My dreams have become linear narratives of an aborigine girl doing her dreamtime walkabout. When I wake-up my dick is hard and all I have to do is write down my dreams into these blogs. My dreams are becoming organized into sequences with a connecting chorus and finale where I wake up with my biggest, hardest erection of the day. My dreams and my blog all revolve around an aborigine girl.
The Man Who Played Himself
This morning I did my incredible calisthenic workout in the park. I just wanted to get some of these dreamtime images up to meditate upon while I do my breakfast thing. It is like I am having breakfast with my mulatto muse. My life has been greatly inspired by the short story, “The Man Who Played Himself,” by Lew Welch. You can read it in Lew’s “Ring of Bone,” the collection of his writing that was so influential in my life.
Ring of Bone
For a number of years Welch showed his poetry only to close friends. With the emergence of the Beat movement, however, Welch’s friends Philip Whalen and Gary Snyder began receiving national attention. Welch’s desire to devote himself completely to his poetry was revived, and he soon became a part of the San Francisco poetry scene.
Every morning I eat the exact same breakfast. Three boiled brown eggs, Irish oatmeal with unsalted butter and half a grapefruit. The most important ingredient is adding a pinch of pink Himalayan salt to your boiling oatmeal water. Simple, high quality ingredients are the key to a happy life.
Upgrading to high quality salt can radically improve your life. The first time I ever cooked my transformational Irish oatmeal with Himalayan salt was for Paul Allen, obgyn and myself. We had just returned from New York where he got me into the half a grapefruit thing. It also marked my turning point of never eating Cheerio’s or any type of generic Toastee O’s. No more cold oats or cold gluten free serial for me after my advanced sex training by Dr. Allen. After living with him I permanently switched to hot Irish oatmeal every morning. As a result of my sexual intimacy training I am able to better engage with women.
There is No Such Thing as Dreamer’s Block
There is no such thing as writer’s block. That would be the same thing as saying that there is “thinker’s block.” Do the thoughts ever stop flowing through your cranium? No they probably do not. I am an advanced meditator and I still need to flush out my cranial blow-by valve with these blogs about my mulatto muse every morning. There is no such thing as dreamer’s block.