Today about eleven.
There is the evil, and the impressions on the flatheids, and the suffering, and sometimes there seems to be nothing else but that.
I watched a wonderful film last night, mainly about this joe called Serge Hovey, and how he loved, and loved, and loved, Robert Burns, and strange it was, and kind of wonderful, so it was. It was shown on an unironed curtain at the Samye Ling, and of course a wee tear came to my eyes when I heard Jean Repath singing Auld Lang Syne. http://www.we7.com/#/song/Jean-Redpath/Auld-Lang-Syne
Scotthishy stuff mixed with the Tibetan stuff.
Monet painted his garden. I must learn how to do that. Like, sit in the hut and then sit outside the hut. I never should have tried to write a book other than Alma Mater. I should have written it again and again and again. You change and it changes. All the rest is just a lot of making money, or not. So I'm going to live for a long time and become a painter. And all I've ever paint is the hut. I'll sit in the hut, or I'll paint the hut.
This would be perfect. Because nobody would care and neither would I. Spontaneous emotional singing in colour. Or black and white.Allah Akbar!
8 comments:
This is a good time in your life to take up something new.
Painting your hut could be a good pass time.
Marie! The new thing I'm going to take up is sobriety!! That'll be a change! Hotboy
You'll forgive me if I don't hold my breath on your ability to do that?
Gonna give up the Nicotine Dragon as well?
Marie! I've had one smoke in about six weeks! If it wasn't for the bad company I keep! Booze, tobacco, out! Pizza in! Hotboy
How come it's never the good company, like Albert, that runs off on you?
Rubs
Dave. Are you there? For all I know, maybe you'd be a good influence? Balancing Wilson, who apparently forces poor Hotters into evil ways.
Albert? Everyone I know is an occasion of sin. They all smoke and drink and no of them meditate!! Hotboy
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