I have no answers. I'm getting no inspiration. But I refuse to feel pressured. So what I think I have to do is at least go and pretend I'm gonna do it. If I can't do it, I won't know it if I don't at least go. I should've done a dress rehearsal last night.
I have to remember all that I've been writing. I don't want to come back because I couldn't do it in a moment, and be hit with the tsunami of all I've been realizing through the years pointing me to that moment.
So I'm gonna at least go out there and see what I decide when I get there. Besides, we've got a week of nice weather ahead, so if it takes a string of going there and coming back to fine-tune and figure out what I really want to do, so be it. What a pain in the ass I am. I just need to find my truth now. Ish.
Clean the slate, try to clear my mind
Find a way to start over from the star, the starting line
Leave behind what I've built thus far
Finally resolved to end this game of love charades, back to the cave
And pull out the plug from the VCR and the TV screen
Leave my socks on the sand below the stars
And look around to see where the fires are
The sound of waves plead for me
The swim that never ends begins here on the beach
Clean the slate, clear my mind
Sound of waves, leave behind
Hold my breath, close my eyes
The shock of the first chill will only last until morning
Opting out, cash in my dying deed
It's just a simple trade off between distinct realities
Body parts, functions and feelings
Everything reeling and fading out
From here and now, and I know how to pull out the plug
Watch the water go 'round and down the drain
Don't look back, don't think of crying now
With a ziplock bag around my neck to weigh me down
All I love is here with me
The stars, the sound, a god, and all my memories
Running start, take a dive
No one here gets out alive
Racing back my whole life
Flashing before my eyes for weeks it's been driving me crazy
I want to find a way to trust another lie
Something romantic that could be believed and I
Keep in the feeling that's rotting me from inside
She'll rest in peace with the newly deceased and cross my mind
Sometimes I think this is one big joke
And god knows that I've been at the end of my rope
For seven years it took to figure this out
She's laughing at my train of doubt about
Being found and being unidentified
Still concerned with all the details left behind
When I leave to find you
You'll know me when you see me
You'll see the signs
- 1994
Monday, May 31, 2004
Hm. Well, today's the day I decide what I'll be doing tomorrow. I'm still thinking I'm gonna try to kill myself, and still confident that I'm gonna fail. This is all just exposé of my mindset, which I'm only doing because I'm assuming I'll fail, even while totally planning to do it. This is laughing at myself, exposing my suicides as a fraud. Having cried wolf so many times before, I'm reduced to painting a picture of the dang wolf. And by doing this, presumably I'll never do it again.
My mind goes all fuzzy and cloudy on this precipice. It's funny how every time I get to this point, the future starts looking so bright, that I really can do anything, but it's just feeling, it's wisps of emotion. I've been here enough times to know that.
It's a beautiful day, just the day I was waiting for, that's why today and not yesterday, but beautiful days put me in a good mood and make me think the future is filled with beautiful days like this. But this is San Francisco, and that is so not true. I've been here long enough to know that.
I'm listening to Modest Mouse. I have This is a Long Drive for Someone Who Has Nothing to Think About, Good News for People Who Love Bad News, The Lonesome Crowded West, The Moon & Antarctica, and Building Nothing Out of Something on shuffle play. It makes me think of all the music I want to listen to, all the music that makes me feel and that I can relate to, but really it's a reminder that I'm not playing anymore and I'll never be a part of a group or a scene anymore.
Starting tomorrow, I will do all those things I said I would do. I'll give notice on my apartment and start getting ready to leave right away. I won't be thinking I'll leave at the end of the month, I'll leave for New Jersey just as soon as I'm ready. As soon as I've gotten rid of all the stuff I want to, and arranged to ship all the stuff I don't want to get rid of.
I don't know what I'll do once I get to New Jersey, I'll cross that bridge, not jump off of it, when I get to it. Maybe I'll try to "connect". Connect, George. Having done something with all my possessions, it might be that much easier to head to a monastery.
But before any of that happens, I have to once more give suicide the ol' college try. God, I love that expression, it's so stupid and funny and naive and condescending.
I have to once more try to see if anything I've been has been anything. If it meant anything. If it's been at all real. God, what a betrayal it will be if I fail. Has anything I've been writing meant anything? What happens to it if I fail this time?
*sigh*
My mind goes all fuzzy and cloudy on this precipice. It's funny how every time I get to this point, the future starts looking so bright, that I really can do anything, but it's just feeling, it's wisps of emotion. I've been here enough times to know that.
It's a beautiful day, just the day I was waiting for, that's why today and not yesterday, but beautiful days put me in a good mood and make me think the future is filled with beautiful days like this. But this is San Francisco, and that is so not true. I've been here long enough to know that.
I'm listening to Modest Mouse. I have This is a Long Drive for Someone Who Has Nothing to Think About, Good News for People Who Love Bad News, The Lonesome Crowded West, The Moon & Antarctica, and Building Nothing Out of Something on shuffle play. It makes me think of all the music I want to listen to, all the music that makes me feel and that I can relate to, but really it's a reminder that I'm not playing anymore and I'll never be a part of a group or a scene anymore.
Starting tomorrow, I will do all those things I said I would do. I'll give notice on my apartment and start getting ready to leave right away. I won't be thinking I'll leave at the end of the month, I'll leave for New Jersey just as soon as I'm ready. As soon as I've gotten rid of all the stuff I want to, and arranged to ship all the stuff I don't want to get rid of.
I don't know what I'll do once I get to New Jersey, I'll cross that bridge, not jump off of it, when I get to it. Maybe I'll try to "connect". Connect, George. Having done something with all my possessions, it might be that much easier to head to a monastery.
But before any of that happens, I have to once more give suicide the ol' college try. God, I love that expression, it's so stupid and funny and naive and condescending.
I have to once more try to see if anything I've been has been anything. If it meant anything. If it's been at all real. God, what a betrayal it will be if I fail. Has anything I've been writing meant anything? What happens to it if I fail this time?
