There's a reason I've lived this long according to "chronic suicidal ideation" and I just got a reminder of it, albeit futile at this point. 

It was the most disturbing aspect of it as described in that video, which is that people with chronic suicidal ideation are chronically looking for reasons or excuses to keep living and keep taking them. It was disturbing because it's verifiably true in my case in the most ridiculous ways. 

I remember (if memory serves) back in San Francisco writing a journal entry why I wasn't going to end it all at one point because I had to pick up my photo prints from the Berkeley Extension that I had left at the darkroom to dry and also because Throwing Muses were coming to town and I definitely wanted to see them (they're a top five favorite band of mine). I'm sure I was being sarcastic in writing it down, mocking myself for such petty considerations. Theoretically, really anything could be an excuse.

A couple years back I posted something neurotic and nutty about not sending a birthday email to my older brother and why I wasn't going to send one, which then prompted me to send one at the last minute because I was getting so wrapped up in the concept of the birthday greeting and my reasons to not send one were so neurotic that it would just be dumb not to send one. Good grief.

I think the context was that we're not all that close and I hadn't sent him a birthday greeting in years, I don't quite remember. I didn't expect a reply and that would've been totally acceptable and normal for our relationship, but I also knew he just as well might reply because that would still be natural and just depended on how he felt. And he did send a polite and cordial reply. Last year I think I sent something that he didn't reply to and that was fine; it was year one of the CCP Wuhan pandavirus and as a doctor he was under a lot of stress and pressure. 

This year I forewent any nuttiness and planned on sending a birthday greeting as if it was a normal, routine, long-standing practice and without all that neurotic energy. And he replied that same day. I'm not sure what it was about his reply this time. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but it seemed unusually . . . attentive? engaged? thoughtful? But I don't want to suggest any of his other communications weren't those things if he feels he was just replying like normal. Often I can describe communications with family members with words like polite, cordial, obligatory or sincere, bare-minimum response. No response. This wasn't any of those and just felt a bit . . . more.

It could be my imagination or rather my chronically suicide-ideating mind that is constantly grasping for reasons to live on that's reading into it wot's not there. Unreasonable pangs of living a little longer and even visiting them as suggested? Check in with the kids and see if they remember me? Visit my aunt in New Jersey who has been warding off lung cancer for a number of years? Like my aunt in Kaohsiung she has always been kind to me and pleasant to visit. 

Back on planet earth the reality dawns that flying abroad probably requires a smartphone. I don't know, as useless as search engines have become (spearheaded by Google), I haven't been able to search if smartphones are required for international travel. The assumption of course is that everyone has a smartphone and search algorithms can't even conceive of that in returning results. 

That's why I haven't made any moves to get vaccinated. When measures were announced in English for virtually everyone to get vaccinated, the part involving a smartphone to schedule it put an end to my vaccination aspiration. Everyone has a smartphone, they don't need to provide alternative means. Yes, I do realize no one can relate to my outrage. Anyway I'll wait until enough people are vaccinated that it's simple enough to show up with ID and get a shot. I'll wait until they're waiting for me.

Ah, but futile. And wow I'm glad I don't have the money to do any of that. Mentally running through habit is one thing. Reality is another. Embracing reality sounds pretty good about now.

The amount and degree of miserableness continues to compound, and it's not even just personal anymore as the CCP pandemic is finally starting to get out of hand in Taiwan and stifling summer heat has arrived early. This is compound misery. 

It's been a long time since I've heard anyone call it anything aside from "Covid-19" since I no longer watch those China-watch YouTube channels (because they turned out to be unabashed pro-Trump conspiracy theorists during the election) which regularly called it the "CCP virus", placing descriptive attribution most accurately where it belonged. Even Taiwan media sometimes calls it "Covid-19" aside from the usual "Wuhan virus" or "coronavirus". That's how thorough Chinese Communist Party brainwashing and propaganda is with the collusion of the WHO. Don't kid yourself, if you call it "Covid-19", you're doing it because of the Chinese government whether that bothers you or not and there's nothing you can do about it. All the variants are named after source locations, i.e., India, South Africa, Brazil, UK variants, but where did the whole thing start? Of course . . . Covid, Estonia (*insert Chinese news source*). 

In a textbook example of "well that escalated quickly", northern Taiwan went straight to Level 3 (out of 4, which is lockdown) in a matter of days late last week. Masks must be worn at all times in public, limits on gatherings, recreation and nightlife shut down, and name and telephone information must be submitted wherever you go in case contact tracing becomes necessary. 

That last one is the point of anxiety for me, ergo misery, since I don't have a phone. I've been using my invalid old phone number just to get by, but that defeats the purpose and eats at my willingness to do my part. My account-less iPhone that my aunt gave me does receive emergency government texts and has a number associated with it, but it doesn't look like a Taiwanese number and I don't know if it can receive calls or texts sent to it. I once wrote down my email address, but even though that is the only way to contact me if my locations are traced, it also may draw unwanted attention and suspicion that might uncover the fact that I don't have a smartphone, which I've mentioned before ordinary people find incomprehensible to the point of being criminal or indicative of insanity. 

Of course, no one in my family has reached out asking how I'm getting by without a phone. I'd have to come to mind first before they reached out. That's all fine, I've given them no reason to come to mind and I'm neither their business nor responsibility and I have no expectations of them either. If they heard the news from northern Taiwan and thought of me, I'd be touched and grateful but contacting me would be unwarranted and likely awkward and uncomfortable and bottom line it's not like they could do anything anyway. 

And it's not like they don't have problems and anxieties of their own. Southern Taiwan is experiencing a crushing drought with water in their reservoirs beyond disturbingly, desperately low. I don't think Kaohsiung quite yet, but other places down south are already having their water turned off two days per week since April. They ironically need a typhoon direct hit which would fill their reservoirs (last year was the first year in about 56 years where Taiwan was not hit by a single typhoon). They need a potential disaster to prevent an impending disaster.

In a contrast in misery, the early arrival of summer heat is more of an ambient misery. Merely existing sucks once out of the constant air stream of a fan. I even turned on the A/C last week way earlier than usual, albeit only long enough to see if it still works and to take the edge off the heat in that moment when it got unbearable. After the no hot water and broken space heater debacle this past winter, I fully expected the A/C to not work and I still expect my fan to break at any moment. 

So many things compound to add to the list affirming "I don't want to be here anymore", but that's a list long in compilation and I'm still here so it can't mean much of anything until it does. But also long in development is that the misery isn't anything negative anymore. There may be an emotional component to it, but it's not dominant. Take away the emotional component and all that's left is the description or the fact of the misery. I'm not sure that makes sense or how it even really works. 

Mindfulness practice triggers a stop, breathe, and investigate the emotion and the rationality behind the negativity caused by misery. There is no rationality for negativity when the whole spectrum of life experiences are taken as having value, which I think might be a Vajrayana approach. It can suck but I don't have to be all negative about it. I do find myself stopping and breathing and investigating emotions quite a lot these days.

WordsCharactersReading time

WordsCharactersReading time

After what I said about not doing email communication with my parents, I'm actually copying and pasting (unedited) an email my mother sent recently that I didn't delete right away as I usual do:

How are you ?Last night I dream about you.You were planning to go out,I asked you that you need money but you didn’t answer, I started to search at master bedroom, I couldn’t find any money for you,Then I thought I could call Dad to help,but when I picked up the phone I found Dad already died in the mean time I waked up. I will send the check to you soon.Stay safe and healthy and happy.

She sent something worth mentioning? 

Well, no, not quite. More as a demonstration of how my mind works, my first thought was she had a premonition of my suicide, lol! The "planning to go out" and "didn't answer" is the symbolism for my leaving this life. Do I really think this is prescience or premonition? No. There are no mystical energy waves she's picking up about what's going on over here (trab pu kcip, trab pu kcip, yenom erom dnes, nemow sdeen sram, sorry my Malay incantations are really rusty). There is no deep mother-child connection giving her insight into something "only a mother would know". To suggest she suddenly is in tune or developed an intuitive *fifth sense* that she's never had before is just pretty funny if not ridiculous. 

