Rat Reality Check!
Tuesday
From the previous post. So in the chip shop you slowly turn and there stands Rourkey as a werewolf.
Does the werewolf exist or not? It seemed to be there alright, but I knew it was really Rourkey. Otherwise, I suppose I might have fainted. But the werewolf did have a kind of existence. As an illusion.
That must be how deity yoga eventually works. You look round slowly and there it is: Dorje Sempa, a bit of a buddha. I guess that's how it's supposed to work with the symbols at various parts of your body. You look for it in your navel and there it is. But it wouldn't stay there forever surely. If you didn't continually reinforce it, it would fade, you'd think. Anyway, seeing Dorje Sempa in front of you shouldn't be all that different from seeing Rourkey as a werewolf.
You might not have weak acid to work with, but funny things do happen when your mind gets really calm, like after a couple of days without the telly, in a room, with nothing else to do but meditate.
Thinking of Bratisanni's, I had a few tricky moments trying to order stuff from the counter in there. Once when we were doing acid at Shiva's place, I agreed to leave the flat and go for the messages. Everybody wants something and I'm tripping out my face, but what are we if not memory? So I'm in the queue at the counter and I'm rather nervously going over the rather long order. Just don't forget anything. Remember to say cigarette papers and not skins and we can be in, out, and away scotfree in a jiffy. But I'm constantly going over the order in my head then the guy in front steps away and I'm looking at the lassie.
How to make someone's day. The lassie in the overall looks really quite pissed off. She gives me a perfunctory "Wha...?"
In a rush: "Can Ah have ten Silk Cut, twenty No6, forty Regal, ten Benson an' Hedges, a box of matches, two packets of cheese and onion crisps, a packet of Tunes, and a packet of cigarette papers, please." I'm feeling a bit chuffed about getting the cigarette paper bit right as I look at her and she suddenly explodes in laughter."
"Wha..? Ha, ha, ha, ha! You want what?"
I'm not too sure what that's about, so I gamely start the order again. "Can Ah have ten Silk Cut , twenty No6 ...."
"Naw, slow up! Slow up," she says, highly amused.
That works better if you've dropped acid at least once. My pal Flatnose O'Rourke didn't do it twice. Maybe all that talk about werewolves ...
I ripped off this deity yoga stuff and used it in Light in the Dark, which is on my webpage of course.
LSD is of course very dangerous and certainly should not be given to anyone who's had to endure the heavy duty Calvinist toilet training meted out by the evil bourgeois. That rules out both Brian and Adolf, but my friend Poisonous looks as though he must have been forced to goosestep about with a potty on his head practically since he was able to stand and acid never did him any harm ... apart from the twitch of course.
From the previous post. So in the chip shop you slowly turn and there stands Rourkey as a werewolf.
Does the werewolf exist or not? It seemed to be there alright, but I knew it was really Rourkey. Otherwise, I suppose I might have fainted. But the werewolf did have a kind of existence. As an illusion.
That must be how deity yoga eventually works. You look round slowly and there it is: Dorje Sempa, a bit of a buddha. I guess that's how it's supposed to work with the symbols at various parts of your body. You look for it in your navel and there it is. But it wouldn't stay there forever surely. If you didn't continually reinforce it, it would fade, you'd think. Anyway, seeing Dorje Sempa in front of you shouldn't be all that different from seeing Rourkey as a werewolf.
You might not have weak acid to work with, but funny things do happen when your mind gets really calm, like after a couple of days without the telly, in a room, with nothing else to do but meditate.
Thinking of Bratisanni's, I had a few tricky moments trying to order stuff from the counter in there. Once when we were doing acid at Shiva's place, I agreed to leave the flat and go for the messages. Everybody wants something and I'm tripping out my face, but what are we if not memory? So I'm in the queue at the counter and I'm rather nervously going over the rather long order. Just don't forget anything. Remember to say cigarette papers and not skins and we can be in, out, and away scotfree in a jiffy. But I'm constantly going over the order in my head then the guy in front steps away and I'm looking at the lassie.
How to make someone's day. The lassie in the overall looks really quite pissed off. She gives me a perfunctory "Wha...?"
In a rush: "Can Ah have ten Silk Cut, twenty No6, forty Regal, ten Benson an' Hedges, a box of matches, two packets of cheese and onion crisps, a packet of Tunes, and a packet of cigarette papers, please." I'm feeling a bit chuffed about getting the cigarette paper bit right as I look at her and she suddenly explodes in laughter."
"Wha..? Ha, ha, ha, ha! You want what?"
I'm not too sure what that's about, so I gamely start the order again. "Can Ah have ten Silk Cut , twenty No6 ...."
"Naw, slow up! Slow up," she says, highly amused.
That works better if you've dropped acid at least once. My pal Flatnose O'Rourke didn't do it twice. Maybe all that talk about werewolves ...
I ripped off this deity yoga stuff and used it in Light in the Dark, which is on my webpage of course.
LSD is of course very dangerous and certainly should not be given to anyone who's had to endure the heavy duty Calvinist toilet training meted out by the evil bourgeois. That rules out both Brian and Adolf, but my friend Poisonous looks as though he must have been forced to goosestep about with a potty on his head practically since he was able to stand and acid never did him any harm ... apart from the twitch of course.
posted by Hotboy at 2:48 PM
3 Comments:
I had a dream the night before last, where you and I were walking home at night after seeing a film (maybe The Werewolf) and we reached your place. You said you had some weed and did I want to come in for a smoke. When we got inside, the D B was there with a rolling pin and not a mood conducive to a smoke.
If Shiva is a tall guy, I may know him.
You said your blog was having an identity crisis recently and needed a makeover. Well, now might be a good time to make it into a bit of a shop-window for the meditation for money website. You could do something like Postmodern Courtesan has done in her blog.
May I suggest that you first outline the religious beliefs and tenets of Ra Bliss, so other bloggers can avoid posting images that might give offence?
PS - heather, are you there? That link might be useful to you, recalling a certain thread at your place a few months ago, about anatomical terminology. I hope this helps.
That is funny, you got the order right, but it was so fast....
she knew, and she was amused!
hahaha
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