*sigh*
WordsCharactersReading time
Sunday, May 30, 2004
I dislike the paradigm implied in the phrase "taking one's life". It implies the selfishness that so many suicides are accused of, and the accusation of selfishness is so hypocritical. It's pretty selfish of people to want people not to commit suicide just so that they don't have to go through the pain, or so that they can still benefit from their presence.
Oh. It's not for themselves, but for all the other people in their lives? Well, nice of you to feel so philanthropic.
The truth of the matter is that suicide is more a giving away of one's life. We don't want it, we're letting it go. If I don't want a shirt, I don't take it, I don't rip it up so no one else can have it, I give it away. Try it on for size. Next time you're referring to a suicide, say that they gave away their life. You probably won't do that because it sounds too good.
This is not to suggest that most suicides aren't selfish and ill-considered. Most are.
Oh. It's not for themselves, but for all the other people in their lives? Well, nice of you to feel so philanthropic.
The truth of the matter is that suicide is more a giving away of one's life. We don't want it, we're letting it go. If I don't want a shirt, I don't take it, I don't rip it up so no one else can have it, I give it away. Try it on for size. Next time you're referring to a suicide, say that they gave away their life. You probably won't do that because it sounds too good.
This is not to suggest that most suicides aren't selfish and ill-considered. Most are.
INSTRUCTIONS FOR JURORS SERVING THE WEEK OF JUNE 01, 2004
Group Number: 602 you are instructed to call the telephone standby number or visit the website Tuesday, June 1, 2004 after 5:00 PM for further instructions.
Hopefully my jury duty experience this time around will resemble my jury duty experience in the past, and this will go on for a week without being called in.
Other things to do next week:
- Send in last rent check/30 days notice of vacating
- Get a less anachronistic haircut
- Re-activate Netflix
- Send in digital camera for repair
Group Number: 602 you are instructed to call the telephone standby number or visit the website Tuesday, June 1, 2004 after 5:00 PM for further instructions.
Hopefully my jury duty experience this time around will resemble my jury duty experience in the past, and this will go on for a week without being called in.
Other things to do next week:
- Send in last rent check/30 days notice of vacating
- Get a less anachronistic haircut
- Re-activate Netflix
- Send in digital camera for repair
Saturday, May 29, 2004
Friday, May 28, 2004
The key to failing to commit suicide is having a plan that is so damn hard, so involved that the likelihood of success drops dramatically because of the time and mental lucidity required. Since I'm not planning any simplifications or changes to my age-old plan, chances are that I'll fail again, which I'm more than half expecting *wink*.
It is doubtful that I will be able to stay in the moment, to summon up my understanding to fade everything away; to realize that staying is empty grasping. It is doubtful that I will rise to the realization that this might be an essential and integral part of my journey and search. It is doubtful that I will exhibit any true understanding of life and reality beyond our five senses.
Quite the opposite. I will be gripped by the true nature of attachment (NB, attachment=not good). I will hold my arms out and spin 360 degrees and feel that this is all real and all that there is. There is nothing else, there is no leaving this, this is all there is, and I will go home. That's why I duct taped my house key under the fire extinguisher. I will accept that life isn't theory, it's flesh and bones, metabolizing and processing; eating, shitting, sleeping, fucking.
Each time I do this, whatever kept me around eventually fades and goes away. Then I go on flights of fancy, I go on distractions, I go on life benders. Life goes on and mutates and eventually I'll come around back to what made me want to leave again, like a bird to its nest.
OK, I'll do that if I fail this time. I will accept my life to live. I will no longer think of suicide as a mystical passage to get to the other side. And by the "other side", I don't mean death. Believing in reincarnation, I believe I've died countless times. Death is not a big deal. My ingrained understanding of non-attachment goes at least that far.
I mean the other side of a wall that is blocking my path, that rises now before me. A dark and silent barrier between all I am and all that I was ever meant and would ever want to be. I will turn away from that path and head down another, and I will look at the path ahead of me as one to be walked down. Build a road and go, just to keep on dreaming. I will accept that normative path, but in exchange I insist on being able to buy and own a gun.
Then if I do kill myself in an ordinary and gauche way, it will be quick and easy, and for reasons easy for people to figure out and understand as well as condemn. Depression. Loneliness. Social anxiety. Stress. Fear. Anger. Childhood isolation. Failure. Social detachment. Frustration. Inability to cope. Delusional. Possible borderline. Possible personality disorder.
It is doubtful that I will be able to stay in the moment, to summon up my understanding to fade everything away; to realize that staying is empty grasping. It is doubtful that I will rise to the realization that this might be an essential and integral part of my journey and search. It is doubtful that I will exhibit any true understanding of life and reality beyond our five senses.
Quite the opposite. I will be gripped by the true nature of attachment (NB, attachment=not good). I will hold my arms out and spin 360 degrees and feel that this is all real and all that there is. There is nothing else, there is no leaving this, this is all there is, and I will go home. That's why I duct taped my house key under the fire extinguisher. I will accept that life isn't theory, it's flesh and bones, metabolizing and processing; eating, shitting, sleeping, fucking.
Each time I do this, whatever kept me around eventually fades and goes away. Then I go on flights of fancy, I go on distractions, I go on life benders. Life goes on and mutates and eventually I'll come around back to what made me want to leave again, like a bird to its nest.
OK, I'll do that if I fail this time. I will accept my life to live. I will no longer think of suicide as a mystical passage to get to the other side. And by the "other side", I don't mean death. Believing in reincarnation, I believe I've died countless times. Death is not a big deal. My ingrained understanding of non-attachment goes at least that far.
I mean the other side of a wall that is blocking my path, that rises now before me. A dark and silent barrier between all I am and all that I was ever meant and would ever want to be. I will turn away from that path and head down another, and I will look at the path ahead of me as one to be walked down. Build a road and go, just to keep on dreaming. I will accept that normative path, but in exchange I insist on being able to buy and own a gun.