So how is she interpreting the dream that she feels the unusual need to tell me about it and send money? I have no idea and can only speculate. It could be pretty mundane. It could be subconscious passive-aggression remnant from the past, not as virulent as it used to be but still part of her habit energies (probably not totally benign, but not at all malicious this late in the game and age). I'm pretty sure there's not a glimmer of thought in her mind that suicide is anywhere in my reality. 

Her automatic reaction to send money would be funny if it weren't just tiresome, and could also suggest possible habitual machinations that are old news and not worth delving into. Or not, I have no idea. I still have a bunch of undated checks from long ago that I decided not to act upon, and she sent something at the turn of the year, presumably a check, that she tried to guilt me for ingratitude because I hadn't acknowledged receiving it and thanking her for it. The truth was she sent it without telling me, and she doesn't know that no one here expects to receive anything through the post so the mailbox is perpetually filled with junkmail that gets cleared out maybe once a month. After I confirmed receiving it and thanked her, I tucked it aside without even opening it. 

So now because of that dream or whatever subconsciously-triggered reason, she's sending more checks and I'll be sure to look out for them this time and acknowledge receipt and thank her; I wasn't committing to suicide in the next week anyway. Anyway at this point, if I went to the bank now to try to execute the overseas transfer of money through a check, it wouldn't go through before my current funds run out, so these checks are monetarily worthless (although I do actually appreciate the gesture). 

If my parents had wanted to be monetarily worth something, they shouldn't have taken back that huge amount they deposited into my bank account many years ago. That's an old story, but a long time ago they sold their stock in my grandfather's bus company or something and had my aunt put the money into my bank account, presumably to avoid taxes. They put it in my account so I simply considered it a huge windfall, but I didn't go crazy and start living a life of luxury or indulge in that Lambo I've always coveted (OK, maybe it wasn't that much money but I didn't even buy a new bike). 

If they had left it there, it was an amount that would have sustained me way beyond their lifetimes, nevermind mine. But it just wasn't in their habitual capitalist character to have a chunk of money laying around somewhere and not have it working for them in some way. It took several years during which I lived off of it, but they eventually took it back, as was their completely fair right to do so, to buy some building of rare family sentimental value in Kaohsiung. I've never known my parents to be sentimental about anything, not even their own lives or history. At the time they talked about what the building was and what it meant to them more extensively than they needed to, as if they were justifying to me why they were taking their money back. They didn't need to justify anything, it was their money! 

I didn't feel anything against them when they took it back and cooperated fully once they made it clear they were removing the money from my account. However, I think it was at that point that I started calculating how much time I had left based on what was left in my bank account (US$1000/NT$30,000 = 1 month). I haven't heard anything about that building since, and the "time I had left" since then has only been extended by their contributions that required me going to the bank and transferring money from the States. I stopped doing that when it became too frustrating and humiliating even for me.

Maybe I'm the one sounding passive-aggressive here, maybe so, but these are also simply my facts as I know them. To the extent I'm being passive-aggressive is just supposed to be ironic and/or sarcastic.

But wow, if they had left the money (or any significant amount) in my account, what a nightmare or personal disaster it would be for me now (no sarcasm here). Well, it's possible I'd just continue cruising along as long as there was money and I wouldn't think of it as a disaster. I would just deal with the total pathetic mess my life appears to be looking around me, falling apart or deteriorating in multiple facets, misery symbolized perhaps by no hot water during the winter and the broken toe (which still hurts three weeks later but is much better, I can even savor this level of pain, thanks for asking). Looking at my life situation that way, running out of money has an aspect of great relief.

As I've opined before, money may karmically not be a consideration in this current lifetime; maybe in the past, maybe in the future but not now. So it's either ironic or poetic that money is the ultimate trigger to bring chronic suicidal ideation to fruition. Well, if it happens. 

Not to put too fine a point on it, I actually still have over US$6,000 cash in hand but it's too old to convert. The cash is inconvertible. It is incontrovertible that the cash is inconvertible! The bills are so old – lacking all the fancy holographic watermarks and colored fibers that make them hard to counterfeit – that banks here won't accept them. Their machines can't count them. They need to go back to where they came from to a bank in the U.S. to be exchanged for new, modern bills. I'll leave a note on the stash to that effect and however whoever wants to handle what happens is otherwise out of my hands. None of my business.

The six grand is useless to me, but that's OK since it's also meaningless. Six grand would've just been more buffer that I neither need nor want. I appreciate that six grand may be a considerable amount for someone just getting by and wants to live, but my history suggests I would not use it nobly nor to the benefit of anyone else, but rather just exhaust it like I have all my funds before it just to live a few months longer only to arrive where I am now. None of my business. 

WordsCharactersReading time

strange parents

In addition to "chronic suicidal ideation", I also recently learned about parental estrangement from a blog! Parental estrangement is not so much a psychological defect or condition (unless you're coming from the specific perspective of either the parent or child in the arrangement, and it's always the other that has it), but rather seems to be a phenomenon that mental health experts observe and explain to parents who experience it and describe it during therapy. 

I, of course, am not on the receiving end of parental estrangement, but rather the giver, the creator, the . . . disher of it. It's interesting to read about a parent (one in my age range no less) on the receiving end, although any parent who blogs about it is already cooler and perhaps less deserving of it than one who is clueless and feels indignant self-pity when a child finally says, "fuh dis shit, later for you". 

I'm not judging, but the author of the linked post seems halfway in between. She's aware and funny with the "slap her upside her head and tell her to call her mother" line, which seems to be the type that would make me roll my eyes and call, but she also admits to red lines crossed that if you don't recognize are intolerable it's hard to gain sympathy regarding whatever reaction manifests and you might never understand it to your own detriment (i.e., you may be smart and funny, but you still crazy (or in adult language, you don't respect what they want respected)). 

I'd also be wary about the estrangement "for no apparent reason" line. My robot vacuum cleaner comes right at me every single time I stop paying attention to it for no apparent reason. I focus on the computer screen for 15 seconds and suddenly it's bumping against my heel. True, I don't know what its childhood trauma is, but I assure you it does this for no apparent reason. Of course the line isn't implying there's no reason, just no apparent reason; a reason indiscernible to a parent. The reason is boldly there right on its face. 

I suppose reading about the phenomena from the "other side" point of view makes me feel the slightest bit of sympathy towards my own mother, but not really. Just the slightest bit. More like "OK there's another side, but I don't really care". Furthermore, I haven't really ghosted my mother, per se. Never when I had a phone did I have a blanket policy of not answering when she called, that's too rude even for me. I had a selective policy of not answering.

It just so happened by total coincidence that a few months after my father died in late 2016, Taiwan discontinued 2G phone service and I simply had no reason or desire to upgrade to 4G, ergo no more phone communication with or phone anything for me. I don't know whether my father's dying had anything to do with my abandoning phone services, I rarely if ever talked to him on the phone. Nevertheless it's possible if not probable, such are the complications of parent-child relations. I consider my parents a single entity and his presence/absence certainly must have had some influence/impact.

Instead she eventually took to sending emails. This part is too fuzzy and convoluted to go into, but email communication between us was just never going to happen. My parents never established that sort of relationship between us and it was just too awkward to react to emails in any other way than to skim in case of anything important and immediately delete them. If something she sent required some direct response, I'd respond with the absolute minimum of what needed to be said. 

It's a reap what you sow thing. We simply effectively have no history of written communication, and she simply doesn't have the English skills for it. I already dumb down my speaking for her, but I wouldn't extend that to writing where I can't get immediate feedback on how much she's not understanding. And when conversations can become infuriating simply by merely brushing a taboo subject (i.e., my life) or questioning what is not in her realm or rights to question (i.e., asking "why?" in response to anything), why prolong them by carrying them out in writing? I may be self-destructive but I'm not masochistic.

This all is perhaps an example of what I meant about "psychological defect or disorder" imputed to the "specific perspective of either parent or child". This is old news and hardly a dear topic, yet I still get sucked into it and go a little crazy just from someone blogging about it as something new to my ears. 

