I need to do something. I need to get angry. I need to get aggressive. I need to be motivated. Enough to kill myself. Enough to go to Japan for three months. Enough to request aspirancy and go to the root monastery and ordain. Enough to go to Taiwan and get a job. Enough to make friends. Enough to fall in love. Enough to play music again.

In meditation, I visualize myself as perfected, mind calm, unattached, not attached to self, empty of attachments, not fooled by appearances, not fooled by a conceiving mind, not fooled by anything generated by "self" and its relativistic associations.

In the form realm, I visualize my skin unblemished, no scars, smooth, bronze, well-toned, nothing extraneous, hair full and healthy, eyes clear and calm, half-smile on my lips, all muscles relaxed.

In meditation, I recall every little stabbing unknown pain I've experienced in random places in my body and increase it by a hundred and call it the first pangs of dying. I die 84,000 times a day.

I need to want something. I need to care. I need to feel.


January 1, 1997 - Grandfather's grave, Taiwan