Then if I do kill myself in an ordinary and gauche way, it will be quick and easy, and for reasons easy for people to figure out and understand as well as condemn. Depression. Loneliness. Social anxiety. Stress. Fear. Anger. Childhood isolation. Failure. Social detachment. Frustration. Inability to cope. Delusional. Possible borderline. Possible personality disorder.
A slaggard once approached a fasting saint,
and baffled by despair made this complaint:
"The devil is a highwayman, a thief,
who's ruined me and robbed me of belief."
The saint replied: "Young man, the devil, too,
has made his way here to complain - of you!
'My province is the world,' I heard him say,
'Tell this new pilgrim of God's holy Way
to keep his hands off what is mine. If I
attack him it's because his fingers pry
in my affairs. If he will leave me be,
he's no concern of mine and can go free'."
- Conference of the Birds, p. 99
and baffled by despair made this complaint:
"The devil is a highwayman, a thief,
who's ruined me and robbed me of belief."
The saint replied: "Young man, the devil, too,
has made his way here to complain - of you!
'My province is the world,' I heard him say,
'Tell this new pilgrim of God's holy Way
to keep his hands off what is mine. If I
attack him it's because his fingers pry
in my affairs. If he will leave me be,
he's no concern of mine and can go free'."
- Conference of the Birds, p. 99
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
Suicide is not for everyone, and I certainly don't condone it without strict prerequisites. Foremost, if you don't believe in reincarnation, don't try it. Because then this life really is the only chance you'll get. Make it worth something for christsake. I would also counsel against suicides inspired by an immediate situation or crisis. If you can point to a specific reason you are reacting to, don't try it.
There are things I'll miss in failing to commit suicide. I'll miss the sense of closure. I'll miss the exuberance and ecstasy of feeling I've made it; that I've gotten to the end intact and in pretty good shape. I'll miss being able to reflect on my life and taking stock over my proud and happy moments, and actively letting them go, which we all have to do eventually anyway.
I'll miss having a good cry (more likely a good snotty bawl) over leaving and saying goodbye to this body and this life that I've naturally grown to call home all these years. This body and this life have been a good shell to me, warm and comfortable *pats body on its head portion*. This life including all the people in it.
No, instead I'll leave it to fate, with death an unpredictable unknown. My health will decline and I'll continue to struggle day in-day out, year in-year out, with mundane problems of financing my life, entertaining my life, and maintaining my lifestyle, although there will be continued moments of enriching my life and educating my life. I've got all the time in the world.
Always carry on. The love of my life leaves me, carry on. Someone I love, or someone I know dies, carry on. Hate my parents, carry on. Get sick, carry on. Get hit by an SUV, carry on. Lose or quit my job, carry on. Get old, carry on; life changes, carry on. Be offended by the morons who condemn suicide and think they know what life's about, carry on. Get lonely and isolated, carry on. Carry on until death hits out of the blue, or not so out of the blue, but in declining misery.
I wish suicide were for me. Dying would be such an adventure. Death is the only adventure.
There are things I'll miss in failing to commit suicide. I'll miss the sense of closure. I'll miss the exuberance and ecstasy of feeling I've made it; that I've gotten to the end intact and in pretty good shape. I'll miss being able to reflect on my life and taking stock over my proud and happy moments, and actively letting them go, which we all have to do eventually anyway.
I'll miss having a good cry (more likely a good snotty bawl) over leaving and saying goodbye to this body and this life that I've naturally grown to call home all these years. This body and this life have been a good shell to me, warm and comfortable *pats body on its head portion*. This life including all the people in it.
No, instead I'll leave it to fate, with death an unpredictable unknown. My health will decline and I'll continue to struggle day in-day out, year in-year out, with mundane problems of financing my life, entertaining my life, and maintaining my lifestyle, although there will be continued moments of enriching my life and educating my life. I've got all the time in the world.
Always carry on. The love of my life leaves me, carry on. Someone I love, or someone I know dies, carry on. Hate my parents, carry on. Get sick, carry on. Get hit by an SUV, carry on. Lose or quit my job, carry on. Get old, carry on; life changes, carry on. Be offended by the morons who condemn suicide and think they know what life's about, carry on. Get lonely and isolated, carry on. Carry on until death hits out of the blue, or not so out of the blue, but in declining misery.
I wish suicide were for me. Dying would be such an adventure. Death is the only adventure.
Monday, May 24, 2004
It occurs to me that people who know me might recognize my current approach to suicide as . . . just that, another approach. Still trying to get to it, even when I'm smirking at myself about it. That might be so. Other people who know me might go along with my personal take on it, that I still don't believe I'm gonna do it. Even if this is another new approach, I'm still smirking.
Why the doubt? Why any doubt? To me, it's just right. Every indication not only suggests that it's alright, but affirmatively points to it. It occurs to me that it may be a part of my path, it may be a test, it's something to learn from. I know, modern psychology would put me clearly in the delusional if I think suicide is justified by any concept or force outside of myself like destiny, signs, or voices telling me to do it.
We all have our lessons in life to learn, determined by ourselves, what we have decided. We may have set for ourselves the challenges we meet in life. We struggle with money; we struggle with greed; with love; with lust; with physical pain; with attachment; with acceptance; with whatever, you can figure out for yourselves what your struggle is with.
At one point, I thought my struggle was with existence. And the thing with these struggles we pose for ourselves is that we always have an out - suicide. If the challenge is too much, we eject, we abort; try again. I don't necessarily believe that anymore. I don't necessarily think existence is my struggle anymore. It has become more attachment to existence. It is both what I'm struggling against and what I'm attached to.
Theoretically, I see it, I get it. But I need to feel it, to really understand it, moth to the flame, just keep diving into that candle because that is truth that I theoretically know so well. Only theoretically.
I think that I've been killing myself for the past string of lifetimes to understand this. That's what it's taking to understand it. Lifetime after lifetime, and it's this hesitation, this doubt, this mark of my attachment to existence that trips me up every time; that when I do it, it's still, 'no, you still don't really understand it'. Existence is illusion. Attachment to existence is attachment to illusion.
