The Lord YHVH Jesus is the controller of all the riches in the world. Ask him and he will give it to you for it says in Isaiah 45:3: ‘ I will give you the treasures of darkness and the secret riches of hiding places so that you may know that I am the Lord God of Israel who calls you by name’.
I had a good night sleep, woke in the morning refreshed. Had some hot tea made by niece. Today I feel very happy and contented. I read the horoscope and it says that I will get lottery gains. I watched the sun rise….so beautiful and tranquil and the sun a red glowing ball of orange. I saw poets gliding across the sky. Life is a musical poem. I am filled with so much gratitude for the Universe. I feel so thankful in my heart. I have realized my destiny in my life and that is to be a writer. I am lost in the abyss of words. I think a lot about my writer favorites like Kafka, Nietzsche and Derrida. What is the art of writing? It’s just to let the words flow. Writing is the marriage of the minds and hearts. The blog platform has honed up my writing skills. I think a lot about Nietzsche’s theory of art. Nietzsche said that art occurs when the Dionysian and the Apollonian elements merge. The Dionysian is the rhythm and the beat and the Apollonian is harmony and melody. Dionysian stands for ecstasy and altered states of consciousness, and the Apollonian stands for balance in the soul. I have bought some books to read. I am badly wanting to writer reviews of it. I am happy that in a month about 30 of my books are sold. I am badly wanting to make love …have a good fuck. My soul is a poet at heart. I hope today that I can win a windfall. My salary is very meager. I believe in the dictum of Jesus: BLESSED ARE THE MEEK: FOR THEY WILL INHERIT THE EARTH. My experiences with my lover Sheeba Johnson keeps cropping up in my memory. She is the girl I have first touch. Her skin was soft, soft as a Baby’s. The experience of kissing her was flowers blooming in a garden. She had beautiful legs and awesome breasts. She did not allow me to fuck her. Here in India there’s a story about the origin of Marijuana. The people complained to Shiva that they are not getting intoxicated and Shiva grew angry and plucked strands of his hair and threw it to the earth. And that’s how Marijuana was born. I live in the state of Kerala in India. Kerala is a tourist paradise, one of the 50 destinations to be visited as per the National Geographic. Kerala has tranquil backwaters where you can rent houseboats and cruise along. Kerala has also got virgin beaches and mystic gardens of tea and cloves. Kerala is also famous for the monsoon season. The leaf shaped state Kerala was born when God Parashurama threw his axe into the Arabian Sea. I invite all of you to come and visit Kerala and if you are interested, I could be your tourist guide. What is writing? Ego is the form of writing and style emanates from the body. Feelings are the core of expression. Writing is an art and heart. The sun blossomed in the sky as a beautiful poem. I am fed with the squabbles of my wife and my sisters. My sisters are a greedy lot. They are demanding more of my father’s property. The novel of writing is an art. Poems are concubines of lyric verses. I am thinking of Camus’ myth of the Sisyphus. Sisyphus is condemned by the Gods to roll a boulder all the way up hill only to find that it has rolled down. Sisyphus is forced to do this meaningless chore. Camus is pointing out to the absurdity of life. I beg to differ from Camus. I believe that in life there is a purpose. All beings are purposeists. Life has to be realized in the valuableization of meaning. Camus is right when he said that we have to authenticate ourselves to meaning. I agree with Sartre that there are three states of being: being in itself: being for itself: and being for others. Being in itself is a primary state of consciousness and being for it-self is a state leading to the satisfaction of the ego and being for others is being charitable. I am not getting any dreams these days and I wonder why? I don’t like to be plagued by angst. I am poet at heart, a novelist of the body and a philosopher of consciousness. I believe that being has three states: catharsis: angst: and ecstasy. Living in these states is a life of poetry. The philosopher Julia Kristeva has spoken about the semiotic and the symbolic texts. Semiotic texts lack grammar and punctuation and semiotic texts are found I music, drama, dance and streams of consciousness narratives. A symbolic text embodies a regular pattern and ideas are expressed coherently with grammar and punctuation. We come across symbolic texts in our every day walk of life. The flame of the forest is lit with a bouquet of flowers and it is a beautiful sight to see. I am thinking of the character Don Quixote. He is a postmodern character coping with the harsh reality of modern life. I am writing fictional philosophy. I write using epiphanies, tropes and ironies. I am happy that many of my books are being sold. The Summer Bumper Lottery draw is out with tickets and I have purchased the ticket: SC 333168. I hope to win the first prize. Yes I can buy an apartment, an SUV and also stay with my significant other and devote my whole life to writing. I dislike the taste of rum. I feel like vomiting when I taste it. I ache to have some good scotch. May the coming days be a financial bonanza for me. I hope that luck will favor me. Dew clung on to the grass as a jewel. The brook whispered verses of poetry. The sun smiled like a mystic bard. I live the life with poems in my heart.