Sweet Thursday!

Thursday 9:24 p.m.
I think Thursday is my favourite day of the week! I don't have to go to the jobbie on Thursday, but most other folk have to, and so I get peace and quiet to do what I want.

After three days and nights of sober and straight, I started meditating this morning at half six. What I'd like to tell yous about is the fantastic wee sleep I had from half one till three in the afternoon. I suppose I must have meditated about four or five hours by then. Anyway, I lies down on the couch and covers myself up with the meditation towel.

I got bought a towel with dolphins on it when I lived in West Australia circa 1990 and I've always used it for sitting on whilst meditating. I've never used it as a towel. Once, when my back was turned, the Domestic Bliss put it through the washing machine, but that's the only time it's been washed...

Why are women like that, Jack? Why do they have to sneak about and wash things when you're not looking? By then, it was turning into kind of leatherish stuff. Anyway, it's only been washed once in 19 years and if you'd like to make me an offer for it ... well, you couldn't afford it. Bill Gates couldn't afford it. When I'm handed the black spot, I might boil it up and eat it. Or give it to little Jack the Spam Robot, my deepest dearest friend!

Anyway, I lie on the couch and cover myself with the towel, as you do .... you can see out of the window and it is miserable as hell out there. No way are you going to the allotment with the overcast drizzle and cold and whatnot. But you clicky off the one o clock news and close your eyes.

What can I say to you flatheids about what it is like to close your eyes like this? I can say that you are a flatheid and have never closed your eyes and gone to this. Get yourself a towel and sit on it for nineteen years! So you're in the bliss. It's just there. There's really nothing in it but the whiteness and the blissfulness. You succumb to the couch. You tell yourself that it would be wonderful someday to be able to go from here into the lucid dreaming and you tell yourself that this might be the case today. But it isn't. You've just got the succumbing .... this is like falling into yoga nidra for you yoga nidra fans! ... and the bliss.

I'm fung knackered of course. Not only have I been sober and straight for three days, but I've also been doing a lot of physical jerks of one kind or another.

So you're in the bliss and a nanosecond pause, and you realise you've been asleep, but you are aware again and still in the bliss. This feels fabuloso! Back in and then out again. Whao! Are you going to open your eyes? Hmmm? Open your eyes and look out the window and it's beautiful! It's sunny and springlike and you take the nazi bike for a run down to Cramond ...

Everything is going perfectly if I'm going to live till I'm 290 years old. I'll get it all. Unfortunately, I'll have to nick out for some more beer so now it's a maybe 350 years old I'll have to be, but then I'll get it all.

The fundamentalist Christian nutter said Methuselah lived for so long because he did not sin. Is there an answer to that, Jack? If you only believe in ignorance, Hotboy, there are no answers to anything!

10:22 p.m.
After hitting the beer shop again.

I took the nazi bike out on Tuesday for the first time in ages and headed off for my Tai Chi class. I haven't been there since December, before Christmas.

I've become odder and odder at the Tai Chi over the years. I don't wear shoes. Everyone else wears shoes. I'm the only one there who sweats like a pig. I can do physical jerks a bit better than most of the folk who go there. Some are pretty old and some of them ... anyway, the woman who has taught me Tai Chi for the last fifteen years or so is called Jill. She was old then. God, she must be eighty now. At half time, she sits beside me ... that's the only spare seat ... and I'm already spouting nervously to this half deaf, nice taxi driver joe who is standing in front of me and her sitting beside me makes me worse. So I'm burbling like an idiot and mention the Samye Ling. Jill has never heard of it. She says: What do you do when you meditate?

What can you say to that, Jack? It breaks my heart to hear you saying that, Jill. She doesn't get paid for teaching this class. I usually don't speak to anyone there. This tai chi class has been massively helpful to me over the years. What do I say then, Jack? Do I say: Well, Jill, I fall into the bliss. Unfortunately, you do not know what the bliss is. It is just a word to you. Some day I will revisit this if I can. Maybe next Tuesday. But you just can't do it for people. The Domestic Bliss is a complete flatheid, for instance.

I think I'm getting depressed with the beers. I think it's time I went back to my own planet since I'm not allowed to go to hospital anymore.

11:03 p.m.
I think deep sleep is supposed to be synonymous with bliss. Causal or the subtle subtle body in the the great juju of jujus is supposed to be synonymous with bliss. How can deep sleep be synonymous with bliss since you can't remember anything or there is no remembrance therein? Don't ask me. This is maybe theoretical. Well, we've got the gross body and we all know what that is .... when it falls away and we go to sleep, we might get the subtle body which doesn't perceive the other gross manifestations like houses and rocks and whatnot, but can do images, emotions, etc.

The subtle body is what you are supposed to have when you are dead. It's the dream like scene which does the bardo. This is why you should be able to do dream yoga, or lucid dreaming. This is why you shouldn't get pissed before you go to bed. Or stoned. Hmmm? Oh well.