Ra Summertime!
Saturday 17:36 p.m.
My new book is not available from my webpage, but since I don't expect it to get published anymore, I hustled my wee brother Popeye to read it. He said he thought it was "fab". Man of few words is Popeye! It's not on the webpage, but if anyone wants to have a look, I'll email it.
I stopped meditating last night at half eleven and started today at half eleven. For a while in the lobby last night, a great feeling of contentedness mixed in with the usual wonderments. Peace. Satiation. If this could be maintained,you might sit till the cows come home, and then some. The foe destroyers who sit for days at a time maybe have a huge wallop of this added in. But it's probably something completely different by the time you get to that stage.
I'm trying to get set for the summer holidays, when I should get six weeks off again. I was in the hut this afternoon for a couple of hours, just for a change of scene. There's a duplicate postcard of the Medicine Buddha sticking onto the doorpost, so that was nice to see!
I'd like to be able to stay in the hut for days and days at a stretch, Jack. No hut manager, no book published, no money. Just six straight weeks to investigate ra bliss! What a fortunate, fortunate creature I am!
11:45 p.m.
Stopped the juju at half eleven again. Why is it always half eleven?
Sandy Buchandyke sent me a naked photie of himself. Thanks for that, Sandy. Perhaps the Arabian gentlemen who come here looking for hotboys would be better off there. Or at Onan the Bavarian's. Stop sending me photies, Onan!
Probably doing eight or nine hours a day for the last three days. Glad I put in the time. Got a bit further, into different mind spots. And there's still tomorrow to go! And tonight is but a pup!
My new book is not available from my webpage, but since I don't expect it to get published anymore, I hustled my wee brother Popeye to read it. He said he thought it was "fab". Man of few words is Popeye! It's not on the webpage, but if anyone wants to have a look, I'll email it.
I stopped meditating last night at half eleven and started today at half eleven. For a while in the lobby last night, a great feeling of contentedness mixed in with the usual wonderments. Peace. Satiation. If this could be maintained,you might sit till the cows come home, and then some. The foe destroyers who sit for days at a time maybe have a huge wallop of this added in. But it's probably something completely different by the time you get to that stage.
I'm trying to get set for the summer holidays, when I should get six weeks off again. I was in the hut this afternoon for a couple of hours, just for a change of scene. There's a duplicate postcard of the Medicine Buddha sticking onto the doorpost, so that was nice to see!
I'd like to be able to stay in the hut for days and days at a stretch, Jack. No hut manager, no book published, no money. Just six straight weeks to investigate ra bliss! What a fortunate, fortunate creature I am!
11:45 p.m.
Stopped the juju at half eleven again. Why is it always half eleven?
Sandy Buchandyke sent me a naked photie of himself. Thanks for that, Sandy. Perhaps the Arabian gentlemen who come here looking for hotboys would be better off there. Or at Onan the Bavarian's. Stop sending me photies, Onan!
Probably doing eight or nine hours a day for the last three days. Glad I put in the time. Got a bit further, into different mind spots. And there's still tomorrow to go! And tonight is but a pup!
posted by Hotboy at 5:35 PM
5 Comments:
Did you quiz the brother to see if he actually read it? Better not send me it till I've finished Ancient Futures. I put it down for a while because it was too disturbing, but I did that with an Ian McEwan too, so you can use this in the blurb.
Never mind the bliss, can you or can you not write links that work? Yes you can! Soon you can sack the hut manager.
Onan? In know in Bavaria they only read goosestepping manuals, so I never had much hopes with you. But Popeye is from the valiant working classes and wouldn't know how to pervaricate or flim flam like the progeny of the evil bourgeois. Hope this helps. Hotboy
Forgive me, I had forgotten the tragedy of the blessed proletarians queueing for admission to the vicious evil bourgoisie. Being one of Mannheim's Freischwebende, I'm above all that. Or maybe it's the pills. Either way, what a fortunate creature one is.
You've turned into what? Must be some pills! Hotboy
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