Am I worth learning this lesson? There are other ways to learn it, but I don't think so for me. This is the way that I have to learn it, and even with the red carpet that my life is, I balk. Even with this lifetime, maybe I hesitated too much and will have to go around again.
I watch a lot of movies, I watch a lot on TV, different places, different lives that have it a lot worse than me. Thank god I'm where I am, with the comforts and luxuries I have. But...is this so wonderful? Attachment. Attachment to me just because I'm me. If I were in any of those other situations, I would make do because that would be who I am, but I'm still thinking how glad it is to be me. Let it go.
Once I get over this hurdle, suicide won't be an issue. I'll be able to live in this world without it even being a consideration; the way money and health aren't a consideration for me in this current life. I might even be able to condemn it in other people, to be a barrier for their true understanding of it so that they really learn it.
So really, what do you want for me?
Northern Exposure Quote of the Day:
Rick: Maggie!
Maggie: Rick! Rick?
Rick: Don't worry, I'm still dead.
Maggie: Where are we?
Rick: Heaven.
Maggie: Heaven. You're in heaven?
Rick: Well, it's really not all that hard to get in. I'm mean compared to an Ivy League school or some of the NBA playoff games, it's actually a breeze.
Maggie: This looks like the Grosse Point Country Club. Heaven is the Grosse Point Country Club?
Rick: For you. It's your dream.
Why the doubt? Why any doubt? To me, it's just right. Every indication not only suggests that it's alright, but affirmatively points to it. It occurs to me that it may be a part of my path, it may be a test, it's something to learn from. I know, modern psychology would put me clearly in the delusional if I think suicide is justified by any concept or force outside of myself like destiny, signs, or voices telling me to do it.
We all have our lessons in life to learn, determined by ourselves, what we have decided. We may have set for ourselves the challenges we meet in life. We struggle with money; we struggle with greed; with love; with lust; with physical pain; with attachment; with acceptance; with whatever, you can figure out for yourselves what your struggle is with.
At one point, I thought my struggle was with existence. And the thing with these struggles we pose for ourselves is that we always have an out - suicide. If the challenge is too much, we eject, we abort; try again. I don't necessarily believe that anymore. I don't necessarily think existence is my struggle anymore. It has become more attachment to existence. It is both what I'm struggling against and what I'm attached to.
Theoretically, I see it, I get it. But I need to feel it, to really understand it, moth to the flame, just keep diving into that candle because that is truth that I theoretically know so well. Only theoretically.
I think that I've been killing myself for the past string of lifetimes to understand this. That's what it's taking to understand it. Lifetime after lifetime, and it's this hesitation, this doubt, this mark of my attachment to existence that trips me up every time; that when I do it, it's still, 'no, you still don't really understand it'. Existence is illusion. Attachment to existence is attachment to illusion.
Am I worth learning this lesson? There are other ways to learn it, but I don't think so for me. This is the way that I have to learn it, and even with the red carpet that my life is, I balk. Even with this lifetime, maybe I hesitated too much and will have to go around again.
I watch a lot of movies, I watch a lot on TV, different places, different lives that have it a lot worse than me. Thank god I'm where I am, with the comforts and luxuries I have. But...is this so wonderful? Attachment. Attachment to me just because I'm me. If I were in any of those other situations, I would make do because that would be who I am, but I'm still thinking how glad it is to be me. Let it go.
Once I get over this hurdle, suicide won't be an issue. I'll be able to live in this world without it even being a consideration; the way money and health aren't a consideration for me in this current life. I might even be able to condemn it in other people, to be a barrier for their true understanding of it so that they really learn it.
So really, what do you want for me?
Northern Exposure Quote of the Day:
Rick: Maggie!
Maggie: Rick! Rick?
Rick: Don't worry, I'm still dead.
Maggie: Where are we?
Rick: Heaven.
Maggie: Heaven. You're in heaven?
Rick: Well, it's really not all that hard to get in. I'm mean compared to an Ivy League school or some of the NBA playoff games, it's actually a breeze.
Maggie: This looks like the Grosse Point Country Club. Heaven is the Grosse Point Country Club?
Rick: For you. It's your dream.
Thursday, May 20, 2004
I'm so pathetic. I'm the laughing stock of the suicide community and all my acquaintances and peers. I have zero credibility. I can say I'm gonna commit suicide high and low, right and left, far and wide and no big deal. No one's gonna believe me. No one should believe me.
I can start talking about it freely as an expression of what's on my mind. If I'm talking about doing it in the future, I'm not doing it right now. If I'm not doing it right now, I'm not doing it. No worries, it's not gonna happen.
I'm currently eyeing several days. I'm thinking this weekend or next weekend, leaning towards next weekend when high tide occurs after sunset. This weekend if I just say fuck it and manage to align the future with right now. Keeping an eye on wind conditions for practical reasons. Oh, and also check if Saturn is rising in Gemini. Mind you, shit like this has been going on for weeks and months and years and years and years and years and years.
So I'm finally gonna kill myself. Come on, folks, laugh it up with me. Laugh hard, it's a long ways to the bank. I can't be blamed for nothing anymore. It's been a long time since you've been around. Laugh hard, it's a long way to the bank.
Laugh at the hoaxter. I'm a suicide thinking about tides and winds and what I'm gonna wear for Critical Mass next Friday, giving notice on my apartment, and calling in for jury duty. Fuck all the cryptic bullshit I've been pos(t)ing. Let's start tracing the nooks and crannies of how I'm gonna fail to commit suicide.
It's not even worth starting a pool.
I can start talking about it freely as an expression of what's on my mind. If I'm talking about doing it in the future, I'm not doing it right now. If I'm not doing it right now, I'm not doing it. No worries, it's not gonna happen.
I'm currently eyeing several days. I'm thinking this weekend or next weekend, leaning towards next weekend when high tide occurs after sunset. This weekend if I just say fuck it and manage to align the future with right now. Keeping an eye on wind conditions for practical reasons. Oh, and also check if Saturn is rising in Gemini. Mind you, shit like this has been going on for weeks and months and years and years and years and years and years.