It's an age-old waltz, a futile game of guilt and blame. I purportedly don't feel any guilt regarding my role, but here I am feeling like explaining myself as if I have something to convince. I tell myself I don't blame my parents and would prefer to not carry that karma into future lifetimes, but I obviously haven't released all attachment to the issues. I'm hoping to release the karma partly through intent and reminding myself not to blame anyone for anything, but I probably could do more to manifest it in this present lifetime (i.e., stop carrying it around like a stone by blogging about it). 

Likewise, I don't expect my parents to feel guilty about anything and I have no evidence that they do aside from being unsuccessful in making me become a doctor or lawyer. Whether they blame me for anything is not my business and wouldn't elicit any reaction in me anyway. I don't know what my mother would think about this thing called "parental estrangement", whether she'd feel validated or disassociate from it since it has any relationship with the mental health field. She of course is the model of perfect normalcy for whom the suggestion of therapy is a deep insult. There I go again. And I'm not about to solve or resolve anything for myself or anyone else by writing about it so . . . better to stop while I'm behind.

WordsCharactersReading time

WordsCharactersReading time

I found I can "hijack" hot water for a bit from my neighbor. My room shares a wall with my neighbor's bathroom, so I can hear when water is running in his bathroom. By total coincidence, once when I was washing my hands I suddenly was miraculously getting warm and then hot water! My stars, I was shocked! I didn't know what to make of it or what to do, but when I exited my bathroom I could hear my neighbor's shower running through the wall on the opposite side of the room and started putting it together. Several times thereafter if I heard his shower running, I would go check whether I could get hot water and it worked every time. I began formulating what I could do to exploit this situation.

The hot water doesn't last long enough for a full shower and he takes showers several hours earlier than I do, but just touching, feeling, caressing, . . . light petting the hot water was doing wonders for my psyche. I've therefore decided to bifurcate my showers and rearranged my routine so that during the window of time I expect him to be taking showers, I don't have ear buds jammed in my ears and when I hear his shower running, I go and wash my hair and face with glorious hot water! Only my head gets wet and it takes just a few minutes.

Several hours later when I usually take my showers, I finish off the job under cold water which I can do very quickly. I'm probably under cold water for less than 2 or 3 minutes; head stays dry. I still have the "AUUUGGGHHH!!!!" mentality of jumping into a cold river at first, but I've also started working on transforming any negative, virulent energy into something like loving-kindness. It sucks, it's cold, it's miserable, but instead of reacting negatively emotionally I try focusing on a positive attitude. 

At first I tried focusing the energy as loving-kindness to all humanity as teachings encourage, but I'm not the Dalai Lama and have you seen the news lately? Loving-kindness to all humanity in a sincere manner is honestly just not in my capacity of courage. So then I tried something easier like my cousin Audrey who has been all but useless lately and has made it clear we have no relationship . . . yup, aiming it at her still works. And then my mother who occasionally sends photos with my brother's family in mass emails that I never respond to, but despite being the only person making any kind of contact is the last person I want anything to do with . . . yes, she actually qualifies! Sounds like strange psychology going on but I'm not sure this is psychology as much as dharma, or even karma. It occurred to me and it worked/happened without resistance or disgust. Strange things happen when stripped down to desperation or personally challenging extremes.

I don't know how my neighbor is affected nor if he's getting seriously pissed off nightly when his hot water drops off in the shower. I know nothing about plumbing, but from my experience living here two showers competing for hot water at the same time means everyone's quality and expectations are compromised. Yes, I feel like an asshole knowing my actions are possibly causing him anger, but . . . dude, it's hot water. 

What I don't know is how he'll react as this situation continues. I'd be surprised if he just tolerates it – he's paying rent which implicitly includes hot water and if he's losing hot water during showers, that's a problem. I don't know how he'd be able to figure out I'm the culprit. He might complain to the landlord but I don't know how they'd be able to pinpoint me as the source of his problem. Just testing his water without me running mine and there's no problem. But then they might guess that someone else must be running water at the same time every night and end up knocking on my door and directly asking me, which is a horrifying thought. I don't know how that conversation would go unless my neighbor speaks English, although it might be an opportunity for me to tell someone I have no hot water at all. If they fix that, I stop interfering with his showers and he's happy and I go back to taking hot showers after midnight and I'm happy. 

But that's just wishful thinking. I just have a feeling my hot water-siphoning won't be maintained for the rest of winter and he'll do something to stymie it. And I'll still have no hot water. Why do I think that way? Am I being unreasonably negative? Go ask the universe.

Strange. Contrary to the theme of my relatives not wanting me to have anything to do with their kids, which I'm wondering whether it's all in my mind, my sister-in-law just sent me this pic. It killed me to crop out my niece's face, but my sister-in-law once upbraided me for uploading a pic when she was but a baby and she has since given no indication that injunction is no longer in force. She's almost 14 now, so if anything it's even more absolute that I would need specific permission to upload any picture of her. 

She said this puzzle was one of the first things Tessa pulled out to do when New Jersey went under lockdown for the CCP pandemic. I got this for Tessa's birthday no less than 5 years ago. At the time I knew she was too young for it, but as always, then as now, I couldn't say when I would have another opportunity to give it to her. I fully expected the pieces to be scattered far afield in the chaos of childhood with four siblings in total, only to be found years later in various rooms, closets and cupboards of their house or lost in vacuuming or cracks in the sideboard. 

I love the painting, Georges Seurat's Sunday Afternoon on La Grande Jatte, in no small part due to the Sondheim musical Sunday in the Park with George (which I've geeked out about long ago in the early days of this blog). I've been collecting pieces with the painting on it for years, but it's gotten quite pointless (hahaha! geddit? pointless? ugh *clunk*) given my life circumstances. When I saw the jigsaw puzzle in Taiwan, my first thought was "me want", followed quickly with "but vhy? (Transylvanian accent)". So then I thought to get it as a present and give it to one of my brothers' kids. I felt it would be passing something on even though they wouldn't know why or the meaning it has for me.

So I was moved and tickled pink to see that Tessa had kept the pieces intact all these years (with help from her mom, no doubt) and finally completed the puzzle and that she's growing into a mature young lady, about to enter high school in the fall, CCP virus willing.

Still, I wonder about my sister-in-law and other brother sending me something about their kids for the first time ever recently. Also the smattering of superficial contacts by random people. And meeting up with both of the people I know in Taipei (I met up with the French guy last week). I doubt it has anything to do with the CCP virus and people wanting to connect in a time of crisis. I'm no doubt the bottom of the barrel of people anyone would want to contact for connection. Maybe some confluence in the universe resonating into these occurrences. They don't mean anything, they just happen.

On a sidenote, Stephen Sondheim's 90th birthday happened during the CCP pandemic and an online "concert" was organized amid the lockdown to celebrate it. Apparently even the critics who had doubts about it were impressed by the quality, and even people who don't like "show tunes" can appreciate the sheer brilliance of the songwriting in the way they are presented and described by the participants. Whenever participants described Sondheim's impact on their lives and career, I would think, "me too", even though it didn't become my life or career. From Broadway star to Hollywood celebrity to simple appreciative fan, Sondheim made us all equals in awe of greatness and the immeasurable gift he has given to American music and theater.

Hm. I guess this is a follow-up to my previous post. I responded to my former Mandarin teacher and we met up for an afternoon at a Starbucks. We met wearing masks, but abandoned them once we sat down. Seating is restricted in public places with seats marked off as not to be used to enforce social distancing, but we managed to snag a table just as other people were leaving. We discussed the current CCP virus situation and compared notes and she was impressed by how on top of the information I was, which gave me reassurance that the English-language news I'm getting is accurately mirroring what's in the Taiwanese press. And actually most English-language news is merely translated from local reports; they mostly don't have their own reporters in the field. 

We reflected on how we're in one of the safest places to be in the world, thanks to quick thinking and action by the government and fundamental mistrust of anything the Chinese Communist Party says (assumption that they're lying is just as fundamental as any intelligent American assuming Trump has no idea what he's talking about or doing (ironically, except about China)). One thing Taiwan is missing out on is reports of cleaner air and waterways and nature re-asserting itself once disruptive human activity is curtailed. Our traffic, noise and air pollution is for most part the same as usual.

