Bee Hive



Ego death is not for the nervous. Actually it is for the nervous as deep fear is part of it. It’s a paradox. The Void is not a fun place. The way it’s being done is extraordinarily weird. Healing is not simply a matter of releasing ego beliefs and has a serious effect on reality which then has to be coped with even though it’s an illusion.


Bleak House


The Abyss


Another day, another journey. I’m aware the unexpected journeys may be of no interest to anyone apart from myself but the Universe for some reason wants me to write them down for history which is odd as where I end up seems to be about memory. The journeys have already happened. Maybe more than a few times. Birth to death and back again. And again and again for what seems like forever.

I don’t know the purpose of why I’m writing them down for posterity. I have found there is always a reason for what I do even though at the time it doesn’t make a lot of sense. All the places have powerful personal emotional triggers attached to them.







Believing is seeing or seeing is believing ?



Are you a human doing or a human being ?



From Wiki – Beehive, Gatwick :

The Beehive is the original terminal building at Gatwick Airport, England. Opened in 1936, it became obsolete in the 1950s as the airport expanded.In 2008, it was converted into serviced offices, operated by Orega, having served as the headquarters of franchised airline GB Airways for some years before that. It was the world’s first fully integrated airport building, and is considered a nationally and internationally important example of airport terminal design. The Beehive is a part of the City Place Gatwick office complex. The 20,000-square-foot (1,900 m2) former terminal building is on a 2-acre (0.81 ha) site.








13 thoughts on “Bee Hive

    1. Roob

      Waiting on a bench for me opposite the Beehive yesterday. And it works. Been here before a few times.

      Someone described the Matrix or whatever as a revolving fan which is slowing down. Looping.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Following the dots.

        I was at Gatwick Airport. Yesterday again was another day with about six movies woven into the day if not more.

        I got in a lift and when I went down a floor I was expecting the door in front of me to open. And actually the door behind me opened which was a surprise. Felt like the scene from Fringe when Olivia crossed over dimensions. Or maybe both doors opened and I went out of both doors and I can only remember exiting one of the doors. It’s a Mind Fxxk. Copenhagen. When faced with a choice how does the Universe decide and maybe it chooses both.

        Also the Holocaust – Schindler’s Ark. When I googled ‘elevators with two doors’ this video showed up.


        Liked by 1 person

        1. And by ‘coincidence’ it is Holocaust Memorial Day tomorrow.

          What’s too painful to remember, we simply choose to forget.

          There’s a car clue in the name. Meant to see. What is real cannot die.

          Scrambled childhood memories.


          Liked by 1 person

          1. Two World Wars and glitches in the matrix. And why what we are experiencing with the shift is a memory of the physical Universe since the year dot over an unimaginable length of linear time in a way we can cope with so it can be released. Which then weaves in and out of time. Microcosm and macrocosm. IMO.

            Liked by 1 person

        2. The lift doors opening the at the opposite direction to the way I entered happened to me at a hospital on Monday. I couldn’t help but feel like a right numpty when the doors opened and I was facing the wrong direction.


          1. Swim

            Very weird sensation. When I turned round the people getting in the lift in the door behind gave me a sympathetic smile. I am interested in the Jewish angle with ‘Schindler’ and fits with an article which I’ve just put up and scrambled memories .

            In A Broken Dream


  1. Jung’s house dream and waiting for a train.

    I was in a house I did not know, which had two storeys. It was “my house”. I found myself in the upper storey, where there was a kind of salon furnished with fine old pieces in Rococo style. On the walls hung a number of precious old paintings. I wondered that this should be my house and thought “not bad”. But then it occurred to me that I did not know what the lower floor looked like. Descending the stairs, I reached the ground floor. There everything was much older. I realised that this part of the house must date from about the fifteenth or sixteenth century. The furnishings were mediaeval, the floors were of red brick. Everywhere it was rather dark. I went from one room to another thinking “now I really must explore the whole house.” I came upon a heavy door and opened it. Beyond it, I discovered a stone stairway that led down into a cellar. Descending again, I found myself in a beautifully vaulted room which looked exceedingly ancient. Examining the walls, I discovered layers of brick among the ordinary stone blocks, and chips of brick in the mortar. As soon as I saw this, I knew that the walls dated from Roman times. My interest by now was intense. I looked more closely at the floor. It was of stone slabs and in one of these I discovered a ring. When I pulled it, the stone slab lifted and again I saw a stairway of narrow stone steps leading down to the depths. These, too, I descended and entered a low cave cut into rock. Thick dust lay on the floor and in the dust were scattered bones and broken pottery, like remains of a primitive culture. I discovered two human skulls, obviously very old, and half disintegrated. Then I awoke.

    The house, as Jung saw clearly, is a metaphor for the psyche. The dream starts off with Jung being in a house he doesn’t know, yet it is his own house. The fact that the house is his own represents the ‘almost exclusive personalism’ aspect of the question Jung was exploring.,the%20question%20Jung%20was%20exploring.


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