I wrote on my Facebook page: "I'm wondering if I should stay at work because I have no reason to leave, or if I should leave work because I have no reason to stay."

It's normally something I would've written here; it was a bit risky putting it on Facebook because it reveals too much – too much for casual acquaintances. Whenever someone responds with "concern", I know I've gone too far, but fortunately this post was clean.

The quandary it poses is just a disguise for the key point: no reason, no point. But on the other hand, no reason to leave, no reason to stay – sounds like freedom to me, along with the option to either leave or stay.

The boss who came in earlier this year is totally oblivious to how he's about to lose key swaths of his workforce, and even more oblivious to the fact that he's the reason. There's a lot of grumbling, people sending out resumes, some who've already landed other jobs.

And here I am with the choice whether to leave or stay. And I'm one of the only people who doesn't complain about the boss because for some reason he's staying as far away from me as possible. I won't guess why, but in the few interactions I've had with him, he's been totally respectful. As have I.

I guess that's the "should I stay because I have no reason to leave part".

Although I do have reason to leave. Just none that relate directly to the job I'm supposed to be doing.

Today would have been a perfect day to just disappear, but something is stopping me. Nothing new there.

Today is my day off. Tomorrow, Saturday, I have a part-time shift on the easiest day of the week. If I didn't show up, it wouldn't be so dire – in my opinion, Saturday doesn't require 2 copy editors – and there may be someone there who could swing shift to replace me if I mysteriously didn't show up.

I think I've laid enough signals that if I didn't show up at one shift, they shouldn't expect me to show up at any future shifts. Well no, I haven't laid signals – I've said it outright.

But if I'm thinking that way, that's indicative in itself. Not showing up should mean I don't give a crap about these little details. So why am I thinking of these little details?

I shouldn't be. Or is my attention to these little details indicative of simple resonant responsibility, and maybe even compassion, to the fact that these other people still take their lives seriously, more seriously than I took mine, and I should try to minimize any disruption to their lives?

Hmph, am I so arrogant to think my "disruption to their lives" extends beyond just practical work considerations? That's easy: maybe. But not not enough to sway me either way.

This is all wrong. Suicide is suicide. It messes things up for other people. And there is no warning. If you're going to commit suicide, you don't project it and hope people are prepared for it. Nothing prepares people for it. And projecting it means it's a cry for help, not a genuine intention.

And what gets messed up in other people's lives by my suicide is actually quite minor. They'll deal, it'll pass.

Family? I want them to feel the effects of my suicide. Friends? What friends? Please.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 5:54 p.m. - 101 and waxing croissant moon.

When I got reinstated at my job in April, I thought I could do it. Maintain it. I thought I could just be satisfied and float indefinitely.

Now I'm realizing that's just not me.

I still do the meditations of just being satisfied, just being happy, and not let the niggling negative thoughts get the better of me, distress me, but something's been amplifying them. Probably me.

Work is getting unbearable. I go to work and I just want to die. I hate myself, I hate my life. Riding to work is madness in my head and riding home from work is serious decompression. The positive and negative sides of my personality in serious battle.

I don't know if I'm the only person at work under this kind of stress. I aim to put out newspapers with no facial errors. And the management still annoys me with nitpicking that makes me want to punch them in the nose. Why am I working there? This newspaper obviously doesn't have the wisdom or the resources to be the quality newspaper they think they are.

On days I don't work, I notice numerous things that I wouldn't have let pass. Why am I doing this to myself? Probably because when I leave, I want someone to notice it. But who am I kidding? No one's going to notice it.

And still I tell myself that this can't last much longer. From the usual mental distress to what should be fact that my liver can't last much longer, emphasized by more frequent lower back aches.

And the only thing that makes me happy is keeping death right in front of my face and realizing life is too worthwhile and beautiful to go through it distressed.

3:38 p.m. - Photostitch of Maishuai Bridge #1 and Rainbow Bridge over the Keelung River.

