Ra Neotropismists
Wednesday 1:52 p.m.
There was an intriguing comment on an earlier post from a neotropismist. I checked neotropism on web dictionaries, etc., and got zip. Maybe a wee mention of philosophy.
He blogs uner Neotropism. He says he's real. I'm not sure about that. There's only two posts on his blog and you can never tell in bloggyland. He could be a martian, or a spam robot. Or Adolf Hitler's reincarnation.
If he's a genuine human being, I'd say he's a student, probably Scottish, studies philosophy and ... he's interested in anarchism. Also, has the Communist Manifesto as one of his favourite books. That is a brilliant piece of writing. He also has Bomber as one of his favourite books. I clicked on that. Five people have Bomber as one of their favourite books. Definitely, one of them is a Len Deighton fan. He wrote a book called Bomber. So did I. It's on my web page, but has never been published before, so it can't be anyone's favourite book. If you could employ really cheap nine year olds to post tons of phoney blogs with all your unpublished books ... it probably wouldn't help at all.
Neotropism is reading his way through this blog from when it started just over a year ago. I would strongly advise against this as ... well, I was drunk at the time, your honour.
If anyone would like to stalk me, I'd like to remind everyone that although I'd like to aspire to sainthood, I am as yet still only the last in a long line of truly murderous basturns. Also, I am getting to know some cannibals and any flatheids I don't know coming near me risk being chopped up and sold off as mince. Or getting dug into my allotment.
I've just remembered that I wrote a play about folk eating each other. It was called Jock Tamson's Half Hearted Transformation and is on my page. It's all cannibals and caves with me.
If any criminals come upon this blog and would like to organise a place to bury some dead bodies, I've got just the place. I know all this DNA malarkey has made murdering people more problematic, but .... I can make them disappear! I'm just away to practise my digging skills at the moment.
Wonderful things will happen over the next couple of days. Wonderful, wonderful things!
9:10 p.m.
This is RaBlissBlog. Here comes some real time blissblogging! But to set the scene: it's just got dark about quarter of an hour ago. The lama says late afternoon is less use for the heat. Let's see!
From a cold start. Take a breath and do the vase breathing juju.
The difference between doing this an hour ago and doing it now is amazing. I meditated for about forty odd minutes then, I suppose, and it was working towards the end. Now ... I'll go again. Before, it might have gone pulse pulse up your body. Then it just went whoosh! Ra bliss, ra bliss, ra bliss! Go again. The navel symbol seems much, much brighter and more obvious. Type and breathe! I don't want to blog. I'll do ra bliss and get back to you in a minute or two with a resume. Maybe not. Looking at the screen, you feel the uplifting sensation uplifting round the front of your face and upper body. This is the sheath thing. I think with the appearance of the sheath thing, other things can happen. You're in a different zone. Breathe out there. Yippee! Quite blows you away. That went a lot further, gave you a bit of the shoogly sensation on your body. It's a loss of bearings really. Close your eyes and that's sublime!
Twenty minutes have passed since I started blogging. I'm only at the start of all the wonderful, wonderful feelings. Just take a deep breath and there's a very pleasant after-effect indeed. Ears roaring a little. You might as well just float away! This sheath thing is the key bit. I think once you've got that, it's green lights all the way to ra bliss.
You don't even need to be properly meditating. I'm not really meditating just now. It's just doing a pranayama really, or an occasional vase breath. This is just a taster. You can feel the heat coming. I think I should go and meditate now, but I might go out to the pub and see how Arsenal got on in the European Cup!
10:45p.m.
Walked all the way (five minutes, less!) to the pub and then all the way back. Game was over. No excuse for a pint of beer. Came home. Good boy!
So what do you get instead? Ripples of bliss texturing the edge of the envelope. That's in the later stages of the vase breath effect. A swelling of heat and ra bliss. Everthing is expanded. The distant roaring. Waves of pleasure. We're now in the complete bliss zone. Eyes closed. How could anything afterwards ever compare to this!
Have to take the kid to the bus stop! Embedded I am! Still a HotboyMadyamikaSurfingTheOceansOfBliss!
There was an intriguing comment on an earlier post from a neotropismist. I checked neotropism on web dictionaries, etc., and got zip. Maybe a wee mention of philosophy.
He blogs uner Neotropism. He says he's real. I'm not sure about that. There's only two posts on his blog and you can never tell in bloggyland. He could be a martian, or a spam robot. Or Adolf Hitler's reincarnation.
