Tag: writing

How Things Pan Out…

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

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I think it fair to say we never really know how things are going to pan out. Sometimes hindsight and retrospect enable us to re-frame our narratives concerning how we got here, wherever here might be.

I can say that my “future” at the turn of the century looked markedly different to how it turned out and actually is now. I doubt even the greatest “seer” could have pictured what happened and how we live our lives now. The divergence of imagined future and subsequent actuality was large.

Aside from what goes on in the dreams, it is more straightforward to suggest an on-going likely trajectory now than it was back then. For a start the number of variables in life are reduced as is the dramatis personae.

Of course there could be an influx of new and new people but given the circles we move in, the likelihood is low.

We will have provisional answers on the major events of 2026 in a few months. One of these question marks we have a good indication on already.

I have been toying with an idea and that is about leaving the wheel of rebirth. In the hagiographies this is often represented as quasi-miraculous perhaps to generate aspiration. Maybe it is a whole lot simpler than that. Perhaps all one needs is to have seen a lot, experienced a lot and to be essentially {in its core meaning} used up. If one is used up and has zero residual ambition there is no driver to take on another body, another slab of meat. One becomes quiescent and has not the impulse to energise another biological form. This idea is perhaps more logical that others. The urge to be reborn ceases and it is no more complicated than that. No desire – no rebirth. No want – no rebirth. No greed – no rebirth.  The list goes on.

Maybe it is a kind of boredom that allows one to escape the wheel. I have been there, seen that, done that and now at last, I have the t-shirt. I have learned along the way.

What hindsight may also suggest is the role others have had in our lives. How we perceive that role may differ from how they do. We may learn a little about for what purpose we called them forth into our lives. We may have missed the point entirely. Too often we berate and blame instead of considering. The way modern life is lived, lacks patience. In our haste we miss so very much.

Maybe that is it, no more drama…

Siddartha said, “stop being such a drama queen and like a cart follows an ox you will find satisfaction, serenity and peace. In time, after you have discarded your pink feather boa and ludicrous overreactions, you will be free.”

I have an inkling that many obsessed with complexity and intellectual masturbation fail to see the buddha-field of simplicity…

You never know what life has in store for you, nor how things will pan out.

All you every really have is now…

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Chapter VII: The Venerable (Arhat)

90 There is no suffering for him who has finished his journey, and abandoned grief, who has freed himself on all sides, and thrown off all fetters.

91 They depart with their thoughts well-collected, they are not happy in their abode; like swans who have left their lake, they leave their house and home.

92 Men who have no riches, who live on recognised food, who have perceived void and unconditioned freedom (Nirvana), their path is difficult to understand, like that of birds in the air.

93 He whose appetites are stilled, who is not absorbed in enjoyment, who has perceived void and unconditioned freedom (Nirvana), his path is difficult to understand, like that of birds in the air.

94 The gods even envy him whose senses, like horses well broken in by the driver, have been subdued, who is free from pride, and free from appetites.

95 Such a one who does his duty is tolerant like the earth, like Indra’s bolt; he is like a lake without mud; no new births are in store for him.

96 His thought is quiet, quiet are his word and deed, when he has obtained freedom by true knowledge, when he has thus become a quiet man.

97 The man who is free from credulity, but knows the uncreated, who has cut all ties, removed all temptations, renounced all desires, he is the greatest of men.

98 In a hamlet or in a forest, in the deep water or on the dry land, wherever venerable persons (Arhanta) dwell, that place is delightful.

99 Forests are delightful; where the world finds no delight, there the passionless will find delight, for they look not for pleasures.

Dhammapada (Max Muller)

Pitching a Novel?

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Last night we watched the last episode of “Stranger Things”. The last section was long and painfully drawn out filled with American saccharin and apple pie idealism. It was a bit “pass the sick bag”. We had to wait for the predictable ending for quite a while. It went out with a damp squib. No tenterhooks. Overall “Stranger Things” has been enjoyable, original and different.

Which led me to thinking, “could I do better?”

Anyway I am back to the notion of a novel. The theory being that my USP is that I once was a kosher scientist and I have a fairly deep understanding of the occult. I am no longer a practicing scientist in that I do not earn a living therefrom. There are not many like me.

That brings me back to the whole publishing minefield where many publishers require an agent. There are scam-self publishing houses or one can do Amazon-Kindle self-publishing. There are people who take advantage of the gullible who want to be published.

I know enough about how self-publishing works.

There is a catch 22.

Why write a book if it will be a complete ball ache to get published?

Is it possible to get an in principle interest from either an agent or a publisher before starting a book?

An advance seems impossible.

The big drawback in all this is getting enthusiasm for promotion. I am not sure I could be arsed.

