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.

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middle-age chronicles

Whodda thunk that a simple trip and fall could cause so much pain? It's no surprise that the end of youth brings a loss of resilience and longer recovery times post-workout/physical activity. When you're young, you take a dive and hit the deck and your chums lose their shit and laugh at you and post the video on YouTube, but you get up and dust yourself off. If you see middle-aged people or god forbid elderly go over, there may be a better chance there's significant pain involved. I think maybe the older you get, loss of equilibrium becomes more dire for whatever reason.

Well, I guess it depends on the situation. Before this instance, it wasn't that long ago that I went over like a lead dirigible out in public for no reason and it's true I was in serious pain, but mostly to my pride. I got up quick and dusted my embarrassment off, was thankful no Google Maps car was passing by and continued on my way pretending nothing happened. 

This time I fell walking UP the stairs to my apartment so gravity was even in my favor. I didn't fall as far as that time in public. It was just a stumble that slow motion would reveal how it progressively got worse in microseconds. Multiple impact points, the most obvious and immediate was my right knee that I thought took the brunt of it. My left foot jammed against a step, both palms hit the landing trying to break the fall with my backpack getting tossed over my shoulder. The top side of my left ankle was the only place where a little bit of blood was drawn so that hit something, too. 

But the PAIN. When the fall was over after a second or so, I was shocked, stunned by the full-body pain and had to pause because I couldn't move because of it washing over in waves (mind you, I still had the presence of mind/YouTube awareness to look up and around the stairwell to confirm there was no camera in sight). Not wanting to be seen like this if a neighbor happened to be leaving or coming home just then, I pried myself up and proceeded limping to my room and tended to the knee which looked like there was a major contusion but just turned out to be some dirt and took an Advil for the pain. In short order I determined the fall was nothing and dwelling any more upon it would be symptomatic of chronic hypochondria.

The next part I don't understand. Two full days later (of normal activity) the pain in my left big toe which had jammed against the step in the fall bloömed. The pain and the swelling probably indicating a fracture. If it is a fracture, why would it take two days for the effect to manifest? Psychological? The pain is incredible (befitting a fracture), but why didn't it hurt like this right away? 

I took Advil, first one pill and then two, but the pain didn't go away and if it wasn't going to work I decided to not waste it and not take anymore. Then the next day without Advil the pain was ridiculous, just moving my foot or changing position was excruciating. I tried the Advil again and found that it was working just fine, it's just that the pain was so intense that ibuprofen could only dial it down, not eradicate it. It still hurt, I was still limping on it, but at least I could manage moving around. That was a huge relief. 

With the big toe swollen like a mini sausage, I couldn't wear sneakers for a few days. The first time I tried, I took one step and immediately switched to Birkenstocks. No brainer. Fortunately Taiwan isn't as fashion-forward as the U.S. and there's no career/social life-ending taboo against wearing socks with sandals. Even if I weren't already wearing socks when I switched footwear, I'd rather not have Birkenstock shaped tan lines on my feet. If my fellow Americans are fine with those tan lines, well that's an idiotic look, too, btw. Me, I don't care what anyone thinks about the way I look wearing sandals with socks, but Birkenstock tan lines I'm the one who has to look at and one annoying summer to autumn to winter until they finally faded was enough.

I gotta admit it's annoying and frustrating having to deal with this physical pain at a time when I would prefer to just cruise unperturbed towards the purported end of this life path. It's more annoying than the two incidences of knee pain in the past few months because I don't know what caused that, whereas this was my own unmindful, clumsy undoing. But actually it's a good reminder of how fragile this physical body is and that it's pretty much downhill from here. Actually this is a great reminder of the nature of the body and I should be treating it as part of my path. 

In fact, there have been several things popping up in my daily life recently that I would do well to consider challenges on my path. Not on my path, but as my path. I should consider these as final tests of learning the universe is throwing at me, and taking that view I'm not doing so great; could really be doing better. Maybe not tests because then I'd be failing. More like reviews of what I should have learned and mastered and should continue to try and drive home.

Like little money things. The irony is so rich that I'm finally running out of money and all of a sudden (really!) I'm losing little bits of money right and left on random, trivial things. It's not about amounts (negligible), and the specifics are so random and petty as to be absurd and even embarrassing to mention. But the fact that they're happening and I'm noticing and getting a little bit wtf? annoyed instead of laughing at the big joke means I should probably be paying more attention to something! Come to think of it, the amounts are mostly in the range of what I should be willing to give to panhandlers. And there aren't many panhandlers in Taipei, but I came across one about a month ago and thought about it but ultimately failed to lighten myself of coinage. I don't know if that's it, but why not? That's the path for you.

Other things I've noticed popping up for improvement include being unpleasant or feeling like I'm being unpleasant to random people (lack of compassion); having at least one moment every day that puts me in a bad mood (bad attitude); not being able to smile just because I'm here and breathing without feeling sarcastic. It keeps turning into a smirk or a sneer whenever I try (negativity). If the aim is to be joyful at the end, it's much more convincing if I can learn to be joyful leading up to the end.

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.

Whoa, dude, I'm being hit by a nasty bout of depression. I know I've written about experiencing depression in recent memory (meaning a few years) since it's rare by my reckoning. When it happens it's confirmation, to me at least, that I'm generally not depressed. There's a big difference. To me at least, if not how I sound.

To catch things up the past few weeks, my left knee appears to have pretty much mostly healed from whatever that was, but the sciatica still dogs my right leg from time to time; not too bad, doesn't contribute to depression, just a limp. The weather has no doubt been a contributing factor in the depression. There were maybe three days that weren't gloom and drear and with temperatures creeping into the low 70s and pale sunlight fighting a losing battle. But that long-range forecast predicting cold temperatures right around New Year's was not only spot-on, but spot-on with a Siberian vengeance with probably record lows on New Year's Eve. I'd be surprised if records weren't broken or matched. Cold contributes to depression with not a promising forecast.

Contributing factors aside, I'm gonna attribute the actual trigger for the depression being my space heater breaking. A few weeks ago I tried out pointing my space heater into the bathroom during showers and it helped mitigate that misery to the extent that I didn't give a second thought about using it every night since then or what it might be doing to my landlord's energy bill (I don't pay it directly, but I still feel bad since he's my cousin's uncle). Using the space heater made me think I could get through this. Whatever however shit it was to plummet myself under a cold shower, there was that steady flow of warm air making it bearable and which was especially appreciated when I was done and temperatures only rose at that point. The space heater breaking was the universe laughing and telling me to go fucking kill myself already, daring me at this point. The universe has no qualms laughing at the big joke of my life and making it worse in the pettiest ways. So the universe is not so much #worstlandlordever, and more the model of #sadisticthirdworlddictator.

