Ra Blizzards are Here!
Friday 9:15 a.m.
Still much inspired by the 15 year old kid under the tree in Nepal. In the account I read, his maw was asked if she was worried about him. (Has there ever been a mother not worried about something?) She said sometimes at mealtimes (the kid hasn't eaten for six months), but then she thinks "God has taken him into the forest and God will feed him."
So I'm getting into the rowing boat and just about to head off for the Unheard of Island to get into some serious meditating when the telephone rang. I sit in the lobby when I'm meditating because the telephone sometimes rings and it's bettter to be there beside it. Almost always it's for the Domestic Bliss and it was this time. You can hear the person leaving a message. You think you might be able to help with this, so you pick up the phone. Bad mistake. There should be a flashing light attached to the phone. It should flash up: FLATHEID INTRUSION. So the josephine hands the phone over to her partner, an old friend of mine. You're funged right there. He's coming to see me tomorrow night. The first thing I need is a gun. If I shot any flatheids that came near me, I'd get into solitary confinement.
Although only Jack the Spam Robot and one Masai Warrior now visit this blog regularly, it will today breach the 3,000 visitor mark since it was set up in February. The webpage has taken over 365 hits as well.
I started meditating this morning at quarter past six, which is just about right for a Friday. Heat was there and lots of bliss. What a shame I let the flatheid in! What a great shape this weekend could have had! Today I give to ma maw, but I don't have to go out tonight since the Domestic Bliss has something to do. I could have meditated all day tomorrow and by tomorrow evening .... Here comes an open grave! Visitors make me nervous. Why are they there? What are they doing there? What do they want? If they don't want to meditate, why are they bothering me? It's because they're flatheids and they don't know anything about ra bliss, and they will never get it either. So where's my gun? I should go and stay in America. They keep you on death row for years and years and then give you a specific time to die. Brilliant!! Die as deity and arise as a deity!
I was half expecting the big elbow from Julia Churchill to be in the emails yesterday. I don't care as much now. By Monday I won't care at all. Anyway, if she reads the book to the end, her head won't be quite so flat. There's almost a description of how to do deity yoga in that book. The kid makes a monster. You make a deity. Then you get it over you head, into a white line and absorb it down through your body. I think that's the technique. I don't meditate for long enough usually to get enough time or calmness to do attempt much 3D stuff. But there surely lies the transcendence!
I've lost four pounds in the last two weeks. The snow is falling outside. I'm away to Bellshill.
11:30 p.m.
Did ra bliss from six till about nine tonight. Maybe seven hours today. Three hours before Bellshill and three hours after. Watched this BBC2 show about Adolf Hitler. From a Fruedian point of view, this guy Langer in 1933 did a Fruedian profile of Adolf... so, left to die from the beatings from his dad. Totally distraught from the death of his mum. Anyway, Langer got the prediction of the end right. But it gave me a round view of Frued, or Freud, or Fried Eggs. Rounded view. Like the application of something to something. Which shape is this? I liked that. But I was so sorry for all my deep dear friends, most of whom have recovered very well from the awfulness of the parenting.
So stand up you protestant basturns and say, just one of you funged up people, that you really liked your parents and really, really liked them until death. I'm dead sorry for mocking people who've been beat up. We were empowered. I'm sorry, we were. But soon I will go to Tennesssee and take refuge with the sensei and reverend and be amazed by all this. Hotboy
However, Joe Stalin told the pigs to beat people because that was the worst thing. Getting beaten. Nobody did that to me.
Nobody ever beat me up. But I am not a source of refuce. I'll go to see Barry first. He is a source of refuge to me. In the midst of ra trees. So, that's the first money stop. To the break.
Still much inspired by the 15 year old kid under the tree in Nepal. In the account I read, his maw was asked if she was worried about him. (Has there ever been a mother not worried about something?) She said sometimes at mealtimes (the kid hasn't eaten for six months), but then she thinks "God has taken him into the forest and God will feed him."
