At the monastery, I thought about the pointlessness of material life. Now I think about the monastic life and have feelings that it would be pointless, too. The whole enchilada is pointless. Which is, naturally, the point. A point which I knew all along.

Why do I even want to change? Do I even want to change? What am I doing? What am I doing here? It always goes back to that. And to get back to that, thinking of entering a monastery is just a distraction. Entering a monastery is just a distraction. Entering a monastery is just a distraction?