I have no problem putting a theoretical, ideated suicide (i.e., not to be taken seriously) back in the cards on the table, except one principle I hold to is depression can't be a contributing factor towards suicide. If I'm feeling depressed, I'm not going to do it. Clear out the depression and I'm good to go. I am fighting the depression with positive thoughts and energy and happiness-generating meditations. It's all part of mindfulness practice. Ironically, a contributing factor in the depression is feeling that my practice has been going no where, but then countering that by identifying that as subjective with limited validity; don't worry about it, just keep practicing. 

I don't know if it's just me and my personal version of mindfulness practice, but depression can't crush a turnaround in positive mentality and realizing all of these conditioned things shouldn't be taken as real, fact or substantive. Unfortunately, I also think a part of my method is what I mentioned before about getting angry to cope with situations. I recognized getting angry may not be ideal as any sort of weapon, even fighting depression. I'm confusing and conflicting myself now, so I'll stop. I don't have a conclusion to which this train of thought is heading.

I only have reasons to commit suicide and letting go of this life, and nothing but my ego-habit and attachments preventing me. All of those contributing factors towards depression are valid contributing factors towards suicide, except depression itself. Good fucking grief. Why can't I be a normal person and just kill myself if I'm depressed and without all the neurotic conditions I've placed upon suicide? Just take a gun and shoot myself, except this isn't the U.S. and guns are hard to come by. OK, buy a portable barbecue grill and burn charcoal in my bathroom leaving one of the small windows above open to clear out the carbon monoxide so no one else is affected. But I don't want to leave a body. I don't want someone to find me and have to deal with a body. Why? What the hell is wrong with me? But it is absolute, I won't subject anyone to that. 

Oh, Happy New Year, btw! 2021, yay!

I will mention that a superficial way of dealing with depression has been in the mix CDs I've made for every year I've been alive. As geeky and pointless that may seem to anyone else, there's nothing like being able to put on a CD that was personally curated by myself and guarantees every song and segue is an uplifting bop of appreciation of beauty, groove or emotion. I guess it helps that the one enjoyment I have in my life is listening to music. Obviously it wouldn't help anyone who doesn't care much for music. But I highly recommend that sort of project for its therapeutic benefits in both making them and in listening to them in the lowest moments.

Finally, I need to own up to a mistake I made trying to be clever in my previous post. I referenced the song "War" and then thought I was being clever by referencing the song "Low Rider" thinking both songs were by the same artist. They aren't. War is by Edwin Starr and Low Rider is by War. So you can see how I got into trouble; an honest mistake. Why I would think "War" was done by a band called War simply went over my head. Well, Japanese all-girl punk band Shonen Knife wrote a song called "Shonen Knife". That even made it onto my 1991 mix CD.

mizerable daze

The weather oracle has already declared this to be a La Niña winter and the long-range forecast for Taiwan is that it will be mild until the end of the year, and then temperatures would plunge after New Year's followed by a long, cold, bitter winter (of course Taipei is subtropical, but that's how I read it). I remember cold, bitter winters over the past 10 years because I would bring cold weather stuffis back from New Jersey because of them. Below average winters aren't pleasant, but at least I should be sorta prepared for them.

And that "mild until the end of the year" is turning out to be no comfort as Taipei has just had two solid weeks of gloom and drear when it wasn't outright raining, which it has a lot, and at least another week and a half of the same according to the forecast. Weeks and weeks of this kind of weather is also in my experience here, notably my first two winters. It seems every kind of worst winter weather is being dished out all at once this season, perhaps the universe's answer for Taiwan avoiding the worst of the CCP pandemic and making sure 2020 sucked for everyone!

Adding to the personal suckage of 2020, one of the two major hypermarts near my place closed at the beginning of the year/pandemic. It was the closer of the two and was in walking distance for alcohol runs during extended rain periods. The remaining store isn't too much farther away in the opposite direction, but requires going by bike. The result is that whenever there's a lull in the rain, I do an alcohol run and accumulate a stock to last as far into the rainy period as possible in case it turns into constant rain. So far there have been enough lulls to consistently maintain over a week's worth of alcohol. 

Even more suckage is developing sciatica in my right leg. Somehow I immediately knew it was sciatica when the pain started (the word just came to me) and was able to confirm its likelihood with a web search that described it exactly. It was pain that was both dull and sharp and I couldn't pinpoint where on my leg it hurt, it was just the whole turkey leg. The description of a "radiating" pain rang true. And since it's a nerve issue, there's nothing that can be done about it but wait for it to go away (similar to the ridiculous issue I had with my cervix long ago).

I expect the pain to simply go away as that seems to be my karma (pattern/habit) my whole life. Same with the pain on my left knee that has developed in the past two days. That's too soon to worry about and I'll finish off the glucosamine I have left which usually takes care of knee pain. Only a little disturbing is that Advil seems to have no effect and it really fucking hurts (not quite as fast as "sciatica" came to mind, "gout" became a possibility). It's far worse than the usual glucosamine-cured knee aches and hampers mobility. Outwardly, sciatica only slows down my walking to thinly veil a limp. This knee pain has shown effects on walking, stairs and bike riding; makes me look crippled, even on bike. 

And then there are the cold showers as mercury continues to descend. Even no where near the depths of a forecast long, cold, bitter winter, cold showers aren't pleasant. I'm still mindfully gauging my emotions at the lack of hot water while in the shower. I scroll through my range of emotions, wondering what I'm feeling. I know what I'm thinking; I'm thinking at least I'm not in the Siege of St. Petersburg, at least I'm not Jewish in the Holocaust. I'm only at "abandon ye all hope of hot water", but how do I feel about that? OK, cold. I feel cold. That's not what I mean. Frustrated? Wronged? I don't deserve this? Injustice? Violated? Tempting, but no, none of those.  

How am I supposed to feel as I jump under the cold shower? This sucks!, yes but that's not a feeling, it's a fact (or an opinion depending upon who you ask, i.e., someone who isn't directly experiencing it). Holy shit! yes, but that's more an expression of a feeling. What is the emotion behind that expression?

What goes through my mind is "let go of ego, let go of attachment (to comforts), let go of the self (what suffers)". There's something practice-related going on. What comes up in my mind is certainly not the peaceful deities/lights (representing the ground of reality) in the so-called Tibetan Book of the Dead, but rather the wrathful deities that appear after liberation through the peaceful deities is missed. 

Wrathful deities is more like it. Wrath; this is more akin to anger. Not anger at anything or anyone, just a violent and virulent dissonant energy. It helps me get through it. If I wasn't angry, maybe I'd be wimpy and whiny and complain about it in bouts of self-pity, but St. Anger says, "be damned, cold water, it is not you who will defeat me". All the while not knowing it just may (along with sciatica, seasonal affective disorder, gout, isolation and not being known, gastrointestinal issues, alcoholism, etc., etc.). 