My pitch to venture capital success rate remains very good. But I had to write a business plan for that, even if it did not get read until after the pitch. There was a manuscript of sorts with graphs, projections and shit like that.

I am pretty confident that I can come up with something original. Would it be too highbrow? Maybe. Perhaps there would not be enough intrigue, violence and shagging though. Mobile ‘phone use could be a little too sparse.

I am really not turned on by the idea of being a published author, in the book sense. I don’t want to be the story teller aiming at a world with three waterfalls…I don’t know what motivates others. There is a lot of “advice” on line about how to pitch, how to go ahead. Some of it seems very scam…

A novel would give me something to do. It is statistically unlikely to generate any revenue. The Kindle route is cost free but they hassle you for USA tax documentation. There is a lot of spam. The last dealings I had with prospective agents were unsatisfactory. I have had responses from small niche publishing houses and I did get one or two indications of at least an alleged willingness to read a manuscript. The responses were not rote bulk nor at the time AI bot generated. I still have these emails.

I have previously been interested in testing the limits of possibility…you never know where an idea can go, what it might evolve in to…

Hmnn…

Year Beginnings

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

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The very first sentence of the above has informed many things for me in this life. It has been a kind of a mantram for me. When I used to do team and personal development courses I found that detailed and impeccable attention to the start impacted outcome. When the balance was right things flowed well. On the occasions that someone messed with this preparation the course “went wrong”. A simple thing unbalanced at the start unleashed a chaos. People failed to appreciate this…The idea was to start “tight” and then allow things to unfold and expand. A natural flow, a natural mystic.

This year has started with a dream of an end, a death, my death. It has pointed at ancient Tibetan anthropology and legend. Of mild interest yes. Of real current world applicability to me, probably not. I do not move in circles where anything might be propagated. It is like a hint from an otherworld. It is very unlikely that Macron and the Dalai Lama have been discussing my future. Life on the compound will continue much as is. No biggie…

The surgeon was satisfied with his handiwork and I am due a follow up appointment with a different surgeon in March to discuss the cut and splice of my other leg. I have some ongoing physiotherapy. Aside from that currently the number density of medical appointments has fallen to a low. A bit of relative peace and quiet looks on the cards.

We have started the DIY tasks around the house and I have an exhortation to walk to help improve the use of my “new” bionic hip.

Maybe today I’ll try to use the sit on mower. This was prohibitively painful before the operation. If that works then we can save on the gardening fees…

The dreaming rate seems to have fallen from one every three days…to much a more sparse occurrence.

During the night I had a question:

“Is dreaming unidirectional? If I dream of someone do they dream of me?”

If you look on the internet you can find stoner questions. They ask things like:

“What do teeth taste like? Do everyone’s teeth taste differently?”

“If you have a Ph.D., does every meeting you go to become a doctor’s appointment?”

Far out man…

All that highfalutin stuff looks to be a simple curiosity to have a brief gander at and then move on…

Marcus Aurelius Quotes

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

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The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane.

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If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment.

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Everything we hear is an opinion, not a fact. Everything we see is a perspective, not the truth.

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You have power over your mind – not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.

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Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it, if you have to, with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present.

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Whenever you are about to find fault with someone, ask yourself the following question: What fault of mine most nearly resembles the one I am about to criticize?

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When another blames you or hates you, or people voice similar criticisms, go to their souls, penetrate inside and see what sort of people they are. You will realize that there is no need to be racked with anxiety that they should hold any particular opinion about you.

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How much more grievous are the consequences of anger than the causes of it.

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The first rule is to keep an untroubled spirit. The second is to look things in the face and know them for what they are.

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You are a little soul carrying about a corpse, as Epictetus used to say.

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Do every act of your life as though it were the very last act of your life.

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What we do now echoes in eternity.

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Perfection of character is this: to live each day as if it were your last, without frenzy, without apathy, without pretence.

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Nothing happens to anybody which he is not fitted by nature to bear.

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Random – Buffalo Shaman – P&L Dream 28-10-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is this morning’s dream had between 4 and 7:30. I am going to open a new dream theme “random” and apply it to dreams which seemingly have little to do with me although I may feature therein.

My anticipation is that the dreaming will fade going towards surgery. It will then lay relatively dormant. This anticipation could be wrong.

The dream opens in a large room, part of a town hall and near a registry office. Sat around the room on large “leather” bound sofas are a collection of jet black men. They are all very smartly if non-standardly dressed. They look a little like characters out of a 1930s movie by their vintage clothing choice. There is some jollity and mirth. They are all Nigerian and gathered for a Nigerian wedding. They are big blokes and I think that they would make a good pack of rugby forwards.

I am to marry an Irish woman Aishleen to one of them. She is in the next room waiting in a white wedding dress.

