I get thrown on due assignments. The work has become stressful to me as there are no breaks like in
normal college, one class just comes right on the heels of the other. I know no one else attending the
school nor in my major though I think that might just serve as a distraction to success. I was kind of
a devotee of Ganesh and I still follow him on Facebook but I worry about success. I really do. A girl, just
a girl, drove me off of the meditation center by aggressively speaking to me about my belching. I have
acid reflux. I would happily give that I hadn't prepared very well for that night, Shivaratri as she would
have liked. I forgot about it and didn't have time to dress nicely. I thought it wouldn't matter. The center
looks like a neat freak went crazy with it and I often don't have time to even wash my clothes. I stayed
a little long and I think we just don't get along naturally. I'm not a Lynyrd Skynyrd fan as I think she
may well be. So, I can't even recite texts with her in my mind's eye as it were.
I think I had undiagnosed depression for may 20 years from the 70's the 90's relieve only by being
allowed Siddha Yoga and then to go to school to study some IT. People are backwards here and don't
believe in psychology but if the state will pay for some menial form of it they will go for it. That's how
I got to see a shrink at the Alachua County Mental Health Clinic in 1979. My association there was
very slow, 5 minutes every 2 weeks. It was a couple of years before I was able to see a counselor who
would even acknowledge there was a thing called meditation and God consciousness and I was allowed
some speaking to him for a while until he finally cut it short. The Siddha Meditation Center keeping moving
around in Gainesville, Florida sometimes completely hidden. It's founder Baba Muktananda died in 1982
and I am sorry if that's news to you. I used to think there was naturally a magazine associated with such
organizations but not so. There was one for a while called Siddha Path and that was closed after Baba
died and a new publication called DARSHAN created in 1988. My momma let me subscribe to that. I
subscribed to a video series by the same name and looked forward to every tape and magazine that
arrived at my door, always hungry for more but the center only convened 2 days a week for about an
hour and a half at each time. Sometimes there were Intensives and courses but they cost a lot of money
and all I had was what my mom lived on, a social security check that when she died in 2007 as bringing
her $1300 a month. How could I spend $500 on an Intensive. Why didn't I have a job. I felt intensely guilty
and I had no social attachments, no guys, no girl friends but it was better than in 1978 when those recesses
were at their maximum. It was liked the world had ended in 1978. In fact I even thought of myself as the
expected Avatar, the Messiah, Buddha, Imam Mahdi that was to come. Me, a lonely man living with his
mother and father in a rural Florida town. I fantasized that somehow this had to do with my father's dying.
My hated father, by my step-brother and step-sister, my aunt and uncle and I think even my mom but
sometimes excepting my real brother and his wife, stood in the way of my becoming the expected Buddha
or Christ's reappearance. When he died then all would be well. I lived with that fantasy through many
years of non-world as I would call it. No buddies, no activities. The mental health clinic was happy to give
me sleepers to avoid the truth, to avoid everything and I slept over 12 hours a day I will bet but of course
I had masturbation. I was a grown man and despite my religious reality I was into wild bisexual imaginings.
Always though those fantasies had been dashed to the ground by women I was lucky enough to bed, if you
will in the 70's.
I was real lonesome throughout the 80's with all kinds of idealistic views and no help on getting work. Finally
in the late 80's and early 90's I got a little serious. I took a writing course, a course in management
and supervision . I just wanted to build a resume because there was no cavalry to the rescue. Finally in
1992 my father did die. With that the bank book opened a little wider. I was allowed to use the car without
asking. Later mom actually gave me the car and gave up driving herself which depressed me. Mom was
a great light hearted woman and I loved the idea of her going to town, Gainesville, to get groceries. She
bought organic which cause some controversy in the conservative rural southern town of Melrose in which
we lived.
My involvement with Siddha Yoga seemed to lead my back to the world. I wanted cable TV. We hadn't had
any but the antenna, 2 or 3 stations. We had no VCR until I needed one to watch Gurumayi's videos in
the DARSHAN video series. I started watching baseball on ESPN and then I bought a computer in 1996. To
get e-mail. I thought I could e-mail the Master and get some of the difficulties I was having at the center
cleared up. Boy, was I wrong. She didn't even have a website much less an e-mail address. I spent hours
on the computer at political discussion boards like Mother Jones' Live Wire. I took community ed. classes
in making web sites. I loved html. People on the discussion boards got upset when I used it in my discussion
posts. When I talked about God consciousness, yoga and the like they treated me like I was involved in a
cult, like Applewhite's waiting for a spaces ship. They were dry political minds who counted it all as religion.
I found one friendly woman on the Live Wire discussion board who cared about my troubles. Her name was
toad woman. She was from around Baltimore, MD. Her brother was a veteran of Vietnam and had suffered
some traumatic events there and at home. And life went trudging along. Now money being needed for all
kinds of things computer instead of Siddha Yoga.
