I had to get out of the bath. Dring, Dring. They brought beer. I smoked and drank. I was back into Charles Bukowski. I started thinking about what I'd like to write about. This is how you sink down the chakras. Writing is like in the toilet. Before they left, I managed to tell them about the channels opening and the bliss and all that, but I know it only sounds like the noise of madness to them.
You've got to love the solitude. Not seeing folk makes you notice things. Solitude is very mindful. This is the bliss.This is the bliss. This is the bliss.
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