Anger has helped me survive a lot along my way. Is that a good thing? It can't be, can it? Anger and negativity feed each other. But I'd posit negativity as a general or background state – that's not good, it just taints and sours everything. Anger, when controlled, can be a sword, a weapon, an adrenalin bomb, something you need when confronted. Actually, no, it's not a good thing. I'm probably just trying to justify the "way I am", but it has likely caused more grief than good for me.

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Sometimes I still get helplessly wrapped up in negativity and nothing seems to be going my way and everything everyone is doing annoys me, and even traffic lights are conspiring against me whether I'm walking, on bike, bus or MRT. I know it's beyond irrational and is downright stupid, but there I am stewing in grumpiness and being peeved at everything around me. Mindfulness practice is supposed to kick in and I'm supposed to look at this from the outside and be aware of it. I'm supposed to look carefully at each element and rationally ask myself what is annoying? Is there something inherent in this that's annoying? Is this a permanent condition that is worth my energy or being negative about? 

Nah, that's not working, I already said I knew it was stupid and irrational but the feelings and thoughts are still there, I'm still stewing. So then Vajrayana-related practices kick in. Accept the negative feelings and thoughts and work with them, don't try to get rid of them, don't try to rationalize them. This is a mandala I'm traveling through where everything has a purpose and there's always something to work on. 

I ended up with the toxic negativity becoming a big fart cloud surrounding me. All I could do is wait for it to dissipate, but for the meanwhile I had to sit in this cloud of my own stinking fart. That's important, not someone else's flatulence because that may be too much. That's just disgusting, but we don't mind our own farts even though they stink and we wouldn't choose to make a scratch 'n sniff out of it. When we were kids we would run for the hills if someone else farted, but our own farts we would lean in and take a whiff. As adults sometimes we'd try to figure out what it was we had eaten. Not me, I mean, I don't do that but some people do. Probably. I think I saw it in a movie.

So there I'd be on the backseat of a crowded bus, miserable and grumpy with a facial expression like I just smelled shit because I'm surrounded in a cloud of fart, hoping and waiting for it to dissipate, but at least no one else is bothering me anymore. 

Why am I still here, alive? The question has started to almost haunt this month, arising in my mind, whispering in my ear with everything I do. I ask it of the universe during morning sitting and to send me something I could interpret as a sign. Like a winning lottery ticket. It might not quite answer the question, but as signs sent by the universe go I wouldn't complain too much.

August last year I was hoping to hop off the conveyor belt of routine that took me from day to day in furtherance of getting to my goal of exiting this illusory existence. Not only was that endeavor a complete failure, but the conveyor belt has morphed into a veritable treadmill. I have no responsibilities; no job, family or friends to whom I'm accountable, yet every day is filled with inconsequentialities that make me feel I don't have enough time. It's totally neurotic.

At the same time, there is no "haunting". There is neither conveyor belt nor treadmill. Those are mental formations and descriptions that only describe assumptions about reality that can't be assumed; the illusory life. It's just neurotic.

"Neurotic" is a word that I've noticed popping up quite a lot in my Vajrayana readings the past few years, referring, I gather, to our conditioned thinking, reactions and behavior. Basically, a vast majority of our thoughts and behaviors are pretty much neurotic, with not just a hint of irrationality implied. Perhaps from a pure Vajrayana point of view, whatever that is, all. If we're mired in treating reality as it's presented as absolutely real, all of our reactions and interactions are neurotic. It's irrational to treat reality as presented as definitively real, solid, permanent. But that's a little extreme since only a slight percentage of humanity has been exposed to Vajrayana teachings and even a slighter percentage, including real Vajrayana practitioners, whoever they are, would consider all of their conditioned thoughts and actions as irrational.

A larger slice of humanity have family, and therein lies the low-hanging fruit to demonstrate how afflicted we are with our neuroses. We can choose our friends and form our social tribes who understand us better and who don't step on our every last nerve, but go home to blood family for the holidays (I'm no where near them, mind you) and see how fast you become neurotic about various things they say, do, imply and/or insinuate. With our friends, it may be to a lesser degree, but it's there. I'm here alone with neither friends, family nor acquaintance and the neurotic is totally right here, front and center.

I'm trying to start working on lessening my neurotic. Emphasis on the 'try' and 'start'. I haven't even started, and I'm only trying to do that. It's not enough to know myself that it's nutty and irrational. I already know it and that's not doing anything. It's not cognitive. I'm searching for the starting point.

For years I've been working on myself to reduce negativity and confront internal anger issues. It's ongoing work, but I think I can feel alright about being a lot better than I was. It's not like I was a gloomy Gus or a hair-trigger rager. It's in my personality to give and take my share of laughter and I don't think anyone would describe me as a particularly angry person. My bar for anger or negativity is pretty low, though. I don't want any of it; it's all bad, shut it down. As soon as I recognize it, it's *stahp!*. That happens all the time.

Those techniques were Vajrayana-inspired, if I dare say so, but a good deal of it was cognitive mindfulness, watching the energies and processing them to cognitively transform them rationally. Working on transforming neurotic obscurations is a lot trickier since they are by nature to some degree irrational. Rationalization isn't going to help because I already know they're irrational, yet freely maintain them.

I appeal to the energies to help purify or clear obscurations – karmic obscurations, negative obscurations, neurotic obscurations. The energies are the many intangible things about us, but subjectively verifiably real. All thoughts and feelings are energies, but feelings are more potent. I think we think of feelings as things that just happen and pass, but recognizing them as energies makes them something to tap into to enact change on subtle levels. 

Anger is a favorite example. If when angry we can stop being angry for a second and examine the feeling, it's an energy. You might even be able to locate where the energy is in your body. Once you stop and examine it and recognize it as an energy, . . . well, you've already just stopped being angry and you're in new territory. It's now a lab experiment and you can go, oh yea, there it is. What's it doing there? I don't like it. It feels bad. That's how it starts getting transformed. 

Sexual energy I've mentioned before as possibly the most potent human energy, but working with it requires a high level of discipline, removing all animal aspects of it and any idea or conception of desire, lust, attachment, self-gratification. Focus on just the energy aspect of it. Very difficult to do, but the same principle applies. When the energy arises, arousal, you stop and identify it and try to get to the point where you realize desire is not what you want. Lust is not what you want. Attachment is not what you want. Self-gratification is not what you want. Needless to say, spouse, house, mortgage, rug rats, etc. are not what you want. It's not about sticking your dick in someone else or someone sticking their dick into you. They may seem to be what you want, but where does it get you? If those are what you wanted, fine, you're there. If you're trying to get beyond it, then you have to realize they don't get anywhere and they're not what you want. I think I've said too much already. But it doesn't take too much to recognize that feeling as a very potent energy. Surprisingly it isn't located where one might obviously think, but activates the entire central energy channel. Oh, and the energy is subjectively pleasing. That's alright for some reason! There's no throwing out the pleasing aspect as something you don't want, but there's still no attachment and no object of pleasure. It's more like a communion or oneness of masculine and feminine energies.