So I'm finally gonna kill myself. Come on, folks, laugh it up with me. Laugh hard, it's a long ways to the bank. I can't be blamed for nothing anymore. It's been a long time since you've been around. Laugh hard, it's a long way to the bank.
Laugh at the hoaxter. I'm a suicide thinking about tides and winds and what I'm gonna wear for Critical Mass next Friday, giving notice on my apartment, and calling in for jury duty. Fuck all the cryptic bullshit I've been pos(t)ing. Let's start tracing the nooks and crannies of how I'm gonna fail to commit suicide.
It's not even worth starting a pool.
Next comes the Valley of Bewilderment,
a place of pain and gnawing discontent.
Each second you will sigh, and every breath
will be a sword to make you long for death.
Blinded by grief, you will not recognize
the days and nights that pass before your eyes.
Blood drips from every hair and writes "alas"
beside the highway where the pilgrims pass.
In ice you fry, in fire you freeze - the Way
is lost, with indecisive steps you stray.
The Unity you knew has gone; your soul
is scattered and knows nothing of the Whole.
If someone asks, "What is your present state;
is drunkenness or sober sense your fate,
and do you flourish now or fade away?"
The pilgrim will confess, "I cannot say;
I have no certain knowledge any more;
I doubt my doubt, doubt itself is unsure.
I love, but who is it for whom I sigh?
Not Muslim, yet not heathen; who am I?
My heart is empty, yet with love is full.
My own love is to me incredible."
- The Conference of the Birds, pp. 196-197
Wednesday, May 19, 2004
Nothing new. Tracking high tides. Why are places taking so long to do stuff? I took in negatives to the photo store for reprints and it took them two days. I took my bike in for maintenance and it's gonna take two days. Stretching time out. Postponements.
I gotta give notice on my apartment at the end of this month. I got called for jury duty the first week of June. Finally. I hope I get an interesting case, I hope I don't get booted by one side or the other for having a law degree.
I got an email from Madoka. The turnaround was unusually quick and the tone was unusually affectionate. If it were a year ago, I wouldn't think twice, but at this point it's a little suspicious. The thing is, there is nothing to be suspicious about Madoka. No hidden agenda, nothing to watch out for. The fact that I can't explain the last year changes only very little.
It doesn't matter anymore anyways. Nothing does. And I can't explain anything about my entire life for the last 10 years; not being able to explain one year of one person in my life is really nothing.
It's so quiet in here.
It's been a while since I read about someone in the online community dying. It's always so sad, even if it's someone you don't know. It's always so moving to read people's reactions; to read how the deceased meant something to other people. I haven't been able to find mention of how that person died. I find it curious when people report a death, but don't mention how. What does that mean when they don't?
I've been following two other weblogs of people who have experienced suicide of close relations, and the concept is central to their weblogs. I don't link them because I might be offensive to them. I don't think they would accept anything I say about suicide.
Why am I different? Not that anyone believes that I'm gonna commit suicide. Even I don't have any reason to believe I'm gonna do it unless I get up and walk out the door right now. Right now. I said, right now. See? I ain't gonna do it. But I am different. The reasons are mine alone. It's no one else's business, no one has the fucking right to know.
The stars are so bright through the roof of the trees.
I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. And I didn't have my coffee until later in the day. I didn't know it would take two days to tune up my bike so I walked from the Haight to Civic Center. I'm still coughing and I just got cough drops tonight. I'm in my ninth hour of hiccups and I'm exhausted and worn. I feel lucky if my hiccups last less than 18 hours. I get Xtreme hiccups.
I gotta give notice on my apartment at the end of this month. I got called for jury duty the first week of June. Finally. I hope I get an interesting case, I hope I don't get booted by one side or the other for having a law degree.
I got an email from Madoka. The turnaround was unusually quick and the tone was unusually affectionate. If it were a year ago, I wouldn't think twice, but at this point it's a little suspicious. The thing is, there is nothing to be suspicious about Madoka. No hidden agenda, nothing to watch out for. The fact that I can't explain the last year changes only very little.
It doesn't matter anymore anyways. Nothing does. And I can't explain anything about my entire life for the last 10 years; not being able to explain one year of one person in my life is really nothing.
It's so quiet in here.
It's been a while since I read about someone in the online community dying. It's always so sad, even if it's someone you don't know. It's always so moving to read people's reactions; to read how the deceased meant something to other people. I haven't been able to find mention of how that person died. I find it curious when people report a death, but don't mention how. What does that mean when they don't?
I've been following two other weblogs of people who have experienced suicide of close relations, and the concept is central to their weblogs. I don't link them because I might be offensive to them. I don't think they would accept anything I say about suicide.
Why am I different? Not that anyone believes that I'm gonna commit suicide. Even I don't have any reason to believe I'm gonna do it unless I get up and walk out the door right now. Right now. I said, right now. See? I ain't gonna do it. But I am different. The reasons are mine alone. It's no one else's business, no one has the fucking right to know.
The stars are so bright through the roof of the trees.
I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. And I didn't have my coffee until later in the day. I didn't know it would take two days to tune up my bike so I walked from the Haight to Civic Center. I'm still coughing and I just got cough drops tonight. I'm in my ninth hour of hiccups and I'm exhausted and worn. I feel lucky if my hiccups last less than 18 hours. I get Xtreme hiccups.
Sunday, May 16, 2004
I did my ghost thing around the Castro this afternoon, walking around like I wasn't there, imagining a different world where the people I saw didn't look so heavy. Where people smiled and randomly said hello to each other. Where people didn't feel threatened or the need to feel threatening or dish out attitude. Where common courtesies were second nature because society was good about valuing them. Where people owned automobiles, but chose not to use them as a primary mode of transportation. Where people blew bubbles instead of smoked cigarettes. I'm in a commercial now, ain't I?
And then I ran into ex-co-worker, Ken. Nothing kills a ghost act than someone you know walking up and saying hi. I've fallen to such lows.
