Rose Solitary Realisers!
Thursday 10:36 a.m.
Edinburgh is full of flatheids. You go on a bus and there they are. All along the pavements. In the pubs. There might be one or two blissheids going around, but I don't know any. I had to admit that I was no longer normal a year passed last summer.
I was in the Meadows attending the start of a march, or a rally, all about eradicating world poverty, I think. It was the leaning forward while sitting there, and stretching up that made me realise I was no longer normal. If you can lean forward and get a big whoosh of ra bliss going up your body when you straighten up, you are no longer a normal.
I used to glory in my normality. While all my friends were funged up, disturbed or bizarre, I was average, normal, within the normal range, kind of a joe.
Some times when ra bliss and the uplifting force seem to be running stronger than ever, I think: Fung sake! This is not normal! Get a grip, Hotboy! Or worse still: I don't know what's going to happen next. Oh no!
To be a solitary realising foe destroyer you have to keep hold of your bottle!
Last night I ran away from ra bliss and went visiting instead. But I've been in the lobby today from quarter past nine. Unfortunately, I do not have the ability to describe what is happening to me as far as the changes in ra bliss is concerned. But when it gets stronger, blissier and, let's face it, this is not really totally under my control ... well, you feel like running away for a bit and doing normal stuff, like going to the pub!
Just sitting here, I know it's going to be a special day! Set the controls for the heart of the sun!
12:45 p.m.
Since I got a literary agent to handle my new book a month ago, I've been trying a wee bit harder with the discipline, and I think I've been off the beers more days than not. Just had a great morning sitting in the lobby. Only interupted for one headstand, one tai chi set and one backbend. No wonder I've no time to read books! Anyway, I don't know why I was getting anxious about the juju yesterday. Something about exploding in flames, going mad, crashing and burning, opening channels you can't close .... doubt! Anxiety! But all my plans are simple. Forward! Forward! Into ra bliss!!
7:03 p.m.
Put in about seven hours meditating today. The flat will be empty in half an hour and then I'll do some more.
Gladiator is on at nine o clock. Gladiator is a movie all about flatheids. Very rarely in films do you see the central character saying: This is a lot of old dukka! I'm away to meditate and do some of ra bliss instead of putting up with all this stabbing and chopping and spearing malarkey. However, at least in Gladiator there is enough of the old ultraviolence to hold one's attention between the boring bits where all the flatheids moan and groan at each other about a lot of flatheided stuff!
11:45 p.m.
Wonderful day! Nice mixture of things! We swopped days. She said what she'd done. I told her about the meditating for eight hours. In the lobby. She said: It is weird. Hmm?
There really aren't many signposts in the mind game. You kind of fumble your way. But it is necessary perhaps to have the idea that you can improve, and that doing something will improve it.
Is it weird to sit meditating for most of the day? Hmmm?
Edinburgh is full of flatheids. You go on a bus and there they are. All along the pavements. In the pubs. There might be one or two blissheids going around, but I don't know any. I had to admit that I was no longer normal a year passed last summer.
I was in the Meadows attending the start of a march, or a rally, all about eradicating world poverty, I think. It was the leaning forward while sitting there, and stretching up that made me realise I was no longer normal. If you can lean forward and get a big whoosh of ra bliss going up your body when you straighten up, you are no longer a normal.
I used to glory in my normality. While all my friends were funged up, disturbed or bizarre, I was average, normal, within the normal range, kind of a joe.
Some times when ra bliss and the uplifting force seem to be running stronger than ever, I think: Fung sake! This is not normal! Get a grip, Hotboy! Or worse still: I don't know what's going to happen next. Oh no!
To be a solitary realising foe destroyer you have to keep hold of your bottle!
Last night I ran away from ra bliss and went visiting instead. But I've been in the lobby today from quarter past nine. Unfortunately, I do not have the ability to describe what is happening to me as far as the changes in ra bliss is concerned. But when it gets stronger, blissier and, let's face it, this is not really totally under my control ... well, you feel like running away for a bit and doing normal stuff, like going to the pub!
Just sitting here, I know it's going to be a special day! Set the controls for the heart of the sun!
12:45 p.m.
Since I got a literary agent to handle my new book a month ago, I've been trying a wee bit harder with the discipline, and I think I've been off the beers more days than not. Just had a great morning sitting in the lobby. Only interupted for one headstand, one tai chi set and one backbend. No wonder I've no time to read books! Anyway, I don't know why I was getting anxious about the juju yesterday. Something about exploding in flames, going mad, crashing and burning, opening channels you can't close .... doubt! Anxiety! But all my plans are simple. Forward! Forward! Into ra bliss!!
7:03 p.m.
Put in about seven hours meditating today. The flat will be empty in half an hour and then I'll do some more.
Gladiator is on at nine o clock. Gladiator is a movie all about flatheids. Very rarely in films do you see the central character saying: This is a lot of old dukka! I'm away to meditate and do some of ra bliss instead of putting up with all this stabbing and chopping and spearing malarkey. However, at least in Gladiator there is enough of the old ultraviolence to hold one's attention between the boring bits where all the flatheids moan and groan at each other about a lot of flatheided stuff!
11:45 p.m.
Wonderful day! Nice mixture of things! We swopped days. She said what she'd done. I told her about the meditating for eight hours. In the lobby. She said: It is weird. Hmm?
There really aren't many signposts in the mind game. You kind of fumble your way. But it is necessary perhaps to have the idea that you can improve, and that doing something will improve it.
Is it weird to sit meditating for most of the day? Hmmm?
posted by Hotboy at 10:40 AM
3 Comments:
Just for the record, which one was I? Funged up, disturbed or bizarre?
I think I know your answer.
I know this is none of my business, it's your blog and everything, but why the last paragraph? What mental problem? Everything preceding was the ravings of a sane person. Don't fall at the last fence, or whatever you literary bods would call it. If you're just angling for a brownshirt maiden mood-lifter, we can arrange something to help.
Adolf! Zeig! You've solved the mental problems by not knowing what they were! Well done! Hotboy p.s. It was late at night and everyone else seems to have mental problems, so why not moi?
Envy is not attractive.
“Socialism is a philosophy .. of envy, its inherent virtue is the equal sharing of misery.” Churchill
Maybe you've got socialism, not mental problems.
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