Rem Analytical Meditations!

Friday 12:42 p.m.
The Hotboy project will never be anything other than a work in (slow!) progress, but practising meditation is supposed to make you happier. If you are a Hotboy Madyamika and you can surf the oceans of bliss, at least sometimes, well, you're not going to get much happier than that, at least in those moments.

As you stumblebum towards breathlessness and ecstasy, it could be said you are happier than when you are in mere bliss, but this equates happiness with experiencing wonderful sensations. Anyway, it's quite possible to resume normal life and be very quickly once more the greetin', crabbit faced basturn of yore.

Analytical meditations are supposed to help you with this; help you become more happy in your grotesque bourgeois version of existence, and so they will!

Does all this take forever, Hotboy? I think, Jack, that it probably takes the whole of your life. But if you'd rather live like a self satisfied moron; if you'd rather look for sweeties to suck; if you think it's okay to continue as a greetin' faced, crabbit basturn, just keep your head up your backside. You'll have plenty of company.

Once the lama told me, when I was asking him about the great vajrayana, that I'd get "everything" from calming meditations. I had my ten seconds of non-self and emptiness before I knew anything about analytical meditations.

I thought it was just thinking about stuff and concentrating on that kind of thing, whereas I was looking to widen the gap between thoughts. The sweeties I was looking for didn't seem to be in thoughts as such.

Ultimately, losing your false sense of self is what is going to make you happy, but this is probably not going to be easy, or happen overnight. Of course, it might be for some lucky basturns. For the rest of us, it seems to me that the more you think about this "false sense of self", which is supposed to be what is causing the suffering, the more difficult losing it seems to be.

I was going through this routine one day of denying the existence of an "I" in the body, senses, perceptions, consciousness and mental formations, which include ideations and volitional impulses, when it struck me that it was in everything I looked at. I was trying to narrow this down to mental formations, thoughts, but it dawned on me that this false sense of self was everywhere, in everything I looked at, totally bedded down in my perceptions. If the computery thing seems separate from you, I think that's because of your false sense of self.

The mind game is the only game in town.

When I had the ten seconds of non-self and emptiness, the false sense of self was gone, but it came back. At least, this was a huge incentive to keep meditating, but you want this false sense of self to fung off eventually and, hopefully, not be there at all. Then you will have serenity, contentment, satiation and true happiness.

As they say, you might not be inducing retributions to your own wee self, since at last it has gone, and then you can do what you like as long as your motivation is sound, which it should be since great compassion for the flatheids is supposed to accompany this transformation of perspective. Bring on the dancing girls, beer, drugs!

I wish sometimes I'd forced the kiddo to meditate. There's no reason why you can't get your mind sorted by the time you're thirty odds, which is when I started. What a great life you could have after that!

I had a most exhilerating cycle in the wind and rain back from visiting Shiva last night. He's off the fags, so it's reefer madness all the way. Sometimes I'm concerned about the kiddo being a flatheid all her life like everybody else, but last night I got a full face image of her in my head. It's a big smiling baw heid. Then it interchanged with the face of the lama I used in my meditations, then went back to her. I thought: she looks a bit Tibetan! The wee fat baldy guy has a big smiling baw heid. It was as if all the accumulations of worriedness about her just disappeared. That kind of relief makes you more happy.

The first full day I get to myself is Monday. Be nice to keep down the collateral damage to the nervous system over the next couple of days. The only real difficulty is tonight. I suspect I'll be up shit creek without a paddle as soon as Froggy McDuck rings the doorbell!