To be Happy!

Sunday 10:00 p.m.
Sometimes I have felt the spontaneous smiling face appear. Not recently. The spontaneous smiling face has always arisen in the times, too few, when I did not drink or consume anything other than a cannybliss yogurt.

This last while has not been a good time for moi. Maybe we are talking about this year. The Beer Monster arising and dancing the dance of death with the Nicotine Dragon, and the alternating between these two, means that the spontaneous smiling face has been replaced by the crabbit basturn more often than not.

However, I must say that I do love smoking dope. Joints. When I am gorging myself on cannabis resin, I am a very happy joe. It really suits me. But there is no middle way with this, it seems. Not just now. I will die of horribleness if I get back into nicotine because my lungs are too old. My old man died from lack of breath and this is not an easy way to go.

If I had more money, I could make better choices. If I was drinking alcohol, I could drink better alcohol, and have less nasty repercussions. I probably wouldn't drink that much if I had the money to keep a constant supply of dope.

Purification and accumulation.

I don't like saying no to people. Unfortunately, all the folk I know are complete flatheids. And all of them smoke. Only about twenty five percent of the population smoke now, I think, and I know all of them!

Even as I stumblebum around and have these deep problems with the non-meditaional times, the meditations continue ... even though my concentration gets funged up by my awful behaviour ... to increase and increase and increase.

What do you want, Hotboy? I want serenity, Jack. I want completion, satiation, and contentment. I don't want to want anything. Allah Akbar!

Fortunately, as I realised when reading the bit of the re-write yesterday, I am a fabulously brilliant writer. Not here, Jack, but I am. I haven't cared about that really because it has come quite easily. Trying to become a buddha is not fung easy!! Now, I can see why the basturns in the BBC wouldn't speak to me after I walked off the park. Because some cats got it and some cats aint! So this book I'm re-writing is going to land on the money. Just at the time when it won't stick my head any further up my bum. I'm going to be cool. It will not feed my ego.

I'd like to thank all the supporting deities for getting me here, especially the old, toothless one and the Domestic Bliss. Allah Akbar! Allah Akbar! Allah Akbar!