This is not Vajrayana. It's my own personal voodoo. It might even be psychological self-brain washing. I don't know if the results I've noticed are an actual result of practice, or the obvious result of concentrated, psychological mind power. But even in Vajrayana practice, I think, whatever methods, techniques or visualizations are used, whatever deities or dakinis are entreated upon, it is emphasized that any results stem from not any outside source. Whatever outside source used is just oneself, and there's no separation from the self and the "outside" source. 

I've noticed the efficacy of mindfulness practice has broken down completely recently. It's a continuation and extension of what I mentioned in January when I first noticed something . . . off.

My mind is clouded, my thoughts are clouded, my feelings are clouded. Negativity grows and creeps and I can't stop it. I apply the practices, the visualizations, the meditations and they just aren't working.

I've been going back to the teachings in the books that have been so illuminating in the past, and sometimes I'm reading sentence by sentence with negative responses and resistance arising constantly.

It's not that I think the teachings are wrong. I read and acknowledge they are right, but my mind is resisting, making excuses why they don't apply to me now; excuses that I know are wrong and deluded, but reflect how I feel.

It may be a problem of not having a social support structure; no community, no friends, no family. Even hermits living in caves have benefactors who check up on them and deliver food and supplies as necessary. Even hermits are not as nothing as I am in my current existence. They are especially not nothing.

Maybe weather, winter blues, is a contributing factor. If it's raining, if there is no sunshine or shadows it's just such an easy excuse to stay holed up except to get out for alcohol. Not even food that much as I'm never hungry anymore. Whatever sparse nibbles I have in my room are enough to not want to eat.

It's not that I'm giving up on mindfulness practice. Morning sitting is still the most important thing I'll do for the day. Occasionally I'll take a break day, but for most part, even if I wake up and don't feel like sitting, by the time I'm vertical I'll be preparing for sitting. Actual break days are often justified by physical health conditions that actually manifest.

Besides, I know from experience that the teachings work. If they're not sinking in just now, that doesn't mean they don't work. It's far more likely that certain conditions and attitudes are preventing me from realizing them in the present moment.

I'm not worried. I'm not going to stop applying the teachings, but I expect I'll be spinning wheels until conditions are right when the sparks start plugging again. It will be of continuing importance to keep objectivity and keep just observing internally and not reacting emotionally and uncritically. That would be a waste of all I've learned.

As the saying goes, "If you're going through hard times, keep going".

I experience people in this city, life in this city, and I'm astounded by how rude people are in this city. Then I realize if anyone, I'm the rude one. I'm the asshole. How did I become such an asshole?

Am I such an asshole because I'm alone, or am I alone because I'm such an asshole?

Is it a matter of nature or nurture? If it's nurture, then I'm a rude asshole because of my upbringing; the result of my parents' poor parenting. I don't buy that. My parents were shit parents, but I don't put what I am on their heads. I could've risen above it. Their shit parenthood only reflects what shit parents they were. Not my decisions.

So nature – nature of an asshole – what does that even mean? From a Buddhist perspective, I think nature (personal, not "primordial") is about karma, what has been spiritually inherited; habitually practiced and inculcated until transferred from one lifetime to the next.

So what about my nature, my karma, has made me such an asshole? Is it my self-imposed social isolation but with access to internet and media that has rendered me so self-absorbed that I no longer have any connection or empathy, ergo a sociopathic asshole?

It's probably just how I feel. I may even be exaggerating. It very well may be likely that no one even takes notice of me and my dark clouds at all.

I've noticed common themes in my dreams lately. Like messy living quarters, even bordering on squalid. Disgusting floors, old buildings. Internal conflicts with other people in the dream that aren't confronted or resolved. General dissonance, chaos, mess. Dissonance with my environs. Dissonance with the absence of people in my life.

One recent morning, the feeling from the dreams was so distasteful that when I awoke, I finally didn't try to push myself back into a dream state even though I was having trouble sleeping. I was like, "fuck it, I'm not going back into that", and got up.

That's what I do when I have trouble staying asleep in the morning; when I can't just fall back to sleep and it's pretty much back-end insomnia. I can force my consciousness back down into a dream state, which is and isn't the same as getting back to sleep. When I wake up again, it seems like I was asleep, but it's not to be mistaken with restful sleep. It's very shallow and dominated by the dream state.

The nature of these dreams suggest that I'm obviously still disturbed by many things on unconscious levels despite mindfulness training and striving for Buddhist ideals of cultivating wisdom and compassion. No surprise there, since despite trying to cultivate transformation, I clearly cling to many negative conceptions and habits (karma).

I can still resort to being an asshole. Or if not overtly exhibiting asshole behavior, I act in a way that makes me feel like I was being an asshole. I was thinking like an asshole. I judge people by their behavior. In my mind I impose how I feel people should behave in this world on other people. Even giving someone a cold, judgmental stare is no good. And I did that recently.

I connect this with the dissonance in my subconscious. This outward hostility and judgment has very much to do with all the subtler levels of mind and stains them and makes them ugly. I need to make compassion and kindness more of a daily mindfulness meditation.

It has to be happening at every moment every day when I have to interact with other people even in the most superficial way. At every moment when I'm out, I have to be generating compassion to any and everyone around me. There can be no let up, even when I'm not interacting with anyone.

It's not easy. In the past, I've justified aggressive and asshole behavior by thinking of it as a "fierce" element which can be compassionate, especially when safety is involved. Sometimes being mean or presenting an illusion of danger alerts people of the need to pay attention, the theory goes.

But maybe that was just an excuse to allow primitive anger emotions to arise, despite being mindful of my emotions and claiming to myself I wasn't being angry. So many complex levels of conceptual thinking may be preventing progress. However I justify negative behavior, the bottom line is those excuses aren't in my job description.

My dreams are telling me something. I can't fool myself with sitting meditation and mindfulness practice and think there isn't a lot of ugliness in my karma that I can't work on. Even with limited time in my life, even with the implicit negativity of placing a limit on the time in my life, I can work on the ugliness and put compassion and positivity as a foremost meditation in my daily life.

My father apparently suffered a stroke while vacationing in Paris over the New Year. He was hospitalized for several weeks there, and scant information was relayed stateside until he was able to return to the U.S. in January.

It was my second oldest brother who filled me in on his condition; the brother who apparently decided on the cruise last summer that he wanted nothing to do with any distress I might be undergoing, even if it was right next to him.

Not that I want to involve him in any distress I might encounter, but instead of letting me disavow him of any concern, he made the affirmative point himself that no, he didn't give a shit. I don't know the reason he needed to express that so clearly, I don't know if it was the result of something I did or am that offends him. The facts just stand as they are with no analysis or examination.