Northern Exposure Quote of the Day:
Walt: Good afternoon, Rhoda. I've got a little chest cold. What have you got for it?
Ruth Anne: Well, let's see, Tincture of Opium's good, codeine, oh and heroin syrup. Why don't you try them all and see what works best?
Walt: Much obliged, put them on my tab.
Ruth Anne: Mm-hm.
V.I. Lenin: I'll take these bunion shields.
And then I ran into ex-co-worker, Ken. Nothing kills a ghost act than someone you know walking up and saying hi. I've fallen to such lows.
Northern Exposure Quote of the Day:
Walt: Good afternoon, Rhoda. I've got a little chest cold. What have you got for it?
Ruth Anne: Well, let's see, Tincture of Opium's good, codeine, oh and heroin syrup. Why don't you try them all and see what works best?
Walt: Much obliged, put them on my tab.
Ruth Anne: Mm-hm.
V.I. Lenin: I'll take these bunion shields.
Friday, May 14, 2004
Thursday, May 13, 2004
Suicide: The Metaphor
I grew up on cliffs. The Palisades, to be specific, overlooking the Hudson River on the New Jersey side. Metaphorically, they were cliffs to jump off of. Hours spent on those cliffs, looking down, looking across the river at the lights of the Bronx, watching lights rise into the sky from LaGuardia and Kennedy Airports in the distance.
And always imagining how things could change. Would change. Maybe a fence would be built along the edge of the cliffs. Maybe the area would be developed, making it an inappropriate place to jump from. Maybe it would become more traveled by pedestrians. Maybe someone would come and lead me off the cliffs.
Alas, none of that happened. Instead, the cliffs have been cleared and there's a rock out-cropping that is perfect as a jump off point. And there's a brass band playing! And a podium where people are speaking, and stands for spectators waiting in anticipation, cameras trained on me. And I'm wearing a cape!
The cliffs are much higher than I remember. And the sky is bigger and bluer than I've ever seen it. It's a lovely, warm Summer day, the kind I love. I put my feet in the blocks for the running jump, and somehow I get the feeling I won't be falling downwards off the cliffs. Not down, down, down, splat, but up into the big blue. How I love panoramic views.
WordsCharactersReading time
If I move to a city where no one knows me, I'm going to change my name. If I entered a monastery, I'd get a new dharma name anyway. But if I don't go to a monastery and move to a city where no one knows me, maybe I'll revert to the name my parents gave me.
My current name, what I consider my real name, I took when I was 13. My older cousin in Japan offered it (that branch of family is Taiwanese living in Japan). She suggested some other names, too, but I can't even imagine being called any of those names. They just don't fit. They were Japanese names. I don't think of my name as a Japanese name, it's just my real name.
I took my name because it was special, and it rendered me special. It was a rejection of the mundane life my parents expected me to live. My life was my dreams, and my name enabled me to pursue them. It was attitude. It was cocky. It was wonder twin powers activated.
(Oddly enough, when I found out the Japanese characters for the name, the first character was almost exactly the same as the first character of my Chinese name, which my parents gave me (or some fortune teller rendered), but without the three "water drop" marks. Yea, whoa!) (NB: the Chinese pronunciation of the first character in my name turns out to be the same as the first character in my Chinese name! -ed.)
But now? I don't deserve it anymore. I'm not special anymore. The name is just a vanity now. It's a comb-over. It's a red sports car. Reverting to my parents' idea of my name puts me in my place. It makes me ordinary. It makes me nobody. It's appropriate.
Only if I move somewhere where no one knew me.
My current name, what I consider my real name, I took when I was 13. My older cousin in Japan offered it (that branch of family is Taiwanese living in Japan). She suggested some other names, too, but I can't even imagine being called any of those names. They just don't fit. They were Japanese names. I don't think of my name as a Japanese name, it's just my real name.
I took my name because it was special, and it rendered me special. It was a rejection of the mundane life my parents expected me to live. My life was my dreams, and my name enabled me to pursue them. It was attitude. It was cocky. It was wonder twin powers activated.
(Oddly enough, when I found out the Japanese characters for the name, the first character was almost exactly the same as the first character of my Chinese name, which my parents gave me (or some fortune teller rendered), but without the three "water drop" marks. Yea, whoa!) (NB: the Chinese pronunciation of the first character in my name turns out to be the same as the first character in my Chinese name! -ed.)
But now? I don't deserve it anymore. I'm not special anymore. The name is just a vanity now. It's a comb-over. It's a red sports car. Reverting to my parents' idea of my name puts me in my place. It makes me ordinary. It makes me nobody. It's appropriate.
Only if I move somewhere where no one knew me.
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
It's really such a mess. I think of where I am and where I want to go, and where I'm drawn to go, and it's just such an ironic mess. The words 'karmic obstacles' come up again and again.
There's this path that I want to go down, it resonates to me as the right path to head towards some ultimate, personal truth, irreverent of any conception of truth that humans believe in, and yet I can't take the first steps to head down that path.
Obstacles. It would take so little to get me heading down that path, but my life is just so that none of that little exists. All I need is a little bit of help, but no, no help, I have to do it myself from the ground up. But I don't have the strength or motivation to get things moving alone.
It just sounds like an excuse. It sounds like a plan set up for futility. What more can I do? To whom else can I reach out? Why can't I have just that little bit that so many people have that would help push me down that path? Just a little push. Just a pat on the back. Just a little concern. Just a little encouragement.
But no, that's not my path, not this time. For this time, I have to find my way to it alone. That's my karma. That's the way I've set it up. No help. No one else at all. And if I can't resist the tide, the whirlpool, the black hole drawing me in, maybe I'll have to do it all over again. And I'm having trouble resisting the tide.
There's this path that I want to go down, it resonates to me as the right path to head towards some ultimate, personal truth, irreverent of any conception of truth that humans believe in, and yet I can't take the first steps to head down that path.