We agreed that the government hasn't been absolutely 100% PERFECT with two slip-ups that could've gotten out of control and we were just lucky they didn't. In early April, Taiwan has a tomb-sweeping holiday where people are supposed to go to the graves of their ancestors and clean them up and pay respects (remembering both where you came from and where you're going, maybe). Social distancing went out the door and the government wasn't fervent enough about telling people to be vigilant and there was a public worry that asymptomatic cases could have been spread during all that contact.

The second was a navy vessel returning from a mission and it turned out there was an outbreak onboard with sailors allowed into the general population without proper quarantine upon arrival. The government quickly gathered information on all the places every sailor went throughout the country and created a map of hotspots that they released to the public, informing them if they had been at those places at certain times, they needed to monitor their health for any sign of the CCP virus. Every contact that any of the sailors had, numbering in the thousands, were contacted and instructed to self-quarantine. As the military should have heightened responsibility, appropriate reprimands were issued (actually I think the defense minister requested to be reprimanded).

To date, only sailors aboard the ship have been confirmed with the CCP virus, 31 in all bumping the total number of cases in Taiwan to 429. Since no one in the general public appears to have contracted it from them, I consider the navy case a closed system, and the number of cases in Taiwan to reasonably be considered 398, under an artificial benchmark of 400. 

I mentioned I didn't expect to hear from my sister-in-law until next year, but she sent one of her usual emails and it was substantive enough that it will take several months for me to respond, putting our correspondence back on its twice-a-year schedule.

And out of the blue, my second oldest brother, the one who seems to want nothing to do with us, or me at least, but will act appropriately when he has to, sent me a YouTube video that his son made of himself playing a violin trio by/with himself. My brother had mentioned he was learning bassoon, but never mentioned violin. I will respond appropriately with genuine praise and appreciation of the performance, but what may be interesting is this is the first time anyone has shown interest in me showing interest in the kids. Obviously if I show no interest in the kids, I have no right to complain about any of their lack of communication with me. Their kids are their lives, and if I show no interest in the kids, I don't deserve any attention. 

Before this, neither of my brothers or the aforesaid sister-in-law nor my cousin Audrey have tried to interest or prompt me about their children. Quite the opposite, whereas parents would seem to want to brag about their kids and involve relatives in their lives, I've gotten nothing from them about their kids. Audrey is especially egregious since she knows how much I love her children, but they've totally forgotten who I am and the last time I saw them they couldn't even acknowledge having known me. It isn't missed on me that no one has provided updates on the kids for me to respond to. Or it may be me. Similar to how I've given the impression to people I know in Taipei that I don't want to hang out, I may have projected to them that I have no interest in their kids, even though I've always responded to any news they gave about them. Bottom line, I'm not complaining, no fault to them. Things just are as they are, and of course there's my credo not to be something to someone and then disappear, which is my perpetual end-game. 

Finally, what I said about that French guy, I recently discovered a place selling Vietnamese banh mi sandwiches. Vietnam, of course, was once a French colony and banh mi sandwiches famously use French bread and the quality of the sandwich depends on the quality of the bread (i.e., requires a French person's seal of approval). I know my friend appreciates banh mi so I shot him an out-of-the-blue email about the place and he responded that he would be going there the next day with his family, describing his infant daughter as a French bread monster. He suggested meeting up for lunch sometime soon, and per what I said in my last post, I guess I have to accept.

It's the third day of the Lunar New Year that I've spent in a wonderful solitude. With everyone else living on this floor gone, I've felt a bit more like a hermit. Even though I usually avoid contact with them and have no idea what they even look like, I'm always aware of them when they're around as I can hear their comings and goings. The first three days are the official holiday, and days four to six are when things start getting back to normal. It's possible everyone will remain gone until Wednesday, it's possible they might start floating back tomorrow. I'll know when they return because I will hear them.

My mother was in town last weekend for several days. She had been on a cruise, disembarking in Singapore, and flew to Taipei for a few days before flying back to the U.S. My uncle came up from Kaohsiung to spend time with her. I think his thinking may have been that they're getting old, no one knows when will be the last time they see each other, so take advantage of every opportunity to meet up. Neither of them I figure for being sentimental types, but it's possible. I don't know him that well really. She's definitely not. She said she came to see me, but the truth is we can only stand each other for a few hours at a time so maybe she did ask him to come up. She still thinks I'm working so I always have an excuse to bail, and true to her own work ethic, she would never prioritize herself over someone else's job.

On her last day here (she was flying out in the afternoon), she expected to meet up with me at lunch and initially said that my uncle wouldn't be with us because his son, my cousin Gary, was flying in that morning from mainland China for Lunar New Year and so he would meet up with him and they'd go directly to Kaohsiung by HSR. I had to brace for one more excruciating lunch without his buffer. 

But then prior to that, I realized that didn't make sense. Gary was flying into the airport that my mother was flying out of later that day and they weren't going to meet up? My mother doesn't give a rat's ass – not the sentimental type, I said – but Gary has something like an overblown sense of responsibility and family decorum almost to a fault. In his mind, if there was a chance to meet his aunt (who sat at the table of honor at his wedding), even if only for a few hours, he was going to make it happen. Turns out I was right and when I arrived at the hotel, my uncle was still there and Gary and his 10 year old son were on their way from the airport by MRT to Taipei for us to have lunch before they departed for Kaohsiung, my mother to the airport, and me . . . to "work", of course. I didn't even have time to accompany them to the airport.

There was some discomfort as to why I wasn't going to Kaohsiung for New Years until I came up with the excuse that I had already volunteered to work over the holiday since I was basically a foreigner and the Lunar New Year didn't mean as much to me. I'm a terrible liar, and of course when you start lying you have to back it up, and I hadn't prepped myself for Gary (whose English is decent) to get inquisitive about my job and my having to make things up on the spot, particularly difficult since The China Post went under as a physical paper many years ago (it may still be online, but if it is it's no longer a major news player in Taiwan).  

But there really was no way I would go to Kaohsiung for the holiday. As has happened before, whenever I'm placed in an extended family setting I have to keep my mouth shut. If I selfishly open my mouth to say something, whatever conversation had been going on had to stop and focus on me, the only English-only speaker. I prefer to consider myself persona non grata. I haven't heard from Gary's sister, Audrey, any time recently. I have no idea where she lives now nor whether she's flying in for the New Year, and if she has no expectation of meeting up with me, then really no one does or even should. 

As far as family is concerned, all is as should be. My sister-in-law and I used to email each other twice a year but she didn't at all last year. Doesn't mean she won't, but I ain't expecting anything. I did send that birthday greeting to my brother in July and he responded, but proper form between us meant that was all – greeting and response, it wasn't supposed to be a communication or continued exchange. 

Sometimes I think I just have to face that these people just don't like me, lol! And there's no reason for them to like me, I give them no reason to think I want them to like me. Theoretically I know I can contact anyone at any time about whatever, but my principle of don't be something to someone and then disappear prevents, since my disappearing is always an option or an intention, even if not likely or immediately manifesting. What's their excuse for not contacting me? Maybe I'm lacking in imagination, but the foremost reason is they don't wanna because they just don't like me, lol! Why would you contact someone you don't like? Why wouldn't you contact someone you like and haven't heard from in years?

I know relationships are complicated and this line of thinking is totally faulty. I have friends I've been out of contact for years and nothing is preventing me from saying 'hi', but I don't. Saying 'hi' isn't being something to someone, it's just saying 'hi'. I can say 'hi' and kill myself the next day and it would just be what it would be. No different with family. You just expect them to be there merrily rolling along. No one knows when will be the last time they see each other, so there's no reason to think there won't be a next time.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 2, 2019,1:54 p.m. - They day I found out The Living Mall had died closed.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 23, 2019, 3:13 p.m. - Sanmin Branch Taipei Public Library, 6th fl. photostitch.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 28, 2019, 3:03 p.m. - Through a window on a side street.

3:23 p.m. - The dead Living Mall from the southeast side, access fenced up. It kinda resembles the Jawa sandcrawlers on this side. Total coincident that the sphere on the other side looks like the Death Star.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 30, 2019, 2:55 p.m. - Temple on Ba De Rd.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 4, 1:43 p.m. - And all the crap on the plaza outside The Living Mall that obscured appreciation of the architecture.

