Yea, well, OK, perhaps a proclamation of an aspiration to die was pretty lame, I realize, since I'm still pretty unclear on the concept of death. We have life and we have death, and I say I have no problem with life, and I say I'm aspiring to death, but then remember my problem is not with life and living, but with existence.

Juxtapose existence and death, and then I wonder if I know what the hell I'm talking about. I went for a run the other night after work, trying just to focus on the experience of existence and fit the pieces together with the puzzle of death.

My experience of existence is all I know. I'm steeped in it, I'm marinating in it. There is nothing objective about existence as I move through it, and everything around me is my existence. So what is this thing death? What is this thing where this existence doesn't exist?

My consciousness is the center of my existence. The world revolves around my consciousness, even though the whole experience is my existence. As my arms swung and legs strode, I thought about the "existence" of my body as a whole, all its parts. They, too, exist, as does my consciousness. Then I got the weird thought about how can my consciousness alone decide on the existence of all my body parts?

My consciousness says I aspire towards death, but what do my feet have to say about it? Knees? Liver? Blood? I don't know if the idea is really translating into words, but it did remind me of something in Tibetan Buddhism which mentions that gods or deities "live in our body". I didn't really buy it, because it was in the context of condemning suicide, because committing suicide kills these deities, blah, blah, blah, and I was like "whatever".

I must say, though, that my thought, having originated in me, did make that thing in Tibetan Buddhism resonate. Not that I believe deities live in my body parts or that committing suicide kills them and is therefore an inexpiable sin, but . . .what that is talking about is the same thing that crossed my mind in that running meditation.

I'm still having sleeping problems, still trying to come up with new methods to deal with it. It's like rotating frequencies to deal with the Borg. I stopped drinking coffee, and I'm finally going to see if I can stop drinking, see if that has anything to do with it.

If my unconscious is trying to tell me to break habits, well, drinking is a habit. So I haven't drunk anything in almost 48 hours, doesn't sound like much, but . . . nevermind. I'm leaving the bottle and the last shot glass I used where I left them until I say 'fuck it', or I realize I'm stopping for the duration. I won't ever say I'm stopping for good.