Ah, but life is so complicated.
normal college, one class just comes right on the heels of the other. I know no one else attending the
school nor in my major though I think that might just serve as a distraction to success. I was kind of
a devotee of Ganesh and I still follow him on Facebook but I worry about success. I really do. A girl, just
a girl, drove me off of the meditation center by aggressively speaking to me about my belching. I have
acid reflux. I would happily give that I hadn't prepared very well for that night, Shivaratri as she would
have liked. I forgot about it and didn't have time to dress nicely. I thought it wouldn't matter. The center
looks like a neat freak went crazy with it and I often don't have time to even wash my clothes. I stayed
a little long and I think we just don't get along naturally. I'm not a Lynyrd Skynyrd fan as I think she
may well be. So, I can't even recite texts with her in my mind's eye as it were.
I think I had undiagnosed depression for may 20 years from the 70's the 90's relieve only by being
allowed Siddha Yoga and then to go to school to study some IT. People are backwards here and don't
believe in psychology but if the state will pay for some menial form of it they will go for it. That's how
I got to see a shrink at the Alachua County Mental Health Clinic in 1979. My association there was
very slow, 5 minutes every 2 weeks. It was a couple of years before I was able to see a counselor who
would even acknowledge there was a thing called meditation and God consciousness and I was allowed
some speaking to him for a while until he finally cut it short. The Siddha Meditation Center keeping moving
around in Gainesville, Florida sometimes completely hidden. It's founder Baba Muktananda died in 1982
and I am sorry if that's news to you. I used to think there was naturally a magazine associated with such
organizations but not so. There was one for a while called Siddha Path and that was closed after Baba
died and a new publication called DARSHAN created in 1988. My momma let me subscribe to that. I
subscribed to a video series by the same name and looked forward to every tape and magazine that
arrived at my door, always hungry for more but the center only convened 2 days a week for about an
hour and a half at each time. Sometimes there were Intensives and courses but they cost a lot of money
and all I had was what my mom lived on, a social security check that when she died in 2007 as bringing
her $1300 a month. How could I spend $500 on an Intensive. Why didn't I have a job. I felt intensely guilty
and I had no social attachments, no guys, no girl friends but it was better than in 1978 when those recesses
were at their maximum. It was liked the world had ended in 1978. In fact I even thought of myself as the
expected Avatar, the Messiah, Buddha, Imam Mahdi that was to come. Me, a lonely man living with his
mother and father in a rural Florida town. I fantasized that somehow this had to do with my father's dying.
My hated father, by my step-brother and step-sister, my aunt and uncle and I think even my mom but
sometimes excepting my real brother and his wife, stood in the way of my becoming the expected Buddha
or Christ's reappearance. When he died then all would be well. I lived with that fantasy through many
years of non-world as I would call it. No buddies, no activities. The mental health clinic was happy to give
me sleepers to avoid the truth, to avoid everything and I slept over 12 hours a day I will bet but of course
I had masturbation. I was a grown man and despite my religious reality I was into wild bisexual imaginings.
Always though those fantasies had been dashed to the ground by women I was lucky enough to bed, if you
will in the 70's.
I was real lonesome throughout the 80's with all kinds of idealistic views and no help on getting work. Finally
in the late 80's and early 90's I got a little serious. I took a writing course, a course in management
and supervision . I just wanted to build a resume because there was no cavalry to the rescue. Finally in
1992 my father did die. With that the bank book opened a little wider. I was allowed to use the car without
asking. Later mom actually gave me the car and gave up driving herself which depressed me. Mom was
a great light hearted woman and I loved the idea of her going to town, Gainesville, to get groceries. She
bought organic which cause some controversy in the conservative rural southern town of Melrose in which
we lived.
My involvement with Siddha Yoga seemed to lead my back to the world. I wanted cable TV. We hadn't had
any but the antenna, 2 or 3 stations. We had no VCR until I needed one to watch Gurumayi's videos in
the DARSHAN video series. I started watching baseball on ESPN and then I bought a computer in 1996. To
get e-mail. I thought I could e-mail the Master and get some of the difficulties I was having at the center
cleared up. Boy, was I wrong. She didn't even have a website much less an e-mail address. I spent hours
on the computer at political discussion boards like Mother Jones' Live Wire. I took community ed. classes
in making web sites. I loved html. People on the discussion boards got upset when I used it in my discussion
posts. When I talked about God consciousness, yoga and the like they treated me like I was involved in a
cult, like Applewhite's waiting for a spaces ship. They were dry political minds who counted it all as religion.
I found one friendly woman on the Live Wire discussion board who cared about my troubles. Her name was
toad woman. She was from around Baltimore, MD. Her brother was a veteran of Vietnam and had suffered
some traumatic events there and at home. And life went trudging along. Now money being needed for all
kinds of things computer instead of Siddha Yoga.
Ah, but life is so complicated.
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