogue. Always striving to work in harmony with my self. In sympathy. In synchrony. 

Anyway... My point is that when I get back from work I'll send you over something I recorded when I was at an extremely low ebb. Not the lowest I've ever been, but not far off at all because I was carrying around with me a strong sense that time was running out for me, and that I was destined to remain trapped within the endless cycles my vices and bad habits I desperately needed to break free from.

I just wanted to tell you that I also have felt like I would never achieve what I always knew deep down was the one true destiny for me. Ive found that things coming to fruition is always just a matter of time, and it does take time to configure oneself into what is needed, especially when the external pressures we are battling are so great.

 But you see, that's why I think you have the brightest future going forward, because you're still here, striving to be the you you know you can be, despite the constant shit you have no choice but to deal with. 

I'm telling you. You've come out of the forge and have been hammering and tempering your form slowly, but gradually, into the shape you will eventually need, so it's only a matter of time. Just don't lose hope and everything will be ok.

Going Beyond Resonance To Reveal Your True Colours

If everything is in everything then how do we extract it from itself?

By making it jump out of its skin through strengthening its core frequencies. By making its heart resonate, to then activate. By going beyond the loved-up glow of resonance until the structure that contains you, cannot.

And then the opera singer's voice makes the wine glass shatter.

By turning up the volume several orders higher than the level at which you were being peacefully contained within the scene of apparent calm - to reveal your true colours. 

By energizing to the point where you burst through the boundaries and borders defining where you were supposed to reside and remain, but now are staking your claim on the present in a bid to secure our future.

What She Needed To Hear

I understand what you're saying. And thanks for saying it too. I appreciate frankness when it's needed. All I'm saying is that you don't have to apologise to me for having lost your flow temporarily. It's not your fault and you shouldn't feel obliged to always be able to respond as you'd like. I won't be hurt if you don't reply when I send you stuff.

I guarantee you, your flow will return after the right amount of time has past. It is literally inconceivable for you to remain feeling how you are now, forever.  No one has ever endured such a static fate. So it's a matter of time, a matter of things that must be worked through slowly. Unhurried. Unrushed. X

Fleeting Rage In A Taxi For A Young Couple That Would Patio The Amazon Rainforest If It Were Theirs

A young couple have moved into a lovely house on the posh part of the Wirral. It was previously owned by an elderly woman who'd been there for ages and had cultivated a diversely rich and ornate front garden. I'm in a taxi just on the way to work and could see the young man folding his arms stood next to builders, overseeing the removal of the lovingly sculptered artwork nature had produced, having being erased from memory and now being replaced with the shortest period driveway I've ever seen. My gut response was to stop my taxi and kick the man up his arse. Give him a free short haul flight. 

Mystery

I read a couple lines of what you just sent while getting my feet massaged sipping coffee, and opened my account immediately assuming your block of text was about me again.

 It is about me if I feel it is about me anyway, at least to a certain extent it is. But that's not really the point in these kinds of matters. The moment after my ego inspired morning pondering, I concluded that it is much better to be in the business of imbibing mysteries, each one more obscure or esoteric or magical than its predecessor, than to be an acclaimed fisher of mysteries, one of global renown, whose sense of pride and self-worth is replenished by the seas and showers of rapturous  acclaim and amazement caused by the paucity of intrigue left behind as tools of surgical semantics perform autopsies yielding answers that are sterile - that can bear no questions of their own. 

I'd rather be in the game of making audiences gasp in petrified awe by swallowing poisons unknown like soft drinks, than sustain my physical existence taxonomising magic. Continuing to remain always a starter, and never a finisher. Never a source of conclusions without at least one road branching off ahead. Never the final word. Never the authority  which imbibes its own deceit. Which is a poison it hopes will cause its pores to sweat mystique, but only lead to the corroding of the heart's spirit.

Right, I wasn't supposed to write this much! I'll go for a walk to inhale some nice forest air now and read the rest of what your wrote there.