Nikon N70, Kodak BW400CN, experimenting with ISO settings (400 unless otherwise indicated). Basically I don't think it matters unless you're developing the film yourself:

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 18 - MRT line construction constantly shifting traffic patterns. ISO 200.

Brown Line MRT turning from Heping E. Rd. to Fuxing S. Rd. Or vice versa. ISO 200.

A fave fishball noodles hole in the wall on Heping E. Rd. ISO 800.

SEPTEMBER 19 - Xinyi Rd. under the Jianguo elevated expressway. On weekends, the parking lots under the expressway become a massive flower/jade/arts & crafts market.

Taipei experimented with the car-free zone idea, closing off a section of Zhongxiao E. Rd. along a busy shopping district for a few hours. The idea didn't take, it was a one-off. I think people were too bewildered and brain-washed to enjoy it and the disruption to the bus lines was probably not insignificant. Bottom pic ISO 200.

I didn't actually seriously think anything would come out of this thing with Tako, but I was just curious if anyone could still be interested in me, so I didn't discourage her friendliness and attention. But to lay it all to rest, aside from our huge age difference, she finally got a substantive red flag.

A bunch of co-workers bought a bunch of beers and hung out in a nearby park after work not long ago. One of the things that came up were red flags – things that would stop our attraction to another person in its tracks.

I didn't mention this one: If they mention they are still in a prior emotional "entanglement." That's a fatal red flag for me and I lose all interest. Generally, the entanglement can still potentially be clarified, but in this case, along with her age, that's it, done. Red flags do compound.

It made me think of a corollary red flag that I also forgot to mention: If they repeatedly mention their exes, that's a fatal red flag. Maybe they're trying to show off that they're desirable, but it comes off that they're still hung up. It's usually the latter.

The general rule is that if you're interested in someone, you only want them to think of you and that person. If you bring another person into the image, you basically ruined it. It's a pretty basic and obvious rule, so in my case, people are generally overtly telling me they aren't interested in me.

I don't seriously think anyone could be interested in me, but for shits and giggles I still look for the red flags. Let's see what Amber's will be. There's something wrong with everyone in my book.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 13, 8:11 p.m. - At work. The phone is the woman's, as is the phone puff. My iPod Shuffle.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 2:59-3:00 p.m. - Around my neighborhood. Canon IXUS 860 IS (color removed, not the camera's black & white setting).

Eva and Tako are both good and fine, but the co-worker who has me under her spell is Amber.

Amber seems to have no interest in anyone, keeps to herself, and seems like she doesn't want anyone prying or thinking about her. She might even be offended by this assessment of her; that I even considered her without her knowing. She may be more of a porcupine than me. Outwardly, my porcupinity doesn't show.

But when she's around I have trouble keeping my eyes off her. To me, she's cuter than any button. When she comes to me with a question, I feel honored. When she sits next to me I'm inebriated, I melt. And I'm happy that she's a porcupine and with the arms distances we both keep all other people, there is nothing to consider, nothing to be mistaken.

But Tako drew a caricature of me as a night-owl, and it was sweet and I stuck it on my keyboard because it was sweet and cute; no one has done anything like that to me in a long time, brought out the schoolboy in me.

But Amber was there when someone pointed it out and asked about it, and to me it was nothing special, just a sweet gesture, and I said yea, Tako drew it. I had wondered if it was supposed to be me, but realized it was when what I thought may have been chopsticks were more likely definitely drumsticks.

I wondered if I was crazy to think I noticed an extremely subtle reaction in Amber. Had she noticed that she has an effect on me. Was she thinking what was this other person doing trying to have meaning to me, when clearly I am only interested in Amber?

I shake my head and laugh. It's Autumn, the Summer heat has broken. Autumn means Winter. Winter whispers "not a chance" to me. And if nothing what I'm planning pans out, I've decided on my end date for staying in Taiwan anyway.

I will not stay in Taiwan for more than 5 years. I was in San Francisco for 11 years, and to think I'd languish in Taipei for even half of my San Francisco sojourn is unthinkable. It also helps that with that end date, I'm more than halfway through. So if I'm still around, I will not stay in Taiwan beyond February 2011.