I don't know why, but for the past few weeks I'd been thinking about sending my second older brother a birthday greeting email this year. He's the one who has de facto cut contact, whatever that means. I don't know if it's just with me or if it's the same with other family members, meaning he won't contact them first, but will respond appropriately if contacted. He'll behave appropriately if they visit, but only visits them in the course of going somewhere else. Maybe he never calls them to chat. Maybe he does? Does his family make family visits just to visit (the distance is from Philly to NY)? I just don't know, I have no idea what their relationship is. I only know that I'm persona non grata. And that's it, I don't know the reason or the feeling behind it or if even there is a feeling behind it or just a cold decision he made that he'll be courteous if I happen to be present (physically or electronically), but otherwise he wants nothing to do with me.

But since I "just don't know", maybe I'm not being fair in making any uninformed assessment just based on what it sorta kinda looks like feels like to me. I don't know what he actually thinks. And after all, he is the brother I've said has complete immunity in whatever he does in regard to me, I will always consider him . . . positively. I'll always say he was a good older brother. That goes with my oldest brother now, too. 

<real time>OK, I sent the damn birthday greeting email</real time>

Writing all that above made me say 'just send the damn birthday greeting while it's still his birthday over there' (hour'n half left). But now I'm gonna continue this post and regret sending it, because the assumption when starting this post was that I didn't send him the greeting and go on about why. 

But now there's no more point to this post since I sent the greeting; that changes everything. I was gonna mention my old idea of don't be something to someone when you're considering removing yourself being here permanently. The way things are going I'll be around for at least the next 500 years, but my everyday is always asking and looking for when and why not now.

I was gonna mention that our status is actually such that we can drop an email out of the blue and it wouldn't be a stunner. And now that I've sent the greeting, no, he won't be stunned by it. He may or may not reply to it. I'm guessing he'll neither be pleased nor displeased by it. It just is what it is. If he wants to respond, he will; if he doesn't want to, he doesn't have to. Full immunity, he can do no wrong. 

I was gonna mention that his birthday occurs during the Tour de France and he's a true cycling buff, so I could mention the tour in the email and it wouldn't be awkward just saying happy birthday and other generic pleasantries about the weather. And I did write briefly about the tour since there have been fireworks to get excited about.

That's so funny how I started this post with a good idea of where it would go, but then once the central assumption disappeared midway, I'm having trouble remembering what I was going to write about. Story of my life? Par for the course? Cliché?

I don't know why, but for the past few weeks I'd been thinking about sending my second older brother a birthday greeting email this year. But even while considering it, I knew I wouldn't actually send it. It was just good intentions; an exercise in sibling relations that in recent years might reasonably be described as "estranged" or "non-existent". My oldest brother and I still send obligatory birthday greetings, although this year he didn't even respond to mine with the obligatory thanks, the wife and kids and the weather are fine. My second oldest brother, we haven't at all in years. 

I think maybe I was considering it in more of a "because I can" way, that whatever frost, if one can call it that, has descended upon our siblingship, it's not of the nature that neither of us couldn't drop a random birthday greeting any year it dawned on us to do so. It was a mental exercise in potential and possibility; when you think of doing something you don't ordinarily do and can think of dozens of reasons why not, but then do it because . . . why not? It's a left turn, and my life paradigm when I was much younger was "always take the left turn". The left turn is the unknown, the adventure, the risk. Going straight is safe and boring, predictable. 

But that's potential, this is reality, and reality says don't send it; there's nothing wrong with safe, boring and predictable. There's no actual, active relationship between us. What would I be doing or saying by breaking radio silence and sending it? Hey, I'm here? Hey, I've been thinking about you? Neither of us cares about that sorta shit and might lead to further unexpected, unwanted consequences and communications. And besides, my current life purpose is to land all of my relations exactly where ours is, why would I mess with that? If I manage to commit suicide, people should have to wonder when was the last time they heard from me, and that's supposed to be the primary descriptive of our relationship.

Whatever, I'm just gonna send the damn birthday greeting email.

One of the benefits of not having a phone is that my mother can no longer call. After my father died, it became even more clear that we don't understand nor like each other and we can't communicate without insulting each other, both intentionally and unintentionally, and phone calls would at best be barely civil and would always be frustrating and negative. They would revert back to the days when they were overtly strained and awkward and didn't last long because I had nothing to say to them and no interest in what they said. It was a fortunate coincidence that just a few months after my father died, Taiwan ended 2G phone service and I simply refused to upgrade because I didn't need nor cared to.

On my part, I would be perfectly content to never hear from her again. I can't speak for her part, but for whatever reason (habit? investment?), she feels compelled to try to remain in touch, and that, unfortunately, has led her to start sending emails. Early on, I overreacted to an overture to go on a cruise, but I learned quickly if I just ignore them, that's taken as a response and there's no follow-up. Now when I get an email, I typically glance at it just to get the gist and immediately delete it. Sometimes she sends photos of my brothers' families, but if they don't send photos themselves, obviously they don't care if I have photos of them or not and they get deleted after I see how the kids are growing.

There was one photo she sent not long ago of the monument that she had made for my father, and since it is quite large, I think she has it in mind that this is a family . . . thing. As family members die off, they and their dates get added to the monument. The concept was mentioned when I was last there when my father died in November 2016, and I was horrified by the thought of some attachment to them for all eternity.

If I had my druthers, I would just disappear without a trace and I wouldn't care whatever they put on the monument. It has nothing to do with me. I don't care what name they use, and the end date would only be the year since an exact date couldn't be pinpointed. What I would want, though, is the URL of this blog under my name and dates. I wonder how many tombstones have internet URLs on them. I'm sure it's been done.

The question for me, though, is how do I get this URL on the fucking monument. If I leave a note mentioning that's what I want, that would direct people to this blog, which I don't want to do. I'm not hiding it, I do assume it will be found, but I want it to be found without my having to direct people to it. I'm being totally neurotic. And once they find it, they'll find this last willful testament that I want this URL on any marker they insist on making for me, and they'll have to do it or else it will be a clear diss at me in my afterlife and all of eternity! You want that on you?

Actually, if they find this blog, they'll have an exact end date. Or, like Kurt Cobain, close enough.

End of September. I read a local news article recently that confirmed what I felt about this summer that Taipei wasn't as hot as it has been for the past however many years; what I termed "hell hot". This summer was normal Taipei summer heat. It was blazing hot, but it was normal Taipei summer blazing hot. It wasn't hell hot and it turns out I can tell the difference. Because of the past few years, I would brace myself for hell hot heading out, but once outside there wasn't the immediate impulse to get out of the heat as fast as possible. It would be hot, but it was hot that I'd be taking my bike out for a ride in the years before the hell hot started.

Actually, weather has been rather unusual since winter, which was mild and dry compared to previous years in memory. And unusually dry weather continued to characterize the bulk of this year. Even during the springtime Plum Rains, there would be showers for a few days and then break. I'm usually griping about the solid blocks of rain for weeks in Taipei, but this year has not only been great and relatively dry, but there haven't been any drought warnings, either. No worries. Typhoons have been avoiding Taipei, either missing south and plowing into the Philippines or veering north towards recently disaster-prone Japan. Taipei has been grazed by non-events. Southern Taiwan hasn't been so lucky.

Rain has returned in the past month, so weather may be returning to normal crummy Taipei weather. The summer heat has broken with less drama than hell hot summers. Air conditioning has been turned off without fanfare, and even fan usage habit was easy to break. I anticipate within a week I'll sleep under covers for the first time in months. Change.

I wonder what change I'm prepared for. Earlier this year, I wrongly anticipated my bank account would run out not too long beyond June. A scenario developed that would keep me going without change well into next year. That scenario is on track, but hasn't manifested just yet; I'll see next month. If it doesn't manifest, no problem; I'll have loomage and change that I'm well-prepared for.

But since my life has a habit of not going my way, I have to think about change like . . . getting new eyeglasses. It's easily been over six or seven years that I've had this prescription and silly red frames that just don't suit me. I also need a new wardrobe of shirts. Early on, my uniform in Taiwan became light fabric, short-sleeve, button-down shirts. I never wore these in the U.S. Not only am I getting too fat for the shirts I have with paunch becoming embarrassingly obvious, but they're starting to fray and shred because of Taiwan's climate, I assume. I've never had shirts do that before. Fabric just disintegrating.