Obstacles. It would take so little to get me heading down that path, but my life is just so that none of that little exists. All I need is a little bit of help, but no, no help, I have to do it myself from the ground up. But I don't have the strength or motivation to get things moving alone.
It just sounds like an excuse. It sounds like a plan set up for futility. What more can I do? To whom else can I reach out? Why can't I have just that little bit that so many people have that would help push me down that path? Just a little push. Just a pat on the back. Just a little concern. Just a little encouragement.
But no, that's not my path, not this time. For this time, I have to find my way to it alone. That's my karma. That's the way I've set it up. No help. No one else at all. And if I can't resist the tide, the whirlpool, the black hole drawing me in, maybe I'll have to do it all over again. And I'm having trouble resisting the tide.
Friday, May 07, 2004
Identity Inventory
- I was born ina crossfire hurricane Ann Arbor, Michigan.
- I grew up in this town, New Jersey.
- I hated my parents until August 1996.
- I fought with my two older brothers constantly while growing up.
- Growing up, I followed my brothers' and their friends' lead and was into building plastic model kits of World War II aircraft and ships. People look at me funny when I can identify WWII aircraft.
- I think those same people got me into Astronomy. People ignore me when I muse what's going on in the night sky.
- I went to Oberlin College (studied East Asian religion and history).
- I have a law degree and a Masters of Law, neither of which I use.
- I used to be a runner, starting when I was 13 and stopping because of knee injury.
- I've been road cycling for 3 years, and I'm just starting mountain biking.
- I used to be a musician (rock). Bass, drums, guitar, and working knowledge of piano. I played string bass in pit orchestra and orchestra in high school. I was in a steel drum band in college.
- Music is the most important thing in life and most central to my identity, and I quit it. I was never really any good at it. But anyone who doesn't think of me as a musician may as well not know me (that's just about everybody now).
- I am philosophically suicidal. I won't know if I'm practically suicidal until I actually do it.
- Committing suicide is always in my future plans.
- Having it always planned in the future keeps me from doing it right now.
- I use suicide gestures to maintain an appreciation for life (although not living, obviously).
- I used to be a cutter, starting when I was 12 and stopping last year.
- I continued cutting even after the "need" was gone because it had become habit. I stopped because I got bored with it.
- I was suspended from high school (one week) and college (one semester) for cutting.
- I was committed twice during that semester.
- If you want to see me do it, just give me a razor. It's no big deal.
- Showing my scars is an act of intimacy.
- I may have been alcoholic, depending on definition. I cut way back last year because I got bored with being drunk all the time.
- List of all the women I've gone out with in reverse order: Josephine, Shiho, Joy, Amina, Luyen, Hiromi, Sakuko, Liz, Darcy, Sarah, Amanda, Nancy.
- Shiho should show up two other times in that list.
- Shiho is as close to a "high school sweetheart" as I had.
- Amanda has a famous older sister who won an Academy Award for best supporting actress in a Woody Allen film.
- I don't know who I lost my virginity to, it depends on how you define "sex" (yay Bill!).
- I got caught in bed with two of those girls by their parents (<- my deepest and darkest secret, this is my first ever disclosure of it and only casual sex and alcohol or drugs could get me to say any more about those incidents).
- List of all the men I've gone out with: ... ok, so I have no gay cred. Sue me.
- I don't do drugs, but I think I would be much better adjusted if I had done more drugs.
- My first of very few drug experiences was shrooms when I was a senior in high school. That night, I dove into a lit fireplace, apparently spoke in fluent Japanese, and people were afraid I was going to jump out a window.
- I took the shrooms because I was writing a paper on narcotics for Psychology class and felt like a hypocrite never having taken anything before.
- I feel I've wasted 10 years of my life in San Francisco.
- I was born in
- I grew up in this town, New Jersey.
- I hated my parents until August 1996.
- I fought with my two older brothers constantly while growing up.
- Growing up, I followed my brothers' and their friends' lead and was into building plastic model kits of World War II aircraft and ships. People look at me funny when I can identify WWII aircraft.
- I think those same people got me into Astronomy. People ignore me when I muse what's going on in the night sky.
- I went to Oberlin College (studied East Asian religion and history).
- I have a law degree and a Masters of Law, neither of which I use.
- I used to be a runner, starting when I was 13 and stopping because of knee injury.
- I've been road cycling for 3 years, and I'm just starting mountain biking.
- I used to be a musician (rock). Bass, drums, guitar, and working knowledge of piano. I played string bass in pit orchestra and orchestra in high school. I was in a steel drum band in college.
- Music is the most important thing in life and most central to my identity, and I quit it. I was never really any good at it. But anyone who doesn't think of me as a musician may as well not know me (that's just about everybody now).
- I am philosophically suicidal. I won't know if I'm practically suicidal until I actually do it.
- Committing suicide is always in my future plans.
- Having it always planned in the future keeps me from doing it right now.
- I use suicide gestures to maintain an appreciation for life (although not living, obviously).
- I used to be a cutter, starting when I was 12 and stopping last year.
- I continued cutting even after the "need" was gone because it had become habit. I stopped because I got bored with it.
- I was suspended from high school (one week) and college (one semester) for cutting.
- I was committed twice during that semester.
- If you want to see me do it, just give me a razor. It's no big deal.
- Showing my scars is an act of intimacy.
- I may have been alcoholic, depending on definition. I cut way back last year because I got bored with being drunk all the time.
- List of all the women I've gone out with in reverse order: Josephine, Shiho, Joy, Amina, Luyen, Hiromi, Sakuko, Liz, Darcy, Sarah, Amanda, Nancy.
- Shiho should show up two other times in that list.
- Shiho is as close to a "high school sweetheart" as I had.
- Amanda has a famous older sister who won an Academy Award for best supporting actress in a Woody Allen film.
- I don't know who I lost my virginity to, it depends on how you define "sex" (yay Bill!).
- I got caught in bed with two of those girls by their parents (<- my deepest and darkest secret, this is my first ever disclosure of it and only casual sex and alcohol or drugs could get me to say any more about those incidents).