I look down to the inside of my right wrist. There is  a white, made of bone, emblem there. It is a skull of a buffalo with bead decorations on the horns. The emblem is mostly two dimensional and is attached to me, tattoo like as opposed to affixed. One of the Nigerians says that I am the Buffalo shaman and that I must practice the rite. I gather the men together holding hands in a circle. We sing and chant a little.

They notice in one corner of the room a brilliant white laboratory style mouse. I must sacrifice it. To do this I take a book from the bookshelf and use it to squash the mouse. They cheer me on to do this. I squash the mouse and it flattens then disappears. It is OK now for the marriage to go ahead.

The scene changes and I am walking around South London near a park. The road is on top of a slope behind some metal railings and the park is in the valley below. It is in Streatham. I follow the road and go into a club house of sorts there is a meeting. The local “council” are discussing closing public toilets as a cost saver. I say that this is stupid as the cost saving is tiny. The lead for the meeting says that the finances are dire. I asks him to show me. He comes back with a summary statement. I say that no, I want the entire profit and loss, P&L accounts to peruse. Give me all the detail. That is the best thing I can do for them to do a thorough look as an objective outsider. I say that I think they are losing the plot.

He comes back with a full accounts setting and a younger woman clerk. She is dark haired, ample and around 40. I recognise her. He says that she will help me. She asks me if I remember where I met her all those years ago. She says that it was a 4 AM in the morning walking along Turners Road when I was accustomed to doing my late night walks. She says that we went back to hers for some more drinks. For some reason non sexual we are close.

As I wake up I think “random”…

The dream ends.

Gorillas – Plane Concept – Davos –  Cairo – Freedom Dream 05-10-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is last night’s dream sequence mostly had before 5:15 AM. I almost did not want to go back to sleep in case there was more incoming to remember.

The dream starts with me crossing a wooden style over a fence into a green meadow come fallow field. The field slopes gently up to the left and gives way into a wooded copse. I have no shirt on my top. I start to run along the length of the field. I can feel the impact in my pelvis but cannot see my legs. I am unaware if I am clothed or not below the waist. I have not run for a very long time and am unaccustomed. I am enjoying it. The sun is out. The air is crisp. I am moving fairly well. I get to the style at the other end of the field about 400 metres away. I stop and turn back.

I start to run back. To my surprise both my legs seem to be working well. As I get near the corner of the field with the style I can see two groups of gorillas. Nearest me are three adolescent juveniles who are playing with each other. Nearer the style there is a huge silverback, his mate and two infant gorillas. I note that there are seven gorillas in total. I wonder if I will disturb them and cause the silverback to attack. As I get closer I decide not to try for the style but to head up the hill. I look to my chest and joke to myself that perhaps they will think me one of them. I start to head on a different trajectory uphill and without staring directly at the silverback. From time to time we catch eyes. He is content and chilled chewing on a piece of grass.

As I head up the hill I notice some human houses with fences to the field. I can see in the wooden slat fence a gate with a padlock able bolt lock in grey metal. I slow down and slide the bolt back which opens the wooden gate onto a path / unmade road. I step through onto the path and close the gate behind me. I am met by a middle aged Germanic house frau with blonde hair fixed in pleated curls to her head. She gestures me to follow her into her house and thence into a garage come hangar. I now have  a white long sleeve shirt on. I know that I am in an alpine village and that the elevation is around 1500m or more. I can tell this from the flowers in the meadow. She is very insistent on showing me into the hangar.

On the concrete there is a large model wooden plane with a brilliant red paint job {think red arrows}. It has a wingspan of over one metre. The propellor on the front is damaged. She asks me to fix it. I look up the model number on a lap top and download a technical drawing of the spare parts. I order these. The parts cannot be delivered on time. We agree that there needs to be a faux or ersatz propellor for the show. She calls a relative, a male, who fashions a propeller out of hide leather. This will be good enough for the first show. However the village is buzzing because an offshoot for the Davos World Economic Forum is due to visit the village. It will be good for the local economy ongoing.

She says that I should fit my own novel prototype propellers in time for this visit. I have developed a new kind of prop-drive unit which they would like to see. I agree and start fashioning the propeller design out of some metal lying to one side of the workshop / hangar. I check that the design will fit and can be driven by the onboard motor of the model plane. This will be ready for the Davos offshoot and they are particularly interested to see what it is that I, specifically, have designed.

The scene changes and it is just after dusk. The air is warm and scented and I am in the back seat of a taxi come limousine. I am arriving at the drop off “roundabout” in front of the Hilton Intercontinental in Cairo. I am a specially invited speaker at some kind of conference there. The driver gets out and opens the door for me. I go in and head to reception.

The scene now changes to some kind of communal market / fête. People are milling about it is in a town centre. Some kind of market town like Marlborough. I have been interviewing people with a microphone and a small production crew. I have been giving them the verbal prompt “freedom” and asking them to make a short response as to what springs first to mind. We have edited the first batch of clips and are projecting them onto what looks like a cricket white side sight screen. There is sound.