I'm not sure what other kind of change I expect in the coming year. Visiting the U.S.? Have things gotten so low that I'm willing to do that? Do I re-establish contact with . . . with whom? Audrey? If I haven't connected with her since we last connected, why would I in particular in the coming year? I do have to reply to an email from my sister-in-law, but that's not a change. We actually have a regular email correspondence: twice a year, I don't know if it's intentional. I don't know if she writes because she wants to or if she feels she has to and twice is the bare minimum she can manage. I don't know if she would like to write more but is too busy. But twice a year, one around the holidays and then another one further down the year; I respond roughly halfway in between those emails, so I'm currently a little tardy.

Nah, maybe I should just anticipate a forthcoming year with no change, keep floating along. If life wants to throw me a curve ball, whatever. See if I care. Or please!

I live on the third floor of a residential low-rise in a flat sub-divided into four discrete apartments. I don't know any of my neighbors. I don't know what they look like. Very rarely we might pass one another coming or going. I wouldn't recognize them passing on the street. I don't know anything about them except their audible departure routines in the morning or when they deviate from it.

When I contemplate my demise scenarios, it's safe to say there would be little impact on them except in the unfortunate circumstance if I bite it in my apartment. If I don't leave a body in my apartment, there would be little to no disruption or disturbance in their lives beyond the bustle of the disposal of my belongings.

They know just as little about me, and flipping the scenario I would experience little disruption or disturbance if any of them were to no longer be among the living. If they died in their apartment, I don't think any of them are so disconnected and isolated like me that people wouldn't come looking for them before olfactory factors became necessary to alert the world of their passing. Whatever the scenario, the bottom line is I wouldn't be very much affected.

There are two people in Taipei that I know and have met with socially in the past . . . let's say five years, albeit rarely. If either of them died, I don't know how the news would even get to me, and it's not a stretch that it just wouldn't. I just wouldn't find out. Exactly the same if I were to die.

I have a nominal facebook presence. Again, no one there would know if I died unless someone plied my computer post-mortem and stumbled across my page and were to tactlessly and tastelessly announce it to a reply chorus of "aw gee, that's too bad" at best. Any announcement to inform my contacts would have to be made on my page, so that's pretty freaky. Speaking from the grave. That's actually a great idea. Write the announcement in my voice. Get creative.

And on the flipside, if any of most of the couple dozen contacts I have were to die, . . . well, I'd probably at least know about it. Some are as active as me on facebook or even less and maybe there would be no one to mention them dying. But my response couldn't be much more than "aw gee, that's too bad". I'm not involved in their lives. I don't make contact with them or try to be more than an abstract, internet presence. Even people I've known from long ago who were much more than "facebook friends", we're not present to each other now. Effectively "aw gee, that's too bad" friends.

Finally, all that's left to contemplate is a few family members. What if Audrey or any of my cousins or either of my brothers committed suicide? There's no reason for me to think any of them would, but none of them thinks I would, either. It's impossible to really know what it would feel like, even going deep into the scenario in meditation, but I'm having trouble imagining myself reacting much differently than how I would expect them to react if I died.

Whatever impact there is, it would be something to experience and then pass. It would pass. Again, there's no involvement in each other's lives. If I died, what difference would there be in their lives except the knowledge that I'm now dead? If any of them died, what difference would there be in my life? Only the expectation that they're out there and available for a possible hypothetical future meeting up? Not good enough. If they care, they should be present. If I care, I should be present. We're not present, so we don't care. Voilá, we have a meeting of the minds.

I had to go down to Kaohsiung yesterday for some family bullshit issue. It falls under the category of "none of my business" and was at worst an inconvenience pulling me away from my dearly held daily routine. It wasn't the type of family chaos my mother embodies. It's the kind of thing likely many people have to go through at some point, so I'm not complaining.

I was just a pawn. I, along with other grandchildren, inherited property from our grandfather many moons ago for some legal reason, probably to avoid taxes. Now our parents, who have the real interest in the real estate, need us to sign over power of attorney to them. None of my business, of course I'll do what needs to be done, even if it means departing from my dearly held daily routine.

However, the inconvenience was an opportunity to activate mindfulness practice outside of my dearly held daily routine. I was actually surprised how good I was at identifying everything I was feeling moment to moment and what was going on all throughout my body as energies and applying the practice. All of it illusory and easily brushed aside.

Stress? Nope, it's unreasonable (or I'm aware of it and allowing it). Worst case scenarios? Nope, wrong attitude. Just do the right thing given any situation. The one thing I had to be insistent upon was that I was returning to Taipei the same day, and I did the smart thing in buying a non-reserved seating return ticket as soon as I arrived in Kaohsiung. I could take any train home, but it had to be that day. I don't know why anyone would think I was staying for more than one day.

Watching energies is, I think, a Tibetan Vajrayana practice which requires a teacher and initiation, so I make no claim that I'm doing it right. I'm just going by intuition with a vague belief that I've received initiations in previous lives. All I'm doing in this life is trying to review and maintain them without screwing anything up until I go back to accepting the idea of a teacher.

Every experience, sensation and bodily/mental function is an energy that should not be assumed to just happen because we're human. Even hunger or lack of hunger, or digestion and waste excretion are all energies. Sexual impulse and reaction are among the strongest of energies. All of them should be vigilantly observed as they occur with an understanding of their empty and enlightened nature. That is definitely something I'm going on intuition since I can't explain what that means at all.

There's one important mantra that has been said to encapsulate the entirety of the Buddha's teaching: "Nothing whatsoever should be clung to (as me or mine)". An extension of that I use most often during sitting is, "No thought whatsoever is worth dwelling upon". Thoughts constantly arise, I can't help it with my monkey mind, but I can constantly remind myself that none of them are worth anything.

Now it's "May all enlightened energies embodied in each and every experience be ignited like a fire". Alliteration. The refuge of the destitute (Sondheim). It's ironic Sondheim calling alliteration the refuge of the destitute since his lyrics are literally littered with alliteration. And he's brilliant at it, no destitution there!

That they be ignited like a fire is to emphasize the active and potent nature of the energies, like a volatile gas. The fire of transformation. No idea. The fire leads to transformation? Transformation is somewhere in there. I just wanted to say the word because it sounds like it belongs somewhere in the equation.

It was a low-key, day-trip visit. My uncle and I took care of the legal stuff and we visited another aunt and uncle briefly. Then my uncle and aunt took me on the new Kaohsiung light rail to show me some of the many changes happening in the fast-developing city. I'm not sure how accurate it would be to say it's like Taipei years ago, but I hardly recognize Kaohsiung now, aside from the heat. Taipei, too, is now very, very different from what it was when I first got here.

A cousin, the son of the aunt and uncle we visited in the afternoon, showed up at the last moment and took me to the High Speed Rail station to return to Taipei. I also spoke on the phone with two other cousins who speak English reasonably well.

And that was Kaohsiung; the first I've been out of Taipei since my father died in Dec. 2016. First "disruption" to my dearly held daily routine in that time. During that time, in total, I've met up with my old Mandarin teacher once; a classmate from my first Mandarin language class, with whom I'm unusually still in touch, twice; and I saw my uncle twice in 2017 when he came up for two of my landlord's (a distant relative) children's weddings.

That's the story of all my personal contacts. I have nothing to do with them, and they have nothing to do with me. As they know nothing about me or what I'm doing or not doing with my life, I also have no idea what any of them has had to deal with in the past few years. One of my uncles died recently, the father of one of the cousins I spoke with on the phone, maybe even in the past year, and it was just information. I wasn't prompted to attend any funeral.

It's the worst kind of small talk when you know nothing about each other but have to force interest in their lives. Certainly they've had difficulties and other worries occupying their minds. I wouldn't be surprised if any of them has contemplated suicide. But that's not something that comes up in the small talk relationships I have with these people.

WordsCharactersReading time

Watching every day. Watching every day go by since the reality of the limited funds, and therefore time I have left manifested. Man, did March blow by in a hurry. Not really. If I was trying to be dramatic, it went by in a hurry, but actually days went by as they always did. I just paid more attention to them begin and end.