If he's a genuine human being, I'd say he's a student, probably Scottish, studies philosophy and ... he's interested in anarchism. Also, has the Communist Manifesto as one of his favourite books. That is a brilliant piece of writing. He also has Bomber as one of his favourite books. I clicked on that. Five people have Bomber as one of their favourite books. Definitely, one of them is a Len Deighton fan. He wrote a book called Bomber. So did I. It's on my web page, but has never been published before, so it can't be anyone's favourite book. If you could employ really cheap nine year olds to post tons of phoney blogs with all your unpublished books ... it probably wouldn't help at all.
Neotropism is reading his way through this blog from when it started just over a year ago. I would strongly advise against this as ... well, I was drunk at the time, your honour.
If anyone would like to stalk me, I'd like to remind everyone that although I'd like to aspire to sainthood, I am as yet still only the last in a long line of truly murderous basturns. Also, I am getting to know some cannibals and any flatheids I don't know coming near me risk being chopped up and sold off as mince. Or getting dug into my allotment.
I've just remembered that I wrote a play about folk eating each other. It was called Jock Tamson's Half Hearted Transformation and is on my page. It's all cannibals and caves with me.
If any criminals come upon this blog and would like to organise a place to bury some dead bodies, I've got just the place. I know all this DNA malarkey has made murdering people more problematic, but .... I can make them disappear! I'm just away to practise my digging skills at the moment.
Wonderful things will happen over the next couple of days. Wonderful, wonderful things!
9:10 p.m.
This is RaBlissBlog. Here comes some real time blissblogging! But to set the scene: it's just got dark about quarter of an hour ago. The lama says late afternoon is less use for the heat. Let's see!
From a cold start. Take a breath and do the vase breathing juju.
The difference between doing this an hour ago and doing it now is amazing. I meditated for about forty odd minutes then, I suppose, and it was working towards the end. Now ... I'll go again. Before, it might have gone pulse pulse up your body. Then it just went whoosh! Ra bliss, ra bliss, ra bliss! Go again. The navel symbol seems much, much brighter and more obvious. Type and breathe! I don't want to blog. I'll do ra bliss and get back to you in a minute or two with a resume. Maybe not. Looking at the screen, you feel the uplifting sensation uplifting round the front of your face and upper body. This is the sheath thing. I think with the appearance of the sheath thing, other things can happen. You're in a different zone. Breathe out there. Yippee! Quite blows you away. That went a lot further, gave you a bit of the shoogly sensation on your body. It's a loss of bearings really. Close your eyes and that's sublime!
Twenty minutes have passed since I started blogging. I'm only at the start of all the wonderful, wonderful feelings. Just take a deep breath and there's a very pleasant after-effect indeed. Ears roaring a little. You might as well just float away! This sheath thing is the key bit. I think once you've got that, it's green lights all the way to ra bliss.
You don't even need to be properly meditating. I'm not really meditating just now. It's just doing a pranayama really, or an occasional vase breath. This is just a taster. You can feel the heat coming. I think I should go and meditate now, but I might go out to the pub and see how Arsenal got on in the European Cup!
10:45p.m.
Walked all the way (five minutes, less!) to the pub and then all the way back. Game was over. No excuse for a pint of beer. Came home. Good boy!
So what do you get instead? Ripples of bliss texturing the edge of the envelope. That's in the later stages of the vase breath effect. A swelling of heat and ra bliss. Everthing is expanded. The distant roaring. Waves of pleasure. We're now in the complete bliss zone. Eyes closed. How could anything afterwards ever compare to this!
Have to take the kid to the bus stop! Embedded I am! Still a HotboyMadyamikaSurfingTheOceansOfBliss!
posted by Hotboy at 1:55 PM
5 Comments:
Neotropism: Ah ha! I thought it might be some new kind of psychotropics! What's the symbol? You might be a bit young to be a mason! Is it a masonic symbol? Anyway, there's flatheids and flatheids! Hotboy p.s. If you're interested in Scottish writing, check out the sensei at www.livejournal.com/users/BarryGraham. He seems to be able to live off it!
Troppy, if you're ever in Edinburgh, you should go on the Trainspotting Tour of Leith. I enjoyed it! It's great that you read novels. I think I only read one or two a year. Dearie me! Have to do something about that! Hotboy
hmmm....you must be stalkable! ;)
Lee Ann: As soon as I'm bankable, I'll be stalkable! Hotboy
HB - I turn my back and suddenly you're awash with comments. You could be bankable soon. How much to just rough up the old dear a little? You could wear the boxing gloves and knock a few teeth out. Don't leave any fingerprints. You'll be thankable.
Signed, The Pathotrope. Does that help?
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