The first clip is of me saying “freedom”. The people / audience pause and watch.

The subsequent clips are of people responding to camera and microphone.

“Freedom from war.”

“Freedom from oppression.”

“Freedom from hate.”

“Freedom to love.”

“Freedom to think.”

“Freedom to breathe.”

“Freedom simply to be.”

Once the clips have been shown the people carry on about their business.

I am with three generations of a family they are a Somali / Eritrean grandmother skinny in a headscarf, she has that distinctive look, her anglicised more corpulent daughter dressed smartly and Western and a young girl. The daughter ushers me into the back of a limousine / van where we will edit more of the responses. I initially sit in the front left hand passenger seat. I cannot easily help the edit. It tanks it down with rain. I get out of the car into a deep puddle wetting my legs near up to the knee. This causes hilarity particularly for the young girl. I climb into the back and am handed the lap top. We are very happy that we have gotten enough “freedom” clips for now.

I awake for a loo break. I am in two minds whether or not to get up because if there are more dreams I may not be able to remember and recollect them all. That is already a lot to recall.

I drift back off and am in some kind of a social club / bar. I am in the entrance vestibule taking off my jacket when deeper in the bar I see Anita. She sees me and come running over to give me a hug. She is small. She says that she is very glad to see me because she wanted to tell me that she is leaving for Geneva. She has a job there. I say that this is fantastic. I have a series of commitments starting first in Fribourg and working my way south towards Geneva. Ending with a gig there. I have an “appointment” or job at a school near Geneva if I want one.

The dreaming gets more bitty but has me returning later to the bar to pick up my keys and things. I am completely naked and vulnerable but the barman has kept my things to one side and is very happy to return them to me.

The dream ends and I am determined not to go back to sleep.

Is Being Negative Clever?

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

This topic was raised in a dream last night.

Some imagine that being highly sceptical and picking holes in everything is the hallmark of intellect and perhaps cleverness. Please understand that when I use the word clever I do not do so in a positive sense. Clever for me is a derogatory term implying an arrogant perhaps smug self-satisfaction, a know-it-all misplaced glee. It is very easy to pick holes, much harder to mend them. I’ll suggest that it is a flaw of human sociopolitical mindset to be negative. To always find fault and thereby prove just how bad and terrible things are. It is a prejudice. A crowd, perhaps baying, will get behind a negative sentiment easily.

Back when I used to do personal and team development courses my favourite piece of personal feedback was, “Alan’s ability to constantly find positives in every situation was tiresome and irritating!” This was from young Ph.D. students at a Complexity doctoral training centre in UCL. Young people full of negativity are hard to motivate. Can’t is a self fulfilling prophecy. Eeyore is alive and tolerably well, not too bad, getting by, moping.

One of the things which has surprised me about France is just how negative people collectively are. They are inert, they complain and find fault. They are actually more negative than cynical Brits. They have shit loads of great technology which nobody outside of France buys. This is because they seem too shy and embarrassed, perhaps arrogant and lazy, to meanigfully address non Francophone markets. There is a cloud of negativity and little encouragement. The medical profession here lacks warmth and is process driven. It is very good but mostly soul less. Few understand my post hip operation career at the Bolshoi. Graveyard humour is lacking and as a result things can be dour and sullen.

In the dream last night I was talking with a British GP doctor. She was posh upper class and old school, roughly my age. She was tweedy and clearly had an intimate relationship with gin and tonic. You could imagine her on a pheasant shoot equipped with cognac filled hip flask. She was looking at all my extensive medical tests. On the basis of these she wanted to know why I had come to see her. I explained that I was concerned about getting a post cold chest infection. She said that I should not be such an idiot. All my tests showed that aside from my arthritis I am in a very good state of health for my age and considering my past consumption. She said that we was considering telling me to fuck off out of her office. I do not have COPD and my ticker works just find. I said that the constant pain puts a down lens on things. She said that in a half a year or so things would look more rosy. Cheer up!

It kind of highlights how the medical profession may send one off to be a lab rat and then forget to give you perspective. If you have 70 medical appointments in a year you will assume yourself to be severely ill, when you may not be. It shows how the big grey heavy mental cloud of negativity can drag you down suck out your spirit like a Potteresque dementor.  On Monday I stood in the “happy” queue at the pharmacy in the local village. Shiny happy people it was not.

“Sitting here eating my heart out baby, I need some hot stuff baby…” It was a shame that the radio was not on…

The world right now lacks direction, positive direction. It is a heavy and very negative space. Hope is a very rare thing just now. Division and negativity are the prevalent toxins.

Being overly negative is a very big downer…man…