Eva was on copy editing shift with me tonight. She's a writer, but her English is good enough and she was willing to learn the copy editing responsibilities and take some shifts that we've decided to use her maybe once a week. Towards the end of the shift, when the pages were sent but we were still looking for any mistakes, I was caught between a glass door, a computer and Eva. She was standing close and I realized I couldn't remember the last time someone stood so close to me for a protracted amount of time.

I still fear physical intimacy and my realization that I probably couldn't resist it. I was distracted. I felt Eva's presence there like a magnet. She was close enough that I should've been able to smell her, but I couldn't.

I can breathe Amber in like an elixir whenever she's close.

There's this reality there, surrounding me, that I don't want. But telling myself I don't want a piece of candy a thousand times isn't going to stop me from reaching out for it in the candy store.

So Bobby Burgess wrote on May 4, 2008:

top fears and doubts (unordered):

• i meet my father and find out he has no qualities i admire and strive toward. i've only met him a couple times. haven't talked to him since high school. a couple months ago he mailed me a check for $5000 and invited me to visit in nicaragua. i'm flying there in july.
• my not being career-minded will me leave me destitute in someone's garage, wasting away in a bathrobe watching game show reruns.
• i die before my mother.
• my teeth rot and fall out. my teeth are fine now, but sometimes i want extract them with pliers so they can never turn black and crumble. ugh.
• i break sarah's heart. i met sarah in georgia while at a training seminar for my job. she's gooey sweet with the cutest southern accent, but...
• i'm too insular, isolated. i sit around and think too much. i don't go out. i wander around alone, wondering about stuff, looking at clouds and ferns.
• i'm too american, too industrialized. this culture shapes me more than i realize. i invest in mutual funds. you know what that makes me? that makes me the man. i own a sliver of every major company. yes, i recycle and conserve electricity in my house, but i own all the corporations that rape this planet and exploit people's brain chemistry. i am a CEO of destruction. so i can grow my savings 8% to 10% a year.
• i exhausted my creative drive in my early 20s. i don't know. i used to take a hundred pictures a day, but a lone weed growing through a chain link fence isn't that profound to me anymore.
• sasha died thinking she made a mistake. sasha was my obstinate rottweiler puppy back home. she died from an abdominal infection after being spayed. heartstabbing, yes, but you have to accept that. i did. many months later. but i'm scared that when she was writhing in her death throes in the corner of the basement, she thought it was her fault, or that she did something wrong. you didn't do anything wrong, sash. it was just germs.
• i'm not having enough sex. my sex-having is probably average, but it could be above average. hot young sex! all the time! yeah!

Bouncing off his post:

• I know my father and I don't want to say he has no qualities I admire and strive towards, but I probably have to. He's effectively retired, but my mother forces him to do a little work at the office so he doesn't fall over dead. He's old and acts it and has ignored my entreaties to write down his story to keep his mind sharp in his old age, and because for god's sake no one knows it. His children sure don't, and when he goes, a lot of his value, meaning his life story stored in his brain, will also disappear like a hard drive crashing with nothing saved. I don't want the story for myself, but for 1) his memory; 2) his grandchildren, who should have access to this piece of their family history. My parents always pay my travel expenses when I visit, otherwise I likely wouldn't go.
• My not being career-minded has left me metaphorically destitute in someone's garage, watching game show re-runs, but I'm still more glad that I paid attention to the things I considered important to life, rather than being career-minded.
• My goal is to die before my mother, otherwise my life will have been a waste.
• My teeth rot and fall out. My teeth are fine now, but they shouldn't be. I don't take care of them. I realize how lucky I am to have healthy teeth, but even so, I know that won't last forever. Or even necessarily for much longer. I see the human condition in the metaphor of teeth.
• I'm not afraid of breaking anyone's heart. No one's interested in letting me handle theirs, but...
• I'm too insular, isolated. I sit around and think too much. I don't go out. I wander around alone, wondering about stuff, looking at clouds and ferns. And walking through the candy store.
• Maybe I'm not very "american". I don't invest, I pay off my credit card every month. I just read Maxed Out and I'm useless to the credit card company. But I treat them like a legitimate business so that they can go about their real business of making sure many "americans" are perpetually in debt. I don't have savings to speak of. Whenever I've saved something, I consequently quit my job and spent it. I'm thinking of doing that now again. I guess, here, "american" means "capitalist", which means screwing someone or getting screwed.
  
