Monday 9:40 p.m.
Scunnered is an interesting word. Sometimes I felt a wee bit scunnered today. Not such a bad day for nicotine withdrawals, just sometimes feeling a bit scunnered. No bob hope, no release.
So what of thoughts, Jack? All we have is thoughts. Be nice to get better ones. How does one get to the point where one can have thoughts without even a little measure of scunneration?
How's about the arrival of the perfect thought, the perfect beatitude? How long is it possible to sustain the perfect thought for?
The bliss obviously involves feeling. How can you make feelings constant? How can you get them to be perfect? Is it possible? Perfected feelings, or thought?
If it changes, I don't see how it can stay perfect.
Maybe we are just funged by being human beings.
Are we stuck with the variations, Jack? The variations between good and bad, the agreeable versus the disagreeable ... yes, we may be stuck with them. I'm not saying everyone is stuck with them, but it appears that without constant happiness we are stuck with them, you and I, Jack.
Are you telling me, Hotboy, that there will never be a point of satiation, the perfect pitch between the agreeable and the disagreeable, for as long as we will live? Yes, Jack! It looks like that to moi! There is no perfect sustainable point between the agreeable and the disagreeable, it is all variation.
And so we must choose a different path, and not hope that by meditating your socks off for ever that you can attain other than the great oceans of bliss. Because in your face, the basturns are still out there, and so are the untamed thoughts, and feelings, and all the multitudes of things ... I'd like to stop being a human being! When you're a kid it can be okay, and when you're young ... but just stopping it right now, that would be great.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
8 comments:
I say!
"Are you telling me, Hotboy, that there will never be a point of satiation, the perfect pitch between the agreeable and the disagreeable, for as long as we will live?"
Now you're talking! The perfect pitch, eh? One that doesn't keep too low, but has something for both the batsman and the bowler in it - something to keep everyone interested - a little pace and bounce, etc. Edgbaston - I'd have to say. As near to the perefct pitch as dammit.
This post has helped a lot.
MM III
Mingin'! Posting pissed due to the scunneration! Perfect nonsense! Hotboy
Perfection doesn't exist outside your mind.
I'm with you re stopping it right now - how about a duel with pistols at point blank? That could help both of us.
Albert? Too many afflictive emotions when you're wrestling with the nicotine dragon. And that's not even counting the grief, sorrow ... and no bob hope! I'm sitting in a cold, cold office with no one else here for miles. I could top myself right now no bother. You go first. That would help. Hotboy
M and A! Trying to hope for perfection in any kind of happiness ... well, that's just not going to happen. What's the point then? I suppose it's to do better. I might as well get a gun and shoot the lot of yous! Hotboy
I say!
Who wrote the following, which I feel is very apt in your circumstances. It even refer to your hut:
"If solid happiness we prize, within our breast this jewel lies, And they are fools who roam; the world has nothing to bestow, From our own selves our bliss must flow, And that dear hut-our home."
MM III
Mingin'! What a wonderful poum! Who wrote that? What a guy! Or guyess! Are women guys as well. Have we got that old? Dearie me! HOtboy
Mingin'! Milton.Anyway, nice poum. I wonder if the author actually had a hut or not. HOtboy
Post a Comment