Rose Caves
Last night it occurred to me that I keep writing about caves. This might be a bit odd. The first short story I wrote was broadcast on Radio Scotland in the godslot one Sunday evening. How I laughed at that! I wrote it sometime after reading The Varieties of Religious Experience, a great book which had a big effect on me, but the contents of which now completely elude me. Must have been about caves.
In Light in the Dark, which Michi Regier actually read, has someone in a cave. The Real McCoy ,which is the book I enjoyed writing most, I think, has a boy in a cave. Here in the Unheard of and McDonald Islands, of course, I'm now esconced in .... a cave. If I make some money from writing (ha, ha, ha!) (which I will soon!), I'd like to go to Bhutan to see where Padmashambhava meditated. It's a cave!
The view from the cave today is superb. It's is overcast and drizzling. Nothing could be better. There is still three hours of digging to be done in the allotment .... but not in the rain. Instead, I should go for a run, but ... it's raining. I will have to write my book at some point today, but other than that, I'll just meditate.
With the great progress in the juju, I no longer have to worry. If anyone comes to see me, that's fine. If they want to row here and fight their way passed the nazi penguins, that's their business. I have an ongoing situation here and nothing is going to hold it back now. So today I'm cool. I can go with the flow. I don't have to go to work till Monday. It's just after noon on Thursday. It feels as if I must have done something right!
8:40 p.m.
There's a great photie of the sensei and reverend on his blog. The whole thing has a peaceful tone which will be down to the massive amounts of painkillers he must be taking. No grinning into the camera with the severed arm in one hand and the bulldog 44 in the other. He and Adolf, who apart from Masai warriors and robots and some mad anagrams, are the only people who regularly visit this site, both have sore backs and like green tea.
I got an email today from Anajali Pratap from AP Watt. She said she wasn't hassling me, but she hadn't got the book in the post. I was rather taken aback. An agent has never tried even the mildest of hassles with me. Usually, they immediately delete the emails and hope the RSPCA aren't on the way. Anyway, I had to send it as an attachment. I think all this means that she will at least read the first couple of pages. If she gets to the castle, we're sound. Only one agent has ever agreed to look at this book. Rosemary Canter office had it and rejected it. It had taken me about a year to get anyone in the business to read it and after Rosemary Canter didn't want it, I gave up. For a bit.
I went for a run today in the drizzle, or less than the drizzle. The word might sound like smir, but I can't spell it. I did my six mile run which I haven't done for weeks and weeks; not since I had to dig the allotment. I felt really good. It was odd. There was none of the anxiety you'd expect. About being sore, tired, not liking it, etc. It was brilliant. Getting rid of anxiety is the name of the game. Calm people aren't anxious.
Now that I feel ironclad, that the juju will happen whatever and I shouldn't be anxious about the flatheids coming to see me, there's no one in sight. Just me and the penguins far below goosestepping along the shoreline. Allah Akbar!
10:30 p.m.
Ra bliss, ra bliss. It's a wee while since I mentioned how pleasureable ra bliss can be. There is no apparent end to how blissful ra bliss can be. Tonight ra bliss was right up there and better than anything else has ever been. This is RaBlissBlog and tonight there was more bliss than ever before. It's not like ice cream. You can't get too much of ra bliss. You might get as much of ra bliss as you can take. What a fortunate creature I am! So are all of you, except you might not meditate and probably have no idea about ra bliss at all. Hotboy
In Light in the Dark, which Michi Regier actually read, has someone in a cave. The Real McCoy ,which is the book I enjoyed writing most, I think, has a boy in a cave. Here in the Unheard of and McDonald Islands, of course, I'm now esconced in .... a cave. If I make some money from writing (ha, ha, ha!) (which I will soon!), I'd like to go to Bhutan to see where Padmashambhava meditated. It's a cave!
The view from the cave today is superb. It's is overcast and drizzling. Nothing could be better. There is still three hours of digging to be done in the allotment .... but not in the rain. Instead, I should go for a run, but ... it's raining. I will have to write my book at some point today, but other than that, I'll just meditate.
With the great progress in the juju, I no longer have to worry. If anyone comes to see me, that's fine. If they want to row here and fight their way passed the nazi penguins, that's their business. I have an ongoing situation here and nothing is going to hold it back now. So today I'm cool. I can go with the flow. I don't have to go to work till Monday. It's just after noon on Thursday. It feels as if I must have done something right!