So I'm getting into the rowing boat and just about to head off for the Unheard of Island to get into some serious meditating when the telephone rang. I sit in the lobby when I'm meditating because the telephone sometimes rings and it's bettter to be there beside it. Almost always it's for the Domestic Bliss and it was this time. You can hear the person leaving a message. You think you might be able to help with this, so you pick up the phone. Bad mistake. There should be a flashing light attached to the phone. It should flash up: FLATHEID INTRUSION. So the josephine hands the phone over to her partner, an old friend of mine. You're funged right there. He's coming to see me tomorrow night. The first thing I need is a gun. If I shot any flatheids that came near me, I'd get into solitary confinement.
Although only Jack the Spam Robot and one Masai Warrior now visit this blog regularly, it will today breach the 3,000 visitor mark since it was set up in February. The webpage has taken over 365 hits as well.
I started meditating this morning at quarter past six, which is just about right for a Friday. Heat was there and lots of bliss. What a shame I let the flatheid in! What a great shape this weekend could have had! Today I give to ma maw, but I don't have to go out tonight since the Domestic Bliss has something to do. I could have meditated all day tomorrow and by tomorrow evening .... Here comes an open grave! Visitors make me nervous. Why are they there? What are they doing there? What do they want? If they don't want to meditate, why are they bothering me? It's because they're flatheids and they don't know anything about ra bliss, and they will never get it either. So where's my gun? I should go and stay in America. They keep you on death row for years and years and then give you a specific time to die. Brilliant!! Die as deity and arise as a deity!
I was half expecting the big elbow from Julia Churchill to be in the emails yesterday. I don't care as much now. By Monday I won't care at all. Anyway, if she reads the book to the end, her head won't be quite so flat. There's almost a description of how to do deity yoga in that book. The kid makes a monster. You make a deity. Then you get it over you head, into a white line and absorb it down through your body. I think that's the technique. I don't meditate for long enough usually to get enough time or calmness to do attempt much 3D stuff. But there surely lies the transcendence!
I've lost four pounds in the last two weeks. The snow is falling outside. I'm away to Bellshill.
11:30 p.m.
Did ra bliss from six till about nine tonight. Maybe seven hours today. Three hours before Bellshill and three hours after. Watched this BBC2 show about Adolf Hitler. From a Fruedian point of view, this guy Langer in 1933 did a Fruedian profile of Adolf... so, left to die from the beatings from his dad. Totally distraught from the death of his mum. Anyway, Langer got the prediction of the end right. But it gave me a round view of Frued, or Freud, or Fried Eggs. Rounded view. Like the application of something to something. Which shape is this? I liked that. But I was so sorry for all my deep dear friends, most of whom have recovered very well from the awfulness of the parenting.
So stand up you protestant basturns and say, just one of you funged up people, that you really liked your parents and really, really liked them until death. I'm dead sorry for mocking people who've been beat up. We were empowered. I'm sorry, we were. But soon I will go to Tennesssee and take refuge with the sensei and reverend and be amazed by all this. Hotboy
However, Joe Stalin told the pigs to beat people because that was the worst thing. Getting beaten. Nobody did that to me.
Nobody ever beat me up. But I am not a source of refuce. I'll go to see Barry first. He is a source of refuge to me. In the midst of ra trees. So, that's the first money stop. To the break.
posted by Hotboy at 9:11 AM
3 Comments:
I say old chap!
I hope the chill has not set in.
The forcast is more mvula for hereabouts!
MM III
Wow snow....I wish we could get a little here. It is a little warmer than normal here today.
Did you have some bad visitors? Do you have a gun?
So is that how you get to your spot of meditation, by rowing boat?
HB - The rabies quarantine should bring you some peace from tele-flatheads. I do know what you mean, it's the same here. Often it's Mrs McJ calling to speak to her son who's barricaded in his bedroom with sex pistols turned up to 11. I'm expected to waste perfectly good blogging time bashing on the door to try to get through to him that there's a call for him.
They actually have a technology called CND, that flashes the phone number and even the name of the caller, so you needn't bother answering it. I find that helps.
Another thing that helps - when you actually answer the phone and someone says "hullo Mr Gorgonzola" (Mrs McJay's maiden name is Gorgonzola), you know it's some sales person from India who's working through the phone book. Then you can just hang up, it saves wasting everyone's time. Sometimes that's the most decisive thing I do all day.
Does this help?
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