NOW IT IS TURDS-DAY AGIN
Woke up this morning with the blues in my mind and I escaped into that philosophical arena that wakes a person up in red-eyed realities.
I looked out at the world of "Being" as "Being". I embraced the earth and the wind and the fire and the air. I then searched for the water. But none was to be found.
So I settled for a beer or two.
I found myself today in an almost predisposed position with the monastic desert .
Fuck that for a lark I said to me sen. I'll av another one.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
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A friend spent Easter in solitary meditation at the remote Saharan Oasis of Siwa, where Alexander the Great consulted the Oracle.
A natural habitat for Zola the Soothsayer?
Thus Spake Zolathrustra!
Have another beer.
No thrusting in The Fortress.
I am in the nightmares of return again.
Witness day I must travel to this sacred UK.
But I am profane in spirit.
Bury me at sea I say because I taste better that way for the ancestors.
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