So it was a surprise to hear the news from him. Our exchange was brief but substantive. I don't know why he took it upon himself to inform me. Someone may have asked him to. That actually makes more sense.

Usually I don't know about "situations" until after they're resolved and my mother calls to tell me and then it's just a discussion of what had happened. It's never a matter of keeping me in the loop of what's going on. My brother writing to me to "keep me in the loop" is not normal.

Him, January 20:

Sorry I haven’t emailed you in a while but I did want to make sure that you were aware of what is going on with dad.

Around Christmas time he and mom went on a trip to France but on their first day there he fell and wound up in the hospital in Paris. They diagnosed a stroke from bleeding in his brain (likely due to high blood pressure). During that time we didn’t have much information because mom’s phone didn’t work in France (I didn’t even hear about it until a week later when Uncle Aki called me). He was in the hospital for almost three weeks and eventually came back to NJ last Friday. He is still weak on his right side. He could walk on his own but was not very steady and his memory/thinking were still impaired. At one point within the first 24-48hrs of being home, he fell off his bed and they had to get Tom to come over to get him back up – so not very functional.

Last week Mom arranged for him to be admitted to a rehabilitation facility in Saddle Brook but after a few days he was admitted to Hackensack Hospital with a urinary tract infection and low blood pressure (urosepsis probably). Hopefully once the infection is under control and his blood pressure improves he will be able to go back to the rehab facility. Although I hope that he improves with his ability to walk/think, I don’t think that he will ever fully get back to his prior state of functioning – though hopefully I will be wrong.

I’ll let you know if there are any changes in the situation.

Take care,

My response, January 22:

Thanks for the update. Mom usually calls about these things after they've resolved, but this sounds a little more serious. It's possible he'll be alright, taking each issue one step at a time, medical issues first and then rehabilitation. It might take mom "bullying" him to both get better and more importantly to want to get things back to normal. He may have had hints of depression or melancholy in the past regarding his physical state. I've always pushed mom to engage his mind and emphasize things that stimulate him mentally. No idea what those things may be.

I expect mom maybe to be somewhat distressed by all this, but she's also a fighter in these situations. And if she can push him to fight, she's the one to do it. I hope everyone else is staying strong and positive. It's all natural, these things happen. It's in the nature of things. Freaking out and getting stressed or despondent doesn't really help. I've been pushing that on Grace regarding her mom for a while. Nature has a course and takes it. 

I guess you've heard about David Bowie. That hit me unusually harder than I would expect of any number of aging rock stars kicking the bucket. Most of the time, including Glen Frey, it's a little sad intellectually, but more of a send off of a great career and contribution, raise a glass, cheers. But Bowie ate at me for a few days. Now I kind of think that's what he wanted. The way it all unfolded was that he sort of made his death into performance art. He knew he was dying but he kept it a secret, then he works on his swan song final album and releases it on his 69th birthday, and then dies two days later. Art is aesthetic and some of the best is meant to jar people, and he did both! "Bowie releases new surprise album on 69th birthday". Two days later, "Bowie Dead". If you think of it as performance art, I'd expect no less from Bowie.

From him, Feb 5:

Just wanted to give you another update or two...

Dad recovered from his urosepsis and has been back at rehab for about a week. He is apparently doing okay although is still not very verbal - they aren't sure (as per mom) if this is because of damage to the language centers of his brain, cognitive issues, or that he is depressed. I think it will be a long road to recovery with persistent limitations. I'm trying to ease mom into the idea that dad will probably not fully recover but still let her have hope that he will improve.

And on another sad note, I don't know if you heard from Grace, but her mother passed away on Tuesday in hospice. She never really recovered from her heart surgery and subsequent multiple hospitalizations for various things. She had recently started dialysis for renal failure and had been progressively dwindling. In the end, she was admitted to the hospital for pneumonia and the family decided against continued aggressive medical care. Her funeral is going to be this Saturday.

And my last, Feb 7:

I suppose the tricky part is to "ease mom into the idea that dad will probably not fully recover but still let her have hope he will improve", but that's probably also the best and wisest approach to take. It's the hardest thing to get people to face that most obvious aspect of life, which is that nature takes its course (once it's accepted and understood, it becomes one of the most comforting aspects). 

On the other hand, I think mom isn't oblivious or hoping against hope, and realizes what his age means and what these medical problems mean. She certainly isn't stupid and has shown great adaptability and even wisdom in recent years (in contrast, as smart as dad is, I haven't seen much evidence of either adaptability or wisdom; more stubbornness and selfishness (that's not judgment, just observation)). Mom may just be afraid of any changes and how she's going to get through it. I still think he can improve and be functional, but no one can be certain or over-optimistic.

The verbal issues may be a logical result of the stroke and any cognitive damage. It's positive that he recovered from urosepsis and is back in rehab. Whether the verbal impairment is medical or psychological is anybody's guess. Both should be addressed. I'm sure the medical aspect is, but for the mental aspect, stimulation should be targeted; things that interest him mentally. This may be my own personal projection, but his personal story and recording it might be something to engage him mentally. Mom says he's not interested in his past, but I don't know. It may be a matter of how and who. But if mom's right, so be it.

Grace has kept me in the loop about her mother, and as she was professed Buddhist, I've offered to offer up a ritual afterlife prayer recitation for her (Tibetan Book of the Dead). It isn't lost on me that I can't imagine what Grace and Peggy must be going through emotionally, nor that we might need to be preparing ourselves about dad, regardless of what we are hoping for him. I think I've noticed human mortality has been an interest of yours, and the death experience is something I've gone to lengths to familiarize myself with, but I also know that there's no bracing or preparing for it. When the news comes, it's a sucker punch in the gut. 

I've never quite understood why these topics are so hard to broach. I remember when grandfather got sick a few months after grandmother died in 1993, my first thought was "this is it, he's about to die". So I was shocked when I asked mom whether they would be going to Taiwan and she said no and that he'd be alright. Then of course he died and she wasn't there. That was the whole of our interaction, by the way, as we weren't exactly on conversational terms back then. If our interactions were like they are now, I would have spelled it out just like that, "Go, he's about to die!"

Anyway, thanks for handling whatever you can for them. Tom must be taking the brunt of it, but like I said, I usually only find out about things after mom contacts me after things have settled one way or another. I can't think of a single instance I've contacted mom; that's just how it's always been, the nature and symbol of our relationship. That said, I'll send Tom an email in the next few days and check up on him.

You're probably hearing news about the earthquake in Tainan. It was bad because it was so shallow, but didn't affect Taipei at all and I haven't heard of any impact on Kaohsiung. 

Monday is the start of Lunar New Year, are the kids' schools recognizing it like before? I hear it's the year the of fire-breathing monkey. Tough image to get out of my head.