- List of all the men I've gone out with: ... ok, so I have no gay cred. Sue me.
- I don't do drugs, but I think I would be much better adjusted if I had done more drugs.
- My first of very few drug experiences was shrooms when I was a senior in high school. That night, I dove into a lit fireplace, apparently spoke in fluent Japanese, and people were afraid I was going to jump out a window.
- I took the shrooms because I was writing a paper on narcotics for Psychology class and felt like a hypocrite never having taken anything before.
- I feel I've wasted 10 years of my life in San Francisco.
Thursday, May 06, 2004
Wednesday, May 05, 2004
Egad, I wish I would stop writing entries like the last one. How many times have I written something like that before. It's like I'm repeating myself over and over again. It's like I'm repeating myself over and over again.
I've been going through email exchanges with Madoka over the past year, wondering if claiming to "drop" her was justified. First of all, all that meant was lowering my emotional investment in her to match what I've beengetting feeling from her. Second of all, no, it wasn't justified. Not yet.
The pattern indicating that things have changed may be traced to more than a year ago, but indicators that really furrowed my brow only go back to November, and that's not long enough to establish a pattern showing that the nature of our friendship has changed. We've been through worse. Given the chance, we'll go through better.
Going back for more than a year and including since November, yes, lowering my emotional investment is warranted*. I know what I'm sensing, I'm not crazy or being overly-dramatic (anymore). It's unilateral and from her side, she won't notice anything. I know I'm just as theoretically "important" to her as before, but there's a huge break in the connection. It's appropriate that she doesn't notice any change, because we can bounce back at any time, and any negativity caused by my whining about our friendship would be moot, and therefore not worth it.
* ok, ok, I'm aware that I defined "dropping" as lowering emotional investment and that it was not justified in the first paragraph, but then I'm saying that lowering emotional investment is warranted in the second paragraph. deal with it, you're adults. - ed.
I've been going through email exchanges with Madoka over the past year, wondering if claiming to "drop" her was justified. First of all, all that meant was lowering my emotional investment in her to match what I've been
The pattern indicating that things have changed may be traced to more than a year ago, but indicators that really furrowed my brow only go back to November, and that's not long enough to establish a pattern showing that the nature of our friendship has changed. We've been through worse. Given the chance, we'll go through better.
Going back for more than a year and including since November, yes, lowering my emotional investment is warranted*. I know what I'm sensing, I'm not crazy or being overly-dramatic (anymore). It's unilateral and from her side, she won't notice anything. I know I'm just as theoretically "important" to her as before, but there's a huge break in the connection. It's appropriate that she doesn't notice any change, because we can bounce back at any time, and any negativity caused by my whining about our friendship would be moot, and therefore not worth it.
* ok, ok, I'm aware that I defined "dropping" as lowering emotional investment and that it was not justified in the first paragraph, but then I'm saying that lowering emotional investment is warranted in the second paragraph. deal with it, you're adults. - ed.
Tuesday, May 04, 2004
I go through days as a ghost. When I'm home, no one knows I'm here, what I'm doing, what I'm like, what I feel. The chance interactions I have are arbitrary and unnecessary. When I'm out and about I've taken to imagine not existing, fading in and out, mostly out, of wherever I am; don't need to be here.
I feel it all the way through and through that this does not need to be here; it isn't here. I don't look at people anymore, I don't make any eye contact. Remove me and nothing changes, I'm not here. And I'm lucky because I can still feel how wonderful it is to breathe, to feel the air, to be on the ground, and to perceive all this around me.
Not existing is my meditation. Sometimes I take it so far I have to put reality back together piece by piece in my mind to re-form it. Weird. Why am I even trying to describe this?
It's just me now. I've disconnected so much that no one else is a consideration. No one else ever should have been a consideration. To the extent they were, it was just my imagination. It was always just about me. I do what I want to do, if I don't, it's because I didn't want to. Stop giving a crap how anyone else might be affected, that's such bullshit. I feel like I should break into song right about here.
I feel it all the way through and through that this does not need to be here; it isn't here. I don't look at people anymore, I don't make any eye contact. Remove me and nothing changes, I'm not here. And I'm lucky because I can still feel how wonderful it is to breathe, to feel the air, to be on the ground, and to perceive all this around me.
Not existing is my meditation. Sometimes I take it so far I have to put reality back together piece by piece in my mind to re-form it. Weird. Why am I even trying to describe this?
It's just me now. I've disconnected so much that no one else is a consideration. No one else ever should have been a consideration. To the extent they were, it was just my imagination. It was always just about me. I do what I want to do, if I don't, it's because I didn't want to. Stop giving a crap how anyone else might be affected, that's such bullshit. I feel like I should break into song right about here.
Sunday, May 02, 2004
I'm trying to wrestle back control of this weblog. Every time I look at the posting page, negativity creeps up, blocks, and forces my vision into the tunnel. I didn't need to live through April. What did I do in April for the benefit of whom in April that made April worth living through? Is May going to be more of the same?
I think I've come as close to my own personal theory of everything as I'm willing to. I think it's good for everyone to have a personal theory of everything, ponder the unponderables, tange the intangibles. Instead of being like a goldfish thrown into a river and being swept where the current wishes, never questioning water, memory lasting the whole of 8 seconds.
No, I don't have any answers. Not for anyone else, at least. Just for myself. And I do think I am where I am for a reason, so it doesn't matter that I didn't need to live through April. The fact is that I did. If I live through May the same way, something is still going on. If I don't, what can I say?
I think I've come as close to my own personal theory of everything as I'm willing to. I think it's good for everyone to have a personal theory of everything, ponder the unponderables, tange the intangibles. Instead of being like a goldfish thrown into a river and being swept where the current wishes, never questioning water, memory lasting the whole of 8 seconds.
No, I don't have any answers. Not for anyone else, at least. Just for myself. And I do think I am where I am for a reason, so it doesn't matter that I didn't need to live through April. The fact is that I did. If I live through May the same way, something is still going on. If I don't, what can I say?
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