Weeds

Monday 10:55 p.m.
Does anyone out there have an O'Level in Botany?

The allotment is now awash in weeds. I do not know where these plants come from. I assume the seeds are wee tottie things you cannot see whilst digging. You have an aspect of dependent origination since the seed will need water and soil. From comments I had in previous years, it seems that the plant does not suck up the earth, but only water. It uses the minerals in the water to make itself. Is that it?

So what are weeds made of and why are they so big? Like how much mineral does it take to make the plant that big? Is it sucking carbon out of the water .... I know nothing at all about plants. I assume there has been just a very little amount from the earth to make this really quite a big thing when you consider that you can't even see the seed. I know it's getting energy from the sun. Photosynthesis.

The more you look at plants with all your ignorance of botany, the more amazing they become.

They must be ninety odd percent water.

So you pull up the weed and cover it up in the ground. Has the soil gained anything here, or has it just been equalised somehow? Has the plant added something that wasn't there before, from the sun and the water? I don't know what to do with the weeds. I usually just let them grow. Nobody grows weeds like me. I must be doing something wrong. Any suggestions?

The photies were taken at the bus stop this morning. Nice day.

The Last Appointment!

Monday 12:30 a.m.
It was in a restaurant. I didn't have my credit cards on me, but had about forty five quid. I did not know if that would be enough. I was told it was for free, but the folk there didn't need it to be for free, and so no one mentioned it. The evil bourgeois. I went into a discrete half lotus and told the waiter I was on a fast, and he ran away. That was good. I know how to handle being in restaurants now.

I don't want to have an appointment ever again. I go there and I hate it and I get drunk so I can escape, and then I regret the whole sorry business. What is the point of flatheids? I had to leave something approaching ecstasy for this. I got back here about seven. Glad to say that I missed the last three hours. I think I gave up memory after about three big glasses of the collapso that everyone was throwing down their necks. Then I slept till eleven and then the Domestic Bliss came back home.

There was a time when I didn't like hanging around with straights. Straights in those days were people who didn't take drugs. Really boring people. But, like in the Rhinoceros play by Ionesco, I think, they all started turning into straights. In the play everyone turns into a rhinoceros. Exactly the same process. Except now they're all flatheids! Too dumb to meditate. God preserve us from the flatheids!

I had a wee lie down on the couch before writing this post. The bliss is still there. You just have to go in and look for it. Or look at it.

This time last year I was dreading going on holiday for a whole week of flatheids and, at least, I don't have that in front of me now. I have no more appointments to dread. Today has been a complete waste of part of my wonderful life. That's it! Fung off, flatheids!

Very Early Sunday Morning!

Sunday 00:20 p.m.
I ran to Costorphine and up yon great big hill when I got back from Bellshill today. One hour and forty five minutes. That's five minutes faster than the last time I did that run. Couldn't have been slower.

I got into the bath at half six and got out of it at half eight. I was most surprised at how long I'd been in the bath. I think I might have dozed off, Jack. Crashed out in the bath for an hour anyway. Mr Fit.

I noticed I was feeling calm on the train to Bellshill. I've noticed this calmness a couple of times recently and it's made me realise I'm not usually calm at all. Calm is like a drug. It coats you. There is not much to feel anxious about. It's as if the underlying anxiety has diminished for a bit. And you can tell the difference.

So I didn't get down to the meditations till half nine. Perfect timing. Maybe a quarter of an hour before sunset.

I have never felt as much bliss as I have over the last couple of days. If you look at the analogy of channels opening, it seems that they've become open, but they haven't. They've maybe opened a wee bit. Then over the last few days they've opened a bit more. Who knows what it would be like if they were really open!

Of course, you get up and the bliss just immediately goes away. And the bliss isn't really much like a drug at all. You don't have to go back for more, or even want to. This makes it a bit peculiar. There was hardly any heat in all this. I don't understand this heat business at all.