My mother did call shortly after. It would make sense that she might have asked my brother to email me. It was so by the time we talked, I already knew. It wasn't breaking news, but just something to discuss.

Since that conversation, she called again and got a bug in her about my future, and the one thing that will set me off is if she starts suggesting things about my future. She has simply, as a parent, lost any right to make any suggestion about my future. The call ended badly and I won't be taking her calls for a while. Unless my father dies, then I'll take a call.

I hadn't heard anything from my oldest brother, the one whose mother-in-law died. He also lives in the same town as my parents, so I presumed he was in the thick of two emotional shit storms, on top of raising four kids and maintaining his medical practice.

As my birthday approached, I presumed he'd send me an email as he always does, but I thought I'd take any weight off whether to send a happy or concerned email by sending a preemptive email letting him know I knew what was going on and empathizing with his position. He did send back a message on my birthday, but it was the email equivalent of wet, cold spaghetti. In my hands, no gravy.

My email was to give him space to let me know his space without having to go through what I already knew, and his response was basically "meh". I don't know any other way to put it:

Happy Birthday,

Dad's stroke may be slowly improving or it might be mom's wishful thinking. It's hard to say. I'm not as optimistic as mom. We'll see. Next vacation won't be too far away. Grace is taking things better than Tessa. Hope all is well. Hope to see you later this year.
T

These are the bonds of this family. I'm affixing a tag of "negativity" to this post, but even though it may seem I'm being negative, I don't feel it that way. It's just the way it is. Maybe negative is unfortunately "just the way it is", but I have to let it be as it is.

I see no way to affect change, nor feel any impetus to do so. What do I have to do with any of these people?

As far as I'm concerned, I'm at the end of my life. I'm just waiting to die. I'm waiting to go blind from glaucoma or waiting for my bank account to run out or waiting for my hair to fall out or waiting for liver failure from years of drinking that now equates to just about drinking a bottle a day. Of liquor I mean, not beer.

Last year had that hilarious incident whereby I came across a teaching that implied my parents get credit for supporting a spiritual aspirant's endeavors by dumping all that money in my bank account. That was the only reason I agreed to go on that cruise.

Then between giving them credit and the actual cruise, they took the money back. I still haven't calculated how much I have left to live on, but it's immediately finite. So exactly what credit do they get? What do I owe them? Easily nothing. And I don't expect to go back to visit them this year or ever at all. Why would I? The circumstances will have to be very specific.

I certainly don't owe any of them continuing to live my life. OK, that earns the negativity tag, lol!

Englewood Cliffs, NJ

I spent the last week on a cruise with the whole family, including parents, both brothers and their families. Thirteen people total; 7 adults, 6 children. I only agreed to this when I was having pangs of gratitude towards the parents for their involuntary contribution towards my following the path.

Between then and actually coming on this trip, the situation changed whereby I likely would not have agreed to come on this trip. But on the other hand, it still worked well for me as I mentioned Taipei was getting toxic and stifling. I'm enjoying being away.

And the change in situation may work for me as well, as whatever life I was living likely couldn't be sustained much longer. Things can't go wrong when things "going wrong" is the plan. Things looking like they're going wrong for me is actually things going right from my perspective and how I've set up my life.

Anyway, I came on this trip with the conviction that I wouldn't have a bad attitude towards anything consciously if I could help it. A lot of letting go involved. And not.

The cruise was to Bermuda, and it was enjoyable enough, but there's not much to say about it. It was pretty useless in the grand scheme of things. The days at sea were pleasant, there was non-stop food and maximum stuffitude, and with 4,000 people on board it was surprisingly easy to ignore the crowds.

I guess I can't emphasize enough how totally not invested in this trip I was. I was just tagging along. I had no part of the planning. Just show up and do as directed; take initiative and help out if opportunity arose. I made no special preparation for the trip – not even proper cruise footwear or sunblock – nor looked into what there was to do in Bermuda. Nothing about this trip was about me. I didn't do anything I might have done if it were my own trip.

I was predictably the odd one out, the free agent. My parents are their own unit and they did their own thing. We met for meals. My brothers' families were each their own unit and they made decisions according to their own priorities (the kids). I was free to tag along or go my own way.

For them it was creating memories. No doubt for the kids the memories will be significant as any childhood memories are. I suppose it's the same with my brothers and their spouses, but as adult family memories. Parents are spending their retirement the only way they can think of.

For me, after getting back home, the whole trip seemed unreal. It happened, but didn't leave any impression and may as well not have happened. Back to what I'd be doing anyway and not a single meaningful recollection or memory.

August 21, 9:54 a.m. - docked in Bermuda

10:26 a.m. - out for a walk on my own the morning before departure

3:04 p.m. - on our way, heading back to New York

August 22, 9:57 a.m.

4:25 p.m.

4:27 p.m.

The only thing worth mentioning on a personal basis is that I had another insomnia meltdown at one dinner, and my brother, sitting next to me, intentionally ignored it. He wouldn't even manage a "You OK?". Two words.

If it were a stranger, he would have assisted. When you notice someone under distress, you see if they need help, especially if you're a doctor. It's a no-brainer. And he couldn't have not noticed. As much as I was trying not to draw attention to myself and keeping it contained and zombie-ing my way through dinner, it doesn't take an empath to notice the person next to you at dinner having trouble.

Even if he didn't look over and notice what a hard time I was having physically, the silence was deafening as no conversation was directed at me and I wasn't making any effort to engage anyone or even make small talk. Plus I had to excuse myself from the table several times to keep from melting down, and not once did he acknowledge when I returned. Easiest thing in the world just to ask, "You alright?"

That level of disengagement, ostracizing even, in that situation meant he was putting an effort into ignoring whatever was going on with me. In a word, he didn't care. I didn't expect free medical advice. If he asked, I would've told him I know what it is, it has happened before and I can deal with it.

If he didn't press beyond that, that would've been totally acceptable. He doesn't need to know about insomnia. And if I tell him I can deal with it, he's off the hook to let me deal with it. But he didn't know what was wrong and he ignored it.

After that I disengaged from him and his family. It wasn't like I was "punishing" him. I just didn't want to look at him and I had no expectation that he would even notice. On the cruise with his family, if nothing happened and I acted the same way towards him, he wouldn't have noticed anything.

If he did notice something, then he would be acknowledging that I was reacting to him at dinner and that he did do something wrong.

But apparently he did notice and two days later while we were all at a beach, he had gone off to get food with his wife and when he returned he interrupted my music listening to offer me a burger. I declined and he emphasized that he got it for me.

The sibling read was clear and in a second it was over. It was clear what he was doing and so I thanked him for it and asked for the ketchup and relish. Any other reaction would have been petty and would have meant that I was trying to "punish" him, which is just silly.

After that, things went back to normal. More or less, that is. He did what our parents always did after conflict situations: they pretended it never happened and acted like everything was normal. There was never any acknowledgement or accountability regarding the conflict.