On principle, I'm not changing how I go about my days. I don't know why I have that principle, it's just what I always told myself to do. Actually, I imagine many suicides are like that. Once the mental decision is made, nothing is particularly different externally until doing it. The decision is faced and the plan is made without trying to project "warning signs" unless they're trying to be saved or stopped.

"Once the decision is made", I kid myself. Even though the depletion of funds is concrete and unavoidable, why am I even waiting? Why not now? That's the question that has characterized my pathetic pathology, and in the past has always indicated I wasn't going to do it. Why not now? Because I don't have to. Hopefully, in a few months I'll have to, but only then can I tell myself that my decision is made.

I wonder if there's anything about my life I wish I had done differently or better.

Not really. Aside from perhaps having suicide as my dream, my goal and aspiration in life. Given that, I think I've absolutely excelled in that regard by distancing myself from people who may be affected and minimizing any impact on them. I'm a very considerate and thoughtful suicide.

So no, there's nothing I could have done differently or better. Anything that qualifies to be in that category would be being more social and present in other people's lives, ego-affirming acts or being. Making connections, contributing to the betterment and well-being of others. Just making someone laugh over drinks. I think I used to be considered funny at some point.

Worthy enough things to do and be, but when you know you're suicidal, when your end goal is suicide, and you design all the little bits of your life to make sure it ends with suicide, then not so much. It just creates attachment and sentimentality. I think I did it right.

Regrets? I can't possibly say I have no regrets. No, I have regrets. I wish I could have practiced better. The Dalai Lama once described himself as a "lazy monk". He was being humble, the point being practice can often, if not always, be better. But we practice to our ability or else we might do more damage than benefit. I just wish I could have practiced better, that doesn't mean I could have. Given more time, I still wouldn't have practiced better.

I regret being born to my parents. Yeesh, what a monkey wrench that was. I still can't make heads or tails of why I was born to them. It happened. I can't just brush it aside as a mistake, even if it might have been. I have to examine whether there was any substance in that relationship and it's a cold trail.

But no, they were the perfect parents for what I want to do. No attachments, no sentimentality. If suicide is something I need to do to advance spiritually, they were the perfect parents. Practically inspirations. Actually inspirations. I don't remember when I was first introduced to the idea of suicide, but I think it was a bit of a revelation of, "you can do that?". And it was a response grounded in being a miserable child of my parents. I was probably in the 8-11 age range, I'm not sure. It was pretty early, I shouldn't wonder.

When it comes right down to it, my only theoretical regret is being this way, what Sadie said she hated about me. It theoretically would have been nice to not have suicide as a goal and have been some positive influence to someone else. It just wasn't going to happen in this lifetime. And I hope that regret is something I can carry over as karma to push for in future lifetimes. But in this lifetime, the big spiritual challenge is to voluntarily give up the attachment to that which is so dear and precious to me: my ego, my subjective perspective, my life.

I went to the bank recently to add some buffer to time I have left in the form of an undated check. Currently the amount in my account will last me until June, and then I have some emergency reserves I keep in house. This injection would give me about seven months. Buffer.

Lots of psychology going on here. I don't need or want a seven month buffer, I'm hoping I don't even need until June. But there I was in the bank trying to implement this injection only to find it might not even work. Why? Because it involves my parents (even after my father died, I still can't refer to my mother as a singular individual entity). If it involves my parents, it involves chaos. It's natural law, you throw something up, it comes down. OK, maybe there's a tinge of subjective interpretation going on, but I'm working with empirical evidence.

I totally regret going to the bank. It wasn't worth the chaos and I had to implement full mindfulness practice to maintain homeostasis, giving off a general air that I couldn't care less what ultimately happens, which is true. I had prepared everything thoroughly for it to be pretty routine, but because of the chaos caused, I have no idea what's going to happen.

I'm bracing for the consequences. There weren't supposed to be "consequences". The injection was just supposed to happen as calmly as two ships passing in the night. Now there's the threat that people will try to contact me, which may sound like a "poor baby" moment, but is still disturbing and distracting. My strategy will be to smother any consequences and cut off anything anyone might try to do. The worst is anyone thinking I need money, so that's what I'll have to emphatically shut down. Fuggedaboudit, I don't need it.

I'm just really annoyed and disappointed in myself for even trying for the injection. I've been complaining about the day-to-day conveyor belt of my life and its uselessness and banality, and here I go trying to extend it? This is me mocking and making a joke of my own life. This is me insulting everything about me and myself and ascribing me to a new low level of pathetic below rock bottom. That might be magma, but that sounds too cool.

What was I even thinking? It was just a bunch of ordinary factors that fell on one day that made it seem the perfect convenient day. But not knowing there was going to be a problem, I probably would have gone eventually anyway as I watched my account decline every month. So what is the psychology of this adding buffer?

OK, even while I'm saying I "hope I don't even need until June", clearly clearly clearly if the injection went without a hitch, I would have kept on through the seven months because that's how lame I am. I have to accept that as it is. And this check isn't the only undated check I have so I have to assume I would have continued to add buffer if the option was there (they all have the same defect, so the option is gone even if this one injection works). Because that's how lame I am. That's what all the evidence of my behavior suggests. That's how I've even gotten this far in years. It sure hasn't been through hard work and ambition.

If I had known there was going to be a problem, would I have gone to the bank? Giving it a good deal of thought, I'm gonna say probably not. I could take that as a sign and resign myself that what I have left is all I have left. And if this injection doesn't go through and really all I have is until June and change, I'm not going to do anything and accept that this is it. I hope I'll accept that this is it. There is no evidence in my behavior to suggest confidence in that.

I think my hand will need to be "forced", and only then will the suicide option become a reality. This is what I mean when I keep saying I've designed my life with suicide as an end. No matter how much "buffer" I'm able to keep adding to my life, eventually there will be no more and since I don't have the ambition to find independent means to maintain my life (get a job), and do have the idealized goal to commit suicide, well then voilà.

I need to face having no option. I need that experience just as much as I need to actually commit suicide. I need it to LOOM. I need to have the train bearing down on me. I need to be in the death zone on Mt. Everest and realize I'm in serious trouble and not going to make it down. I need to be force marched into the desert by government soldiers who hold more value in toilet paper than in my life. I've pretended to be totally committed to doing it in the past, but there always was the option of coming home. I always had my house keys. Come to think of it, that's not total commitment. This time it won't matter if I take my house keys, there still will be no money if I fail. And then what? I don't even want to think of it. The alternatives in that situation are just as bad or even worse than suicide.

I can't even English this.

email. remaining parent. from dead parent's email. cruise. February. me go with.

There is no nope on the scale of nopes to express how absolutely and irrevocably nope the nope is.

The only possible reaction on my part was to immediately delete the email, wash my eyeballs out with soap and try to forget about it. If there is to be communication, since I no longer have a phone, it would be through an intermediary, i.e. my brother, whence the nope can at least be buffered. There is no precedent and therefore no acceptance of direct email communication between the chaos and its spawn (that would be me).

I have to admit things have been tough recently. I've found that mindfulness practice actually tackles a lot of mental health and emotional issues, although that's not something I'm about to proclaim. It's not a cure-all. More of a management device with effectiveness that depends on the individual.

It's just something I've found for myself, and I should note that it has taken a lot of time and continuous practice and dedicated reflection over years and even decades that has transformed and developed and has plenty of its own ups and downs.

I imagine most modern people would prefer to shell out for therapy. But, of course, the purpose of mindfulness practice isn't necessarily for its mental health benefits. I noticed it just as a by-product. As part of the investigation of the whole thing, the whole self, the techniques can be applied to mental health and emotional issues that (may) crop up.

But the mindfulness practice has been challenged recently. The isolation has been getting to me. The purposeful pointlessness of my life has been getting to me. The darker emotions have been emerging and giving me a scare. Sometimes they've even been whelming (can't quite say they were overwhelming).

It may be a matter of degree. Mindfulness practice has managed things effectively automatically to a certain degree, but then above that I have to make an effort to remember and actively implement the practice.