It's hard to describe how the bliss could be any blissier than I've said before. There was a feeling of quite an amount of force in the bliss when it was full on tonight. And a background hum like the ones you get in hydro-electric power stations where the hum is all you hear of the amazing power being generated under the shiny outer casings. It makes you think of power.

It's much more fun blogging when you are pissed. I'm away to bed.

Wonderful Friday!

Friday 1:34 p.m.
Yesterday, when I was having some couch time in the afternoon, it seemed as if my body was swimming in ecstasy; slipping and sliding. I didn't want to open my eyes and get up then. Falling into a doze once more would have been fine because I knew the bliss would be there when I came to. Then the door bell rang.

I saw the pizzaman yesterday and the Domestic Bliss was in and out of the house all day and evening (well, she does live here!), and that was very nice, but I didn't think I'd put in enough on my own time. So I cancelled today. Tomorrow is the new today.

I've just finished my third meditation and all of them have been brilliant, despite the fact that I was puffing the magic dragon between sits. Boom, Shiva.

I was going to go for a long run around three, but I may sit on. The Karmapa show is supposed to be on the web at seven tonight. I bet it aint! But it would be great if it was.

There wasn't much heat this morning though some did come in during the third meditation. But plenty has been going on! Mainly, I've been trying to concentrate on the navel chakra symbol. When I've been moving the attention up the mid-brain chakra ... this has been much better than ever. Thick, thick blissiness!

9:15 p.m.
Of course, the Karmapa's webcast didn't happen. Methinks some skullduggery is afoot here.

I'm going to leave of the meditations there. The consiglieri came to see me for a hour and a bit, and I went to the shops for five minutes. Apart from that, it's be meditating just about all day. No running, no bugger all.

These have obviously been the best meditations I can remember, at least for the advancement of the effects of the vase breathing. Not much heat though. It is still light here yet ... I'm going to have three beers now and watch the second part of The Scheme on the BBC Iplayer. The first part is probably one of the best or worst things BBC Scotland has ever done. But it's been a great day for the juju!!

Bliss Diary!

Thursday 12:30 p.m.
Sometimes you're just getting there when you have to stop. The second sitting of the morning was nearly an hour and a half, but sore legs stopped play. My concentration wasn't as good as it could have been, but loads of the bliss, especially towards the end. I coughed at one point when trying suck in a big breath and that seemed to kick start the heat somehow. Not much heat though tons of bliss!!

Can you see any obstacles coming up over the weekend, Hotboy? Well, Jack, it looks as if I should have the wind at my back. The Domestic Bliss is going out of town for the weekend and I only have one appointment. I hate having anything lined up, but this one is a bit special. The widow of my friend who was cremated in Bali last summer is putting up some money so his pals can have a drink on him this Sunday lunchtime. If ever there was an open grave ... but he was a special kind of a guy, and I'll be meeting up with the folk we did a house swop with twenty years ago, etc.

"He's never early. He's always late. The first thing you learn is your always gotta wait." The inimitable Lou.

I'm going to score this afternoon. I have always loved scoring. One of my favourite things!!

7:50 p.m.
I can't connect to the Karmapa broadcast. I think I'll just go into the lobby and do the bliss instead.

10:00 p.m.
The photie of the hut was taken when I'd stopped meditating, realising that a storm was blowing in. Twenty wonderful minutes with eyes shut, sun bathing in the bliss, then it got a bit dark quite quickly, and blowy. There were hailstones before I got home. Then the skies opened. Hurrah! This is a brilliant place to live, so it is. None this opening up your curtains in the morning and saying,"Not another bloody beautiful sunny day!" We get a wee bit of drama. Thank god I don't live in Kansas. You can get too much drama. Wee hailstones. Moderation in all things.

Karmapa

Thursday 9:30 a.m.
The Karmapa is broadcasting on the internet at 7 p.m. tonight British time. Hurrah!

Purification!

Wednesday 11:20 p.m.
Sorry about the double photie again! It's a lavender bush. The apple blossom has gone now. The rhubarb is doing well. I've just burnt it in the pot. It came home with some leeks which had over-wintered, and were really neglected and left too long.