That behavior from the parents has always been infuriating and never forgotten. With my brother, I know where he got it from and so I won't react the same way. But suffice it to say I'll decline any invitations to visit him in Philly. Not that I'm expecting any.

Philadelphia, PA

So my brothers and their families all arrived at the resort on Thanksgiving day around noon-ish just before the big Thanksgiving meal. It was strange at that time that I had already been there for 24 hours and by the end of that day it was strange thinking that it was still their first day.

I was mostly dreading the trip because I didn't know anything about it, but it turns out we rented a whole house at the resort, so I had my own room to which I could and often did retreat. I didn't have to deal with the parents or the awkwardness or chaos of the nieces and nephews. It wasn't that bad.

One of my brothers' family is total chaos. I actually went over to their house the night I arrived from Taiwan and it was a total circus. I could see my sister-in-law caught with head underwater in the whirling rapids with hardly any chance to get a breath. It's hard to believe the great humor and grace with which she handles the situation. She deserves an award.

My other brother's kids are the total opposite: well-behaved, disciplined. If they can be described as soldiers standing at attention, the other brother's kids are like a bunch of baby squirrels playing in the first snow.

The parents continue to be sheer chaos. This was supposed to be a family vacation weekend celebrating their supposed 50th anniversary. But my mother scheduled with my oldest brother for him to go to work on Saturday, with her driving him all the way back to the office and then driving back to the resort afterwards. 

Whatever, all that is none of my business. However, even with the already existing tension with the parents, I offered to drive my brother at the last minute. Even though it was none of my business what arrangements they made for my brother to go to work on Saturday, once they were made, it only made sense for multiple reasons that I do the driving. I meant it as a favor, I'm sure my mother didn't see it as a favor.

The start of the parents' role as chaos began once me and my brother headed out in pre-dawn hours in my parents' car. It was quickly apparent in the mountain road darkness that without high-beams on, the car basically had no headlights. 

The left low-beam was completely out, a fact that I had already pointed out to them on my first day back. The right low-beam was damaged in a fender bender over a year ago that they never got fixed so that the beam pointed in a direction no where near the center of the road. 

Driving on the mountain roads, at points where it was completely safe, I turned off the high-beams and it was like I had turned off all the lights. Every time I had to shut off the high-beams due to on-coming traffic, I also had to slam on the brakes because I couldn't see anything and drive using the line immediately on the right side of the road. 

We had to drive on and deal with it, but since it was pre-dawn with few other cars on the road, it was manageable. Once we hit the interstate, the sky was just getting light, but I opined that if a cop saw us, he'd probably pull us over. So until the sky brightened sufficiently, I shadowed any vehicle in front of me both for safety, and to avoid how obvious our lack of headlights was.

The issue was what to do going back. My brother said that if we departed after three, we would certainly be driving in the dark once we got back to the mountain roads to the resort. Our options were to try to fix the bulb (which would be totally in his realm since I have no idea about any of that), or take his other car. 

The fixing option didn't pan out. He could pull it off if we had more time, but we didn't. But he did tell our parents about the issue, and the mother then called me and asked me to take the car to get it fixed. That was the chaos that sent me near over the edge. Mindfulness practice engaged, I didn't go over the edge. 

But I was furious. I reject cars. I got rid of my car. I got sick of the headache of maintenance and all the baggage that comes with cars. And here I am for just two weeks and the chaos asks me to take her car in for repair. 

I did half-assedly look for the repair shop she mentioned. I couldn't find it. When she gives directions, it's totally from her subjective point of view and doesn't take into account how other people might see things. 

One of my brothers acknowledges that about her. He doesn't listen to her driving instructions because they're so subjective as to be useless. She describes what she did and tells him that and it's nonsense to him, as opposed to when I give him directions when the first thing I ask is what does he see so we can coordinate our bearings (this happened when they were driving to the resort). 

For the return trip, my brother rejected my impulsive idea to just take their fucking car back to them and let them deal with it, so we ended up taking his other car. I didn't look at or talk to the parents until just before leaving the resort (which was just until the next morning).

I was furious (sorta), my other brother invited me to stay at his house for a few days, and I decided to accept. Not wanting to drive with my parents back to New Jersey or deal with them in any way was no small part of the decision to go to Philly. So the last thing I said to them was confirming they were alright driving my brother's car. 

So that's why I'm in Philly now. 

Funny thing about this traveling and insomnia, I have been maintaining morning sitting. Before leaving for the resort last Wednesday, departure was delayed so I started sitting. So it happened that when everyone was ready, I stuck my sitting cushion into my luggage which was otherwise near empty. 

As insomnia continued, I would get up early in the pre-dawn and do sitting, which was very pleasant in the mountain quiet. After the manifestation of chaos on Saturday, on Sunday morning I was sitting and thinking about the chaos when a huge blue throne-like block visualized before me and said "LET IT GO!". I thought that's probably a good idea.

It's all good and fine to do the best one can in tackling mindfulness issues, one of mine being negativity, with one push-button issue of (karmic) violence and aggression. I'm generally not violent or aggressive in any way. Even when I feel an instance of anger flare up, I'm quick to extinguish it.

That instance of anger is important and I'll come back to it, but as to violence and aggression, I'm wary about this part of my mindstream that runs through scenarios where I encounter a confrontational situation where I take offense and lose any mindfulness or equilibrium and go ape shit on the other person.

Part of me says not to worry about it, it will never manifest, I'll never act on it. But then yesterday morning I had a dream where I did act on it. I don't remember specifics of the dream except that a situation arose, there was a sense of either offense or threat, and I went all out and attacked with the intention to destroy.

I don't remember the result, except that I came out fine, and that the person was somewhat reminiscent of someone I knew in my first year of college. That person was someone I had no problem with and totally respected.

She was an upperclassman, a bass player and a bit of a bull dyke. I think she was an East Asian Studies major and spoke Japanese, so maybe she was a bit of a lesbian rice queen. No problem there. And in reality she could've kicked my ass, as I think she also had some military experience in her background. No idea there.

The point about the dream, and the rest of it was also filled with my own fear and being threatened, is that it was scary because it establishes that violent and aggressive nature in my karma in a definitive way. The way I see it is that as it manifested in a dream, it was proven that it is something real in my subconscious that I have to worry about and deal with.

That flaky mindfulness thing about "I'll do the best I can" is not good enough. And I think this may be an important point about enlightenment, where serious transformation must be faced and achieved. Where doing the best you can is, quite frankly, easy. How about doing what you can't. Open your eyes and don't see. I can't. Well, do it.

I'm led to believe my karma has issues of violence and aggression, and it's rooted in anger. I've gotten good at clamping down on anger flaring up. As soon as I encounter a situation where I react in even the mildest offense of "What the hell are you doing?", I shut it down.

