Ra Number 12
Wednesday
Since 1999, I've had to go up from Stockbridge to Princes Street to get a bus to my workplace. When I started doing this, I was very pleased. Princes Street is as good a street to stand on waiting for a bus as anywhere in the world probably. Here comes the number 12.
I had to drink the twelve cans of Murphys on my own last night and was a little late getting up this morning. So I'm standing in Princes Street and here comes the 22. It's a single decker and doesn't go the way of the number 12, but is much faster. There are a lot of people on that bus and they're all squeezed up. They are not the evil bourgeois. Most are in their thirties and are not old enough to be the evil bourgeois. Most of them are not very good looking. This is the same all over northern Europe. Folk with mix and match faces put together by blind people. The bus is full. I sneezed twice. Avian flu and they're all dead.
The number 12 is a double decker and is not so fast and has less folk on it. It is my favourite bus of all time. This is a great bus journey. You get on at Princes Street and go upstairs. If the front seat is empty all the better. Put your hands into the sleeves of your jacket to keep them warm, and clutch the bag to your chest, close your eyes.
The bus goes all along Princes Street and does a bit of twisting and turning at Haymarket. Then it doesn't turn again till it gets near my work about twenty minutes later. So you know when to open your eyes. When it does the left turn at Costorphine. Then you see the Pentland Hills and the outside of town and you have to think: What a wonderful day to be emanating into!
A flatheid would always get the 22. Flatheids don't get ra bliss. They wouldn't keep their eyes shut till they got to Costorphine. When they close their eyes, all they get is their eyes closed. Dearie me. It's a shame. But it's not my fault that they're all flatheids. It really isn't.
7:20 p.m.
Despite falling into the open grave (again!) last night, what bliss I got this afternoon! Another bliss barrier bursted!! I keep failing to give things up, but I'm making brilliant progress anyway. I can't take any credit for this of course. The juju seems to have its own momentum. You observe in astonishment and awe. I had no idea there was so much of ra bliss! I kind of lost my body a bit today. More or less in a huge expansiveness of ra bliss. The effects of even a wee vase breath were amazing. You feel as if you're floating. It is wonderful.
I googled "experiences in meditation" and read about this woman having the most horrible time with kundalini, a real Gopi Krishna job. This is a very ill person. She also sounded like a nice person. She probably didn't ever drink 12 cans of Murphy's the night before getting zapped by ra bliss. I don't know what's going on. But I'm sure to have a fabulous time tonight and tomorrow!! What joy! What bliss! Oh, to surf the oceans of bliss!! Here comes ra heat! Here comes ra heat!
Since 1999, I've had to go up from Stockbridge to Princes Street to get a bus to my workplace. When I started doing this, I was very pleased. Princes Street is as good a street to stand on waiting for a bus as anywhere in the world probably. Here comes the number 12.
I had to drink the twelve cans of Murphys on my own last night and was a little late getting up this morning. So I'm standing in Princes Street and here comes the 22. It's a single decker and doesn't go the way of the number 12, but is much faster. There are a lot of people on that bus and they're all squeezed up. They are not the evil bourgeois. Most are in their thirties and are not old enough to be the evil bourgeois. Most of them are not very good looking. This is the same all over northern Europe. Folk with mix and match faces put together by blind people. The bus is full. I sneezed twice. Avian flu and they're all dead.
The number 12 is a double decker and is not so fast and has less folk on it. It is my favourite bus of all time. This is a great bus journey. You get on at Princes Street and go upstairs. If the front seat is empty all the better. Put your hands into the sleeves of your jacket to keep them warm, and clutch the bag to your chest, close your eyes.
The bus goes all along Princes Street and does a bit of twisting and turning at Haymarket. Then it doesn't turn again till it gets near my work about twenty minutes later. So you know when to open your eyes. When it does the left turn at Costorphine. Then you see the Pentland Hills and the outside of town and you have to think: What a wonderful day to be emanating into!
A flatheid would always get the 22. Flatheids don't get ra bliss. They wouldn't keep their eyes shut till they got to Costorphine. When they close their eyes, all they get is their eyes closed. Dearie me. It's a shame. But it's not my fault that they're all flatheids. It really isn't.
7:20 p.m.
Despite falling into the open grave (again!) last night, what bliss I got this afternoon! Another bliss barrier bursted!! I keep failing to give things up, but I'm making brilliant progress anyway. I can't take any credit for this of course. The juju seems to have its own momentum. You observe in astonishment and awe. I had no idea there was so much of ra bliss! I kind of lost my body a bit today. More or less in a huge expansiveness of ra bliss. The effects of even a wee vase breath were amazing. You feel as if you're floating. It is wonderful.
I googled "experiences in meditation" and read about this woman having the most horrible time with kundalini, a real Gopi Krishna job. This is a very ill person. She also sounded like a nice person. She probably didn't ever drink 12 cans of Murphy's the night before getting zapped by ra bliss. I don't know what's going on. But I'm sure to have a fabulous time tonight and tomorrow!! What joy! What bliss! Oh, to surf the oceans of bliss!! Here comes ra heat! Here comes ra heat!
posted by Hotboy at 9:33 AM
2 Comments:
Wow, a double decker bus. I have never been on one, but it sounds great.
I would love to stand on that street and wait for a bus, sounds lovely.
LA - You can get knifed waiting for the bus in Princes St.
HB - Why am I still so good? At what age do the bourgeoisie graduate to pure evil? Maybe the petit bourgeois is exempt. At last, my class is good for something! This does help.
Congratulations on the 12 cans. On a good day I can manage about 2 cans of 1% ultra-lite before I need to go and lie down. That always helps.
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