On the web, I was reading about this boy who walked off the park when he was sixteen. Can't remember his name. Another swami joe. So he gets this loss of "false" sense of self and goes to this sacred mountain and sits there. His false sense of self has gone and it's not coming back. I lost it once for a few seconds, but this boy just lost it. And it wasn't coming back. So he goes to the sacred mountain and just sits there. There's a name for this kind of samahdi, but I can't remember what it is. Nava... something. Anyway, he's just sitting there doing this further on state from ra bliss for years. Things start eating him as he sits there, but I don't think you'd notice in that state.

Later on, he has the ashram as these boys do, and when other joes ask him about how to temper desires, he says you've got to lose the false sense of self or they will arise again somehow. Like, you can get rid of them for a bit, but they will spring back as soon as you lose attention, or stop trying, or whatnot.

Hotboy, some folk really don't seem to have strong desires. They just go around being nice all the time. This is true, Jack, as far as we can observe. They don't drink too much, or do anything too much. I take my hat off to them. I wish I was one of those nice people. Unfortunately, I am not very good at that, whatever it is that makes them not too desirous, and quite nice. I'd like to apologise to all the nice people out there and say I would like to be just like them. You are what everyone should aspire to. The opposite of the Daleks.

I will get paid tomorrow. I will change addictions from the home brew, the last of which I will throw down the sink tonight, to soapbar, which is not a very good bit of bob hope at all really. But it's a million times better than home brew!

The lama said I should talk to him again when I had a problem! What a laugh! How many problems could I list? Apart from the bliss and the heat and the attempts to emanate as a deity, I've got bugger all but problems! The whole of moi is one big problem!

My credit card debt has disappeared. Somebody stuck a grand into that debt and now there is only about 93 quid to pay off!

Whoever you are, I have always relied on the kindness of strangers. Tennessee Williams. The door.

Crows and Foxes!

Monday 10:00 p.m.
Last year a wee crow fell out of its nest and was hopping about in the road between the trees in the park. Big crows swooped down on anyone who went near it. As I walked down from the allotment passed this scene, I had a wish to get the wee crow and take it to the hut where I could look after it. I thought the foxes would get it when it grew dark. I thought they'd get it in the hut as well, what with the holes in the wall.

A couple of years ago, I visited my brother Grizzly, who lives surrounded by trees, and he went to his window and called for the raven. He'd hand reared this when it fell out of its tree. Amazed I was when this raven flew up and landed on the window sill, and came inside. He gave it a plate of cornflakes. Hard to imagine anything more black and beautiful and more incongruous than that bird eating cornflakes in his living room.

Konrad Lorenz studied jackdaws. He said when you fell out with one jackdaw, you fell out with all the jackdaws. They told on you to all their pals.

It was easy to tell where the fox was tonight in the allotments because, wherever it went, a crow followed close behind and made a racket. Every creature great and small was going to know something was afoot. That's how I got the photies.

I felt a bit guilty about not doing something about the wee crow last year. The big crows would swoop, but I don't think they'd actually hit you, or claw you on the way passed. Now that I've got the hut in better shape I could hand rear one this year.

When Grizzly eventually took the raven out to fly about, all the other ravens gathered round and gave it support, and accepted it back into their group. A friend of the ravens forever would Grizzly be after that.

Later!

Sunday 11:43 p.m.
On Thursday night, Friday night, and Saturday night, I had flatheids to attend to. This is far too many flatheids. Being with the Domestic Bliss on Friday was alright ... fair play to the Domestic Bliss, but tonight was the first evening for ages when I could just go and investigate the bliss. You want to be investigating the bliss when the day turns to darkness.