8:40 p.m.
There's a great photie of the sensei and reverend on his blog. The whole thing has a peaceful tone which will be down to the massive amounts of painkillers he must be taking. No grinning into the camera with the severed arm in one hand and the bulldog 44 in the other. He and Adolf, who apart from Masai warriors and robots and some mad anagrams, are the only people who regularly visit this site, both have sore backs and like green tea.
I got an email today from Anajali Pratap from AP Watt. She said she wasn't hassling me, but she hadn't got the book in the post. I was rather taken aback. An agent has never tried even the mildest of hassles with me. Usually, they immediately delete the emails and hope the RSPCA aren't on the way. Anyway, I had to send it as an attachment. I think all this means that she will at least read the first couple of pages. If she gets to the castle, we're sound. Only one agent has ever agreed to look at this book. Rosemary Canter office had it and rejected it. It had taken me about a year to get anyone in the business to read it and after Rosemary Canter didn't want it, I gave up. For a bit.
I went for a run today in the drizzle, or less than the drizzle. The word might sound like smir, but I can't spell it. I did my six mile run which I haven't done for weeks and weeks; not since I had to dig the allotment. I felt really good. It was odd. There was none of the anxiety you'd expect. About being sore, tired, not liking it, etc. It was brilliant. Getting rid of anxiety is the name of the game. Calm people aren't anxious.
Now that I feel ironclad, that the juju will happen whatever and I shouldn't be anxious about the flatheids coming to see me, there's no one in sight. Just me and the penguins far below goosestepping along the shoreline. Allah Akbar!
10:30 p.m.
Ra bliss, ra bliss. It's a wee while since I mentioned how pleasureable ra bliss can be. There is no apparent end to how blissful ra bliss can be. Tonight ra bliss was right up there and better than anything else has ever been. This is RaBlissBlog and tonight there was more bliss than ever before. It's not like ice cream. You can't get too much of ra bliss. You might get as much of ra bliss as you can take. What a fortunate creature I am! So are all of you, except you might not meditate and probably have no idea about ra bliss at all. Hotboy
posted by Hotboy at 12:03 PM
5 Comments:
hotboy, what's this about not making any money from writing? Have you told your readers about the year's holiday on VB in Australia at taxpayers' expense?
I've had no response from Michi, maybe she hasn't read my proposal yet. Has she said anything to you?
Only a straight proposal of marraige and help with relocation expenses to the Unheard of and McDonald Islands will do the trick here, Adolf. Also, practice falling down a lot. Otherwise, it'll have to be a photie in the blog in full nazi regalia! Hotboy
p.s Michi is probably too busy to look at her bloggy stuff more than once every few days. Unlike me. Once every two hour bloggy junky!
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
hotboy. I had to delete the previous comment, as it contained material so stimulating it could interfere with your bliss-chasing. You enquired about postmodernism. I have condensed decades of theory into a short comment here.
michi, I'm sorry but it seems you and I are not suited after all.
Your low opinion (and I can't blame you) of Blockheads and Oz means you'd never get on with a half-German Australian like me, even if we do have dogs, music, lao tsu and so much else in common (the DVD idea is good, though my own talents are limited to ukulele).
No hard feelings, I still love you and your blog and I wish you every success in your further quest for a man. If you are ever passing by the UnHeard & McDonald Islands, please drop in for an ale and a tour of the hermit caves.
Yours as ever, robmcj
PS I couldn't find any pictures of your dog on your blog. Is she coy?
michi. This is just a gratuitous post to give you a look at Maddy, photographic proof that there is an organism that loves me.
yours as ever, robmcj
PS I hope the new dog icon displays opposite my name, otherwise you'll wonder what the hell I'm on about, I would hate you to think I'm weird, then I'd probably have to delete this comment, then you'd wonder what shameful thing I had deleted, then I'd wonder whether there's any point in me hanging around till you dump your current paramours. Perhaps I should just get on with my life, I'll always cherish the memory of what we almost shared.
PPS Thanks for trying to make it easier for me to forget you with the threat of veterinary surgery. You always know the right thing to say.
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