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Psychic Shenanigans

¦ dialling in from sky bunker ¦

07:47. A morbid greyness clings to the bulkhead window. Total silence apart from the steady hum of life-support down to my right side; the temperature continues to drop as the days march away from the weekend. Yesterday the wind was so angry I could feel rivets straining to pop, and I imagined this whole bunker being sucked up into the void and hurled away.

The garden adventure was a great success. Jo and I ripped the jungle apart and exposed the contours of the garden below. Still a lot of work needs doing but hey... there's visible progress.

13:05 Just returned from a wee drive to Bath, through green and rolling English hills, to see Matthias. A cup of Joe and listening to an Alan Watts segment; I introduced him to some UNKLE he'd not yet discovered. Matthias told me he'd e-mailed some scientist in Holland who is investigating parapsychology, in particular the ability of people to precognate events; the scientist replied to Matthias and invited him to be a subject. So we're sitting there, Matthias and I, in his kitchen, and he's telling me he has to tell the scientist every time he has a moment were he predicts some event before it happens. On impulse I punched him in the jaw. Just a tap, but my knuckles connected with a solid thump. There was a moment of stunned silence, then both of us cracked in howls of laugher. (He never saw THAT coming). Although I did feel guilty. Ahem.

Djr