Struggling against negativity. It has reached new epic levels at the same time as I try to cultivate a new calm. Like I said, something snapped, something's different.

I wake up and sit, but I've been having the "worst" sittings ever. I don't want to put a judgment on that, that it's bad. It's been the worst sitting, but I don't want to imply that it's been bad... You figure it out.

My classroom experience, very negative. And sets the stage for the rest of the day. Although today wasn't as bad. I left my apartment early and relaxed over breakfast on campus, so perhaps the morning ride to class has had something to do with my morning negativity. Taipei traffic, no time to relax, straight to class.

Vast emptiness.

Yesterday I didn't want to commit suicide. It sucks when that happens, I hate that feeling. It makes me doubt myself, like I shouldn't do it just in case there's something to it. But I've been through that line of thinking already. It's valid only if I took stock in life as reality and reality as real.

I got it backwards somewhere along the line. The drive towards suicide is the norm, the pangs of continuing are the exception. I think normally people want to commit suicide because of certain conditions that arise in their lives, if it weren't for those conditions, they wouldn't want to commit suicide.

The argument against suicide is if they could change those conditions, which is at least a possibility within our abilities, then they wouldn't want to commit suicide. So it's better to work on changing those conditions than to resort to something as permanent as suicide, because the basic desire is still to live, and the basic paradigm is still to be happy. OK, whatever.

But it's the temporary conditions that make me want to live. How does the same logic apply? OK, I'm being facetious, twisting things around. Like suicide being an affirmative, proactive thing for me. The idea of suicide is what is keeping me alive. If I didn't have suicide somewhere in the future, life certainly wouldn't be worth living.

But now it's just getting ridiculous. There was a time when "hope" meant something. "Hope" without the moralistic judgments of something better. But there was a time when not committing suicide could have meant something; could have meant something else.

But at my age, not committing suicide comes with the realization that I'm going to die anyway. My bodily functions are going to decline anyway. What I'm preserving by not committing suicide becomes less of something worth preserving. Not committing suicide is no longer accompanied by the fact that I would otherwise live forever.

There was a time when I could accept that my suicide could be perceived as sad, or tragic, or unfortunate, suggesting that my living includes all these wonderful things, opportunities, contributions, interactions...

Now it's accompanied by a big "so what?". If I don't commit suicide, "so what?" If I don't commit suicide, how is it going to impact who? I'm in no one's life now, and no one expects me in their lives.

And wouldn't committing suicide be a great way of getting revenge on them?!