I am no use to flatheids. People who stop me meditating, including moi, do not excite my compassion. If I just meditated a lot more, then I could deal with the flatheids a lot better. The first noble truth is the truth of frustration. I got the evening meditation together tonight, but this is Sunday. Had I got it together on Thursday, the whole weekend would have been much better. I was a bit surprised by how calm I felt this morning. So I knew I had not been calm before. Basturns! I had great meditations in the allotment this evening, but ... I'm sorry for the too dumb to meditate and I give in, but I'm not any way advanced enough in this malarkey for that not to affect moi. Flatheids are like an infection. The more you have to deal with flatheids, the more flatheided you become.

The air was sometimes thick with dandelion seeds as the old, toothless one and I ran along the cycle paths of North Edinburgh. I'd never seen the like before. We ran for forty five minutes, or padded along, and then turned back. The hour and a half of jogging takes three hours out of the day. There is an hour in the bath afterwards. Then there is a half hour lying on the couch dozing off and waiting to see if you will ever be able to walk and talk again. Then you start sitting in the lobby again.

I'd just arrived at the mid-brain chakra, and so far it had taken about six hours to get there, when the Domestic Bliss came back home and I had to stop.

I was sitting in the allotment by nine o clock. Back to the post for holding up the raspberries, the allotment photies were taken at ten o clock. The bus stop photies were taken on the way to the Traverse last night. There were no open graves to fall into last night. Hurrah!

I left the allotment tonight at half ten. You folk from Chilly Jockoland who are now living in deserts might remember that it's almost still light then at this time of year. Some of the birds, who had been talking to each other throughout, were still chattering away at half ten. The auld wummin in the allotment at my back told me once she didn't want to attract too much attention because she was often in the allotment late at night. She has a wee drink. She enjoys the sitting there in another kind of way. I think I should silently offer her my protection since I expect to be sitting with my back to her quite a lot this summer. God is good! God is great! God is nothing like moi!

This wonderful day!

Sunday 11:10 a.m.
The best thing was when the old, toothless one put back our run from one till three p.m. That gives me time to do everything before then because I don't expect to be in much of a state to do much afterwards! By everything, I mean the odd dog pose, head stand, bit of tai chi, and about four hours on the cushion. There's no rush now. There's no one in either since the Domestic Bliss was at her mother's last night.

I'm really enjoying feeling calm this morning. You cannot over-rate feeling calm. It's only this morning when I'm feeling quite calm that I realise I haven't been all that calm up till now. Too many flatheids! Too many appointments! Little things on your mind that you don't even know are on your mind.

So far I've done an hour and a half, the first meditation. That took me up to the Kyrie Eleison Christe Eleisons, and the bit when I ask for help for all the dead people I know. The next bit is when you die and arise as a light being. I know this is going to be great this morning!

Why do I have all the fun, Jack? It's because you meditate, Hotboy! Why do the flatheids give off all that moaning and groaning? Because they do not meditate, Hotboy! It's a simple life, so it is! Oh, ra bliss, ra bliss, ra bliss!

1:05 p.m.
Felt the heat coming on during that meditation, but not during the first one.

3 p.m.
The run was put back till four, and I did another hour just then in the lobby after going out for some messages apres luncho. Concentration not quite as good as in the morning I felt like dozing off a few times. Came on strong at the end, but no such much puffings of heat. I'll do some more and await the phone call to tell me of the approach of the old, toothless one. It's a hot day for a run!!

Allotment photies

Saturday 6:35 p.m.
The night photies aren't supposed to be there! The other ones were taken today. Apart from the tatties photie, that's what you can see from where I was sitting to meditate in front of the hut door. You can kind of hide there, especially if you're wearing shades and the wide brimmed, Australian hat. It was boling hot today. Peely wally legs everywhere. The meditations were fabulous today and I've done nothing else really since the back of ten this morning. I'm just about to get ready to go to the Traverse. I've got twenty pounds on me so I told the person I'm going with not to expect to be falling out of one of them bicycle rickshaw things at half two in the morning, but you never know. Once more into the breach, dear friends!

Bliss diary resume!