I haven't quite pinpointed what it is. I've questioned whether it has something to do with my father dying, and I haven't discounted that it has, but I don't think so. Certainly not directly. If it has anything to do with him, it's about the living and how completely insignificant and meaningless his life and subsequent death has been on the living.

His death hasn't brought anyone together. I went back to New Jersey; I was the person who traveled the farthest because of his death and it was totally meaningless. And since then, I don't know of any expression of galvanizing any meaning regarding his life. No connection. No one fucking cares that he died or that he was ever alive. At least no one that I know of, which I suppose isn't saying much.

Now that's emptiness. But not in the zen sense. He was no practitioner nor philosopher. It's nihilistic emptiness. And that's reasonably depressing when it touches your life. He was my father, so at the very least it brushes against mine.

My sister-in-law remains in contact. I haven't heard from my brothers, but that's expected for different reasons. One because he doesn't need to, the other because he's made it clear he wants nothing to do with me. Whatever. I don't hold it against him. Whatever his reason, I remind myself that because of what he's done in the past, he automatically gets an out-of-jail card.

No word from my cousin Audrey who was the one who convinced me to go to New Jersey, but I think she's trying to help me in cutting all karmic connections to people in this life, including her. I've been tempted to send her a message to see how she and the kids are doing, but then wondered why she hasn't done the same, given the circumstances. When I realize she might be trying to help my aspirations, I let it go.

No word from my mother, either, no surprise. I think my father was a passive stabilizer in our relationship, and now that he's gone, she just can't deal with me. Or if she tries, who knows how it will blow up? His moral ambiguity suppressed her moral vacuousness. She voted for Trump, need I say more? He voted for Trump only because she did (that's not fact, just my projection).

If it is the isolation that's getting to me, I have to keep in mind that it's my own design. And I have to keep my end-game in mind as also my own design. How much longer I can live like this is parallel with how much longer can I actually live? It can't be much longer, given my lifestyle.

Back in Taiwan. Back to reality. Back to my world.

(I - Nov. 25-present)
I got sick while I was in New Jersey. That makes this the third year in a row that I've gone and visited New Jersey and come back sick. Going to New Jersey to visit means getting sick.

It didn't feel too bad, truth to tell. I got it just as I got the house all to myself for the week. It was all just relaxing time. It's not like I had to go to work or tend to a family or raise kids, like my brother and sister-in-law. It felt like a great week. I remember it as a great week. I did what I wanted, ate what I wanted, went over to my brother's for dinner every evening.

Just in time for my flight home, the cold morphed into a nasty cough that at times was like I was either going to cough up a lung or wanted to cough up a lung. Or puke trying. I literally bought maximum strength cough suppressants at the Walgreens at Washington Bridge Plaza before hopping on the shuttle to JFK from there.

(II - Dec. 4-Dec. 6)
Aside from the cough, the flight home couldn't have gone more smoothly. Less than 24 hours from door-to-door. My brother drove me to the shuttle in Fort Lee which was ready to go just after I bought the cough medicine, no traffic to JFK, non-stop 16-hour on-time flight to Taipei, my luggage unbelievably came out almost right away, bus to Taipei proper, MRT to home. I left after dinner on Sunday night, and by the time I got home Tuesday morning here, my brother's family were probably having dinner on Monday evening.

My father on the greatest adventure of them all, godspeed his journey is as smooth.

(III - Dec. 7)
Cough notwithstanding, I wasn't feeling sick anymore otherwise and I went for a three mile run the day after I returned. My left Achilles tendon pulled within 50 meters of the end of the run.

I think that's pretty much it for running. It's over. The frustration of dealing with a running injury is not something I'm going to accommodate or deal with anymore. And it was going so well making it through the entire summer and even improving beating all expectations.

I don't know what that was all about. All that striving, all that nursing. Hopes arising, hopes dashed. Story of my life. Everything I've written about running since June is now simply negated.

(IV Nov. 17-ongoing)
Insomnia kicked in as soon as I got to New Jersey, but it wasn't a bother. Same as being sick. If there's nothing to bother (aside from the sleep itself), then it's not really a bother. Sleep was all bad the whole time I was there. There was a lot of waking up shivering cold soaked in a heat generated sweat.

No jetlag going there or coming back. Insomnia makes jetlag a non-issue, irrelevant. Maybe it's there, but it's completely overshadowed.

(V Dec. 12-13)
As long as everything else is going wacko, why not add a bout of epic hiccups? The most screwball of all the things that could possibly ail me. I know it's a bout of epic hiccups when I can't suppress them right away by my tried and true method of holding my breath.

When it's epic hiccups, I expect them to last for about 48 hours. Fortunately, this bout dwindled after about 40 hours. But what a reminder of how shit things can get. When it's epic hiccups, I consider it being sick. It's a feeling. It feels like something's wrong. It feels like being sick.

(VI - epilogue)
It doesn't bother me that my father died before me. I even think I'm benefiting from the experience. In the past, I maintained that I wanted to die before my parents, but actually it's just my mother. She's the one I think needs to experience the death of a child, not necessarily my father.

I don't mean that callously. It's an old discussion that I don't want to rehash. For some reason it may sound odd that my mother would ultimately benefit from experiencing the death of a child, but in the totality of considerations, it makes perfect sense to me.

I don't think my father would have benefited any from my dying before him. I don't think he would have been affected profoundly by my dying.

On the other hand, I'm glad to experience the death of a parent if only to confirm that I wouldn't get bent out of shape by the death of a parent. I never thought I would be affected by their deaths, and now I know it's true.

There wasn't any big turn around or revelation or realization what I lost or took for granted. Par for the course, dad. He didn't ever do anything to mean anything to me, and when he died, it didn't mean anything to me. It's an intellectual exercise to mull and contemplate.

Englewood Cliffs, NJ

There was no funeral. He went straight from deathbed to morgue to oven in three days flat, including the mandatory 24-hour postmortem in-hospital waiting period.

No announcement, no obituary, no gathering, no public grieving. no processions, no tributes, no old war stories, no beating of chests nor gnashing of teeth nor ripping of clothes. No need. My mother is making the deliberate point not to tell anyone. If people find out he died, it was not because of anything she did.

It's curious. He accomplished how I would ideally want to go: low impact, little to no notice, as anonymous as possible. One of my ideal scenarios is to just disappear. But it's taking an awful lot of effort to make any of it happen the way I want. My father seems to have hardly put any effort in at all.

It's as if there was little ego involved in his postmortem considerations. As much ego anyone else has while alive, neither legacy nor being remembered seems to have mattered at all to him. Me, I have a long way to go. Even my desire to be low impact and go without notice is eyeballs deep in ego.

When I go, I still have a few indirect or abstract contacts who might catch wind and go, "aw gee, well that's too bad". It might not be so, but it seems to me that there might be people in my father's past who upon hearing the news of his death would go, "who?". He may have been known for his professional standing, not for his social graces.

I've been detaching and distancing from people to lessen attachments. And come to think of it, that's exactly what my father accomplished. He was detached and distant from everyone except his wife, and in the end no one was particularly attached to him except his wife. That couldn't be avoided, he needed her for just about anything that involved . . . living.

At least I know the theory works. If you keep people at a distance long enough, eventually they're not going to be too affected when you die. I don't feel like I lost a father, I don't feel like I lost anything. It's the old cliche of you can't lose something you never had.

Not saying anything bad about him, but his functioning as a father was pretty bare-boned and basic. Otherwise he was just a presence with the nominal social identification of father. Really, Luke's reaction to finding Darth Vader is his father was so unrealistic. Luke should've been like, "So? What do I care? You were never around". Instead he got his panties all in a twist and his hand lopped off. Par for the course, dad.

As for my mother not telling anyone the news, I myself may have already been a leak. I mentioned my brother's initial email to me on fb and I'm "friends" with a cousin on my father's side. She's his niece, daughter of his younger brother who died a long time ago, but they have no relationship whatsoever.

Well, she knows what happened. She's hardly a gossip and I'm not sure to what extent she's in touch with the rest of the family, but if she mentions it to anyone, then everyone on my father's side of the family in Taiwan will know. Maybe there will be shitstorm backlash against my mother, or maybe they'll say, "aw gee, well that's too bad".