• I exhausted my creative drive in my late-20s. That's arguable. But it's alright. What I've lost in creativity, I've replaced with appreciation, whether it be seeing things in movies other people don't see, or K-pop girl groups, or 30 Rock, or my 14,500 song strong iPod.
• Sesame died in Amina's care. And she did. And I don't even remember if it was Sesame. I had so many gerbils in college. When Amina told me, I just felt bad that I had put her in a position that she had to tell me my gerbils had died.
• I'm not having enough sex. Wait, I'm not having any sex. I'll never have sex again. And I probably won't. Deal!

Salma Hayek: I cannot marry him because of a terrible secret. Please don't ask me what it is.
Tina Fey: I won't. I don't want to know. Are you a man?
Salma Hayek: Really? That's your guess? A man? Do you want to see me naked?
Tina Fey: Kinda.

I like the web presence thing.

I think I've had a good run, and the web has provided me an opportunity of leaving a smattering of a record, incomplete as it must be, for as long as the mediums may last. To whom, I don't care. It doesn't matter. But this blog was the first, and is sorta the hub, which is why it's kinda dear to me. It's the most secret, I don't link to it, I don't tell anyone about it, but I link out to more socially acceptable places for a more complete picture.

It's September.

I couldn't believe it when we hit August. I keep telling myself I can't go on much longer, and I really, simply can't. But I still have to remind myself for some ungodly reason.

Being dead in the water is one thing, but I'm not dead in the water. I'm suicidal. It's my credo. So if all other factors in my life point to dead in the water, suicide still should have some momentum. And it does. I tell myself.

I'm still zombified from insomnia. And listening to music is still the most precious thing to me.

Touched by a few things.

My high school mentor that I mentioned not long ago, who I found on Facebook, sent me a kalimba(!), reminding me that I once was a good person, good enough of a person to make enough of an impression that years and years later, he would send me an unsolicited gift that would move me near to tears. Kalimbas are his business now, but still, it was something he totally did not have to do.

I'm not that person anymore. I don't even like people. And people I meet now have no idea about that. They just know I keep them at arm's distance. King Kong's arm.

So why is my co-worker Tako being so friendly to me. Flirty? Nah, I'll stick with friendly. She's not flirty. But she seems to be aiming for some connection, but I don't think she has any idea how OLD I am. She is WAY young. When she asks how old I am, I'll tell her the truth straight out. Put an end to that real quick.

Eva, also a co-worker, may be more flirty. I'm not sure. Flirty implies not as serious, so maybe. I definitely don't mean any negative connotations associated with that word. To the extent that she may be flirty, it's very sweet; just chatting up, establishing some sort of perceived "understanding" between us, maybe. And I'm just as flirty to her.

She is someone who I didn't think was attractive at all when I first saw her, but upon closer scrutiny found that she's exquisitely and uniquely beautiful. Red flags went up when she mentioned she's Christian and doesn't listen to music, but I realize the red flag system is purely intellectual, and has no practical use, if you know what I mean.

Put either of them up against suicide and suicide prevails. I need to keep my focus, I need to follow the signs.

Even if they were something, some potential, it's too little, too late. If anything, they are just a final test of resolve. If they were something, they should have shown up years ago; but I've had more than 10 years of cultivating nothing of that sort.

So why should I react to them at all? Habit? Sadism? I'll cop-out with something Amina once said: It seemed right at the time. And there actually is wisdom in that. But it doesn't change a thing.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 1, 12:29 a.m. - It's fine to be funny in a headline if it's a fluff piece and undeniably says what's in the article.