Saturday 00:23 a.m.
To get on with this meditation malarkey, it is much easier to get a gun and shooty shooty all the flatheided basturns that come near you. But some folk might say this is not compassionate. On the other hand, I do not think it is compassionate to walk around with a flat heid, with your head stuck up your arse and emanating as some kind of pond life moron. And stand there in front of moi exciting my compassion when I'd much rather just tell you to fung off. This is maybe not so true with your old relatives.

So I cycled down from Shotts today and landed into the good mother's. It took me a half hour on the bike. Then I cycled to Bellshill and the auld maw was great. I got an hour meditating in her bedroom whilst some Tibetan boy was going on about the bardo. What a way to spend the afternoon! Sitting with someone over ninety listening to the boy talking about death.

And what shall we do, Hotboy, when old age and death come rolling in? Just fung off and die, Jack! Just fung off and die!

So I'm too old and fat for this cycling malarkey. Like, after an hour and ten minutes on the bike, with one close death experience - the power relationship is wonderful. This motor is heading straight at me on a roundabout in Motherwell and I brake, twist, and I'm away, half glancing at the horrified face of the motorist. You see, you're free on a bike because you cannot kill anyone, only be killed - after this amount of cycling I'm half dead and would like to go to sleep. This makes concentrating on anything a bit difficult. I just would like to lie down for a bit.

But I feel once again that I am on the cusp on something wonderful with this juju as long as I can get the time on the cushion in.

I got a phone call from the consiglieri on Thursday night and he came down for a wee visit. I'm not going to say no to the consiglieri.

You cannot explain to the flatheids what you are missing by having to sit with them because they do not get the bliss, far less developments of the bliss, the ones you are missing by sitting there having what's called a good time with them. But I did have a good time and it is not appropriate to tell the consiglieri to fung off just now.

The meditations through the day yesterday were fantastic and I knew if I could just get through the evening and was still in there when it grew dark ... but it was not to be. It's not all about moi, though why shouldn't it be when the too dumb to meditate are always going to be too dumb to meditate?

He's the worst agent in the world, by the way. I think I might be the worst writer, so there is an appropriateness in this somehow.

It's a building block thing. You miss having the wonderful Thursday all to yourself and ... you just haven't done your best to do what has to be done.

The best thing on the telly, if you're going to sit there in a lotus with the noise blockers on and the eyes closed, is a foreign language film. I don't speak any foreign languages and they're usually quiet since they are so cheap. No helicopters, no big explosions. One of the worst things was what was on tonight. Sons of Anarchy. HBO. Actually, if I had the time I'd have probably wanted to watch it. But I don't watch much telly. How are you ever going to fly about the place is you spend your time watching stuff on the telly? Anyway, this DVD has lots of explosions and a great soundtrack and meaty punchings and is exactly what you don't want on the telly when you're trying to keep company with the Domestic Bliss whilst doing the vase breathing and whatnot. After that, there's a BBC Four show about a brilliant rock band ...

Despite it all, I was getting some bliss and even some heat. But no where near what I could and should be getting.

The Domestic Bliss is going to be out of town tomorrow evening, but somehow I have got a date with Poisonous. I forced him to agree to go to five small opera things at the Traverse tomorrow night after the DM told me she'd these tickets and would I like ... No, I wouldn't! I should phone up Poisonous tomorrow and tell him to fung off. We used to take quite interesting drugs together, but the last time I saw him for a night out, I ended up falling down and hurting myself. That's another reason why the decent drugs should all be legalised. When you are old, you don't network, you're not in a scene, and what's left? The legal drugs! The totally accessible alcohol! Basturns!

But they are not so fortunate as you are, Hotboy. No, Jack, this is always correct. These flatheided basturns are not as fortunate as moi, but that's not my fault. Just one interaction a week with any of these too dumb to meditate bourgeois basturns would be quite enough.

Despite all this, I am quite good humoured as I head off for beddy-bys because this juju is really working, so it is. So it is! What a fortunate creature I am, I am! What a fortunate creature I am.

I joined facebook to trace a relative. The upside down photie is moi! There's a photie of the auld maw from up above her bed and from about seventy odd years ago. And a before and after sky shot from the allotment this evening - between 8:40p.m. and 9:40 p.m. And some weird blue flower on the way out. God is great! Allah Akbar!

Debriefing!

Thursday 6: 15 p.m.
I was still always falling down during this time, and I would always say, before falling, "I'm about to fall down", and almost nobody, nobody ever caught me. Tennessee Williams. The door.

A fabulous sentence, don't you think, Jack?

I found a fag in my shirt pocket on Tuesday morning and wondered how it got there. But no mysterious bruises, nothing like that. I had all my fingers and toes, but emailed Beef McDuck to find out about the end of Monday evening. Apparently, I bolted for a taxi when we were on the way to the pub, and escaped the copious amounts of whisky Beef and Froggy were heading for. It seems they started, in a friendly way, to punch each others ribs in the bar to see how good they might be at that. Beef said his ribs the next day were fine, but his hands and wrists were a bit sore. There's three inches of blubber on Beef before you get near his ribs, so God knows how Froggy's ribs felt the next day as he carted the wife and wanes back to Froggieland.

One of the photies taken on this glorious afternoon is of the gooseberries starting to appear already. You get a lollipop if you can say what the other plant is. I'll give you a clue. It's like making a lot of money.

Just out of the bath after doing the short Craigcrook/Ravelstone Dykes run.

The bliss has been exceptional today. I may blog about it later.

Fox

Tuesday 10:50 p.m.
There was an in-service thing at the jobbie which meant that I couldn't meditate all day. What a waste of blisstime! And despite falling into an open grave last night, I was fabulously cheerful on wakening up this morning due to the amazingly blissful yesterday.

Tonight I went up to the allotment to meditate. The two sky photies were taken from the spot beside the post holding up the raspberry bushes. Before and after shots. I took the other one because you can get three photies in a message from the phone.

I sat down at ten to eight and got up just before nine. Gazing at the next door neighbour's apple blossoms. Quite quickly, of course, they stop looking like apple blossoms. I was sitting on the tree section in the easy posture and I could have sat gazing at the apple blossoms for a lot longer, but a fox came walking down the middle of the allotment and I glanced round. It was only nine feet away. I tried to get a photie, but wasn't fast enough. Unusual things happen when you sit still.

There was the nice wummin in the allotment at my back. They're all going to have to get used to me just sitting. Modelling for flatheids. She said she saw the fox trying to get at something under the hut the other night. Scrabbling. For rats, no doubt!

Whee!

Monday 6:20 p.m.
I wish everyone could be living the wonderful life I live! So I do!

I left the sitting here and went up to paint the hut at half three. This involved five minutes painting and two sittings. You don't want to work too hard, Jack. You really don't. More of a Tom Sawyer kind of paint job!

It's the sittings I wanted to talk about, but what can I say!? Blistering balloonings of bliss! I think something is supposed to enter, then stabilise, then eventually dissolve. Of course all this is very subjective and if I can't describe it, I don't see how anyone else can. What can I say? Oh, ra bliss, ra bliss, ra bliss has progressed once more. Hurrah!

Now I have to go and visit the McDucks. Thank God they keep spare livers in the fridge and a dialysis machine round the back!

Trying!

Sunday 11:58 p.m.
As usual, I've been trying and trying and trying over the last few days. This can't be right, Jack. You should be being and not trying all the time. So I've decided to stop trying after this summer. Just give up. I'll give up after trying a bit harder than I've been trying just now. Maybe this summer I will go to the hut and sit for a wee bit and then, after that, aspire to normality. I feel like Pinocchio just now. I just want to be a normal boy. I can't even converse with flatheids properly. I say to the ultramarathon boy today as we are jogging along that I'm getting fat because I meditate so much. I meditate for about forty hours a week. Say that to a flatheid and there's nothing the flatheid can say back to you really.

I think he must stay on Ravelstone Dykes. He said he'd seen me going passed the first time round. He's probably seen me with my funny hat jogging away there and thinks that because I've got a funny hat on, I probably jog forever like him, or at least I'm a bit eccentric. No, no, no! I'm only jogging because I'm getting to be a fat basturn due to sitting on my backside all the time. Talk about eccentric?! You want to talk about being eccentric?

It's all got to stop, Jack! What about ra bliss then, Hotboy? Obviously, ra bliss will never leave moi! Not now, I don't think so. How did you get ra bliss then, Hotboy? I got it by trying and trying and trying, Jack. So now you want to stop trying? I just want to be happy, Jack. You can try too hard.

I think the way to stop trying is to try really, really hard, and then stop.

Are you, or are you not a fortunate creature, Hotboy? Jack, of all the creatures that have ever been, I am surely one of the most fortunate. And I am already the happiest joe that I know. And why is that, Hotboy? I have no idea. I am so fortunate and I don't even know why I am so fortunate. What a fortunate creature I am, I am! What a fortunate creature I am!

An inspiration so he was!

Sunday 6:00 p.m.
The cherry blossom is past its best, petals strewn over the pavements as I jogged along Ravelstone Dykes Road on my way to the mother of all hills, the Clermiston Road, down in Costorphine. On the way home, back down Ravelstone Dykes again, I was joined by another runner. In all the years ... this has never happened before.

He was called Keith Hughes, an Aussie from Perth. He was out for a recovery run after running an ultramarathon yesterday. That's 55 miles. In a couple of weeks he'll be running the West Highland Way, which is a run of 95 miles. It takes about twenty four hours.

A lot of folk might exclaim: 95 miles!? I don't believe that!! Amazing what you can get your body to do, Jack, so it is.

I think he said he was fifty years old.

I was out jogging for about one hour forty minutes, a mere bagatelle!

Midnight

Saturday 11:58 p.m.
The Domestic Bliss put in the cabbages and brussel sprouts this evening while I sat with my face to the sun doing the bliss. Going to bed sober and straight tonight, Jack. Felt the benefit of a wonderful Thursday all day today. Allah Akbar!

Who are you?

Saturday 10:21 a.m.
Like the moon reflected on water, we are dependently arisen as a valid presence able to collect karma and suffer the retributions. I think that's something like the way it's supposed to go, Jack.

Last year I was with Jerry's family and looked over at his son. His son looks more like Jerry now than Jerry does. Jerry looks like some old, wrinkly guy. Yesterday I saw the deid brother's son and now he's almost the spitting image.

We go around thinking we're independent individuals completely responsible for our own narratives, but that's only half of it surely, Jack. When you're in a big family, it seems you're just collections of bits of other folk, the vast majority of whom are dead.

I was talking to my good mother yesterday about folk with dementia. Who are you when you can't remember who you are or who anyone else is? Do you exist as a person merely in the memories of other folk like when you are dead?

I took the nazi bike on the train and cycled from Shotts to Newmains. Then I cycled from Newmains to Bellshill. Froggy McDuck admired the bike and knew what the gears were called. PC McDuck looked like his dad, but his dad died from injuries sustained when he fell out of the loft drunk, and PC doesn't drink, so he might have improved the brand there.

I felt reassured by speaking to the good mother. She doesn't want me to spend Thursday and Friday night in Newmains, but when she feels confident about going out for luncho with her pals on Friday afternoon again, I will watch the house. And I'll hide the bike round the back. And if the burglars call again, I will kill them.

In a previous life, the Buddha killed a baddie to stop him killing other folk and suffering the results thereof, so killing the burglars might be a good thing to do for them. You've just got to get your motivation right as you sneak up and hit them over the head with a hammer. Also, I'd get some time in solitary confinement, especially since my deid brother was a prison officer.

This boy's got the right idea, but it's going to cost him £18,000. Jail's for free.

The bike photie was taken in Bellshill. Two others were taken on a walk around the beautiful, wonderful city last night. One's a rogue.