That's no reason to pat myself on the back. That may be doing the best I can. The impossible is wiping out any mote of anger flaring up at all, and that's what needs to be done in the scan of my perception of reality. Wipe out that karma completely. How do you wipe out karma that was created by someone else (previous life/lives)?!

It has become instinctual and immediate. It is part of my fabric. How do I not get angry for even a microsecond, how do I not react? But it has to be done no matter how impossible it seems. That's what may be considered transformational.

It's safe to say that my current life is only about distracting myself from my purported goal in life. And I tell myself if not for these distractions I use to distract myself, I would likely get on with it. There isn't anything left to say, I've said it all before.

You know, just 15 years ago it wasn't so easy to get onto the internet, and there weren't the structures on the internet that made it so essential to people's lives as it is today. Back then it was a rudimentary, burgeoning research tool and porn. Porn was there from the start.

But even 15 years ago, I had my distractions. However, 15 years ago my distractions were more substantive and had more potential for personal meaning. Remove my current distractions, I'm not sure I'd be able to conjure up other distractions.

And even though there's nothing left to say because I've said it all before, there is still looking back at the path that got me here. Lots of precious moments, lots of crashing and burning.

I do think I've been somewhat successful in transforming myself into a more benign entity that will leave less of a footprint on this physical, manifest world, and less attachment to karma creating activity or being. Shutting down the ego and the ego-attachment.

I think I have been quite successful in transforming negative impulses into understanding and compassion. Transforming victimized self-pity into understanding and positive letting go.

I do think I'm a very different person from just two years ago. Just looking back at two years ago, and I don't understand that person that was me. I don't understand what that person was doing or what that person's motivation was.

I've been trying to email my brother for a while but it's the same as this blog, I open the draft and I got nothing. I just have nothing to say, nothing to express. That's not a negative statement. I'm just stuck. I'm not moving forward. But moving forward requires one thing first – next attempt. If the attempt fails, then I'll have to face whatever's next and presumably I'll have found whatever energy is required to go there.

I'm not sure "energy" is the right word there. Desperation maybe. And that is negative. But it's a numb desperation. Like when I left San Francisco after that attempt. I failed, plans to leave were already rolling so I just had to do it. Remembering that and the futility of everything since then points to how I really don't want to fail in the next attempt. It's what I hope to remind myself if I'm standing on the edge and having doubts whether this is going to happen or not.

My path has led me to this point and everything is in place again for a good attempt. What it boils down to is the only reason why I might balk is ego-attachment. This attachment to ME. I'M here. There is no 'no ME'. The universe is here because I'M here. Intellectually that's ridiculous, but perhaps here is where I'm really faced with my attachment to self, which is possibly the biggest obstacle towards true understanding, or liberation, or enlightenment. 

It's all process. Maybe what I'm doing can be described as balking, but maybe I'm just waiting for this understanding to ripen. I go back to what I've posted in the past few years and I have no idea what all that was about. It was process. There were a lot of things I was uncomfortable about regarding negativity that I was processing, and I think there was some degree of success there in that I can't relate to those posts at all now. Even though the karmic imprint is still recognizable, it's not an issue anymore.

And I go back to posts from way long ago, and I feel that this entire blog is unnecessary and irrelevant. But it's so irrelevant that it's not even worth deleting or making private. It's just what it was. I remember at one point in college, a few of my angsty and dramatic dormmates and I decided to ritually burn all our journals up to that point. But even in doing that there was a sense of self-importance. Even throwing our past thoughts and record into the fireplace was a big statement to ourselves. It was something worth it to us to burn it.

The value of maintaining this blog, or discontinuing it, or deleting it, is just . . . not. Nothing. And even that is fierce ego-clinging.

I've found a website that allows me to upload simple sound files, and I've had to decide whether to do what I always wondered whether I would do if given the opportunity: post my own songs from my past. And in what manner?

On one hand, from a music perspective, I don't think it's any good. I don't recall anyone to whom I gave the cassette giving more than a polite positive response. To be fair, I don't recall anyone having the same music tastes as me, either, go fig.

And even though the results sound like a final product, the purpose of the recording was to shop it around through my network of friends to find other musicians to play with. I finally accepted my writing process was too excruciating and results too poor to want to be a primary songwriter, but I was hoping to find people interested in the sound and forming a band. I just wanted to be the bass player.

On the other hand, I am trying to wrap things up and wind things down, and this is a significant part of my past, albeit small and very private and at times embarrassing. This is part of my history and past expression.

I've said before I'm glad I have these recordings because no matter how embarrassing, they are a record of what was going on at the time (actually that was about a previous collection I had recorded during college; this collection I'm personally not so embarrassed about).

It's not out of ego, it's not that I want anyone listening to the stuff, but it's fact, it's record. It's confessional, and that's part of what this blog is supposed to be doing. I keep myself completely hidden from people who know me, but this is the place where it all comes out. Anything anyone ever wondered about me can probably be found somewhere in here.

And I think I'll go full-on confessional here. When someone creates something, they don't know how other people will take it or interpret it. I'm removing that by saying what everything was about. I'm not pretending this is art for a listener to enjoy or interpret or figure out. This is an artifact of expression that I'm explaining for the record.

As for manner, the track order matters to me, so I think I'll post track by track in sequence, but then I'll see about combining it all into one ridiculously long post so it's all in sequence for the archives once I'm done.

01. Son of Solomon
So this first song is obviously inspired by my parents who I hated at the time, putting it mildly. Who woulda thunk?, I just admitted my parents were an inspiration to me. I don't think most individual lyrics meant anything specific. It was just general anger upon which lines were built. Suicide is, of course, alluded to in the song, and I think it's alluded to in every song.

The title doesn't mean anything either. I realized as an afterthought that I had to coax out titles for these songs. This phrase came to me in a quick little flash and stuck.

There is a line referencing when I went to Japan after college to find my way and stayed with a great aunt in Osaka for some months. My parents did arrange that, but beyond that I think every effort was made to discourage anything I was attempting to do, certainly not encouraging or supporting it. In the end, it worked and it was like they scooped a wandering child off its feet and put it back where they wanted it to be.

The song idea started with the bass line which then defined the guitar chords, and probably after I established what the guitar was doing in the verse, that led to the chorus and break sections written on guitar. The bass, a Japanese-made Riverhead Unicorn headless design, sounds like it's going through a Boss Auto-Wah pedal with the lows boosted with a Bass EQ pedal.

I only had an acoustic guitar up to this point since I never took guitar seriously, but I think at this point I decided I needed to include guitar solos and bought a first generation Peavey Predator which was a strat-copy. Later models were a totally different design, but I love the strat-copy version and still have it.

No solos on this song, but I think I used it to get used to playing electric guitar, with two tracks of electric guitar, one clean, one distorted. I think any guitarist will tell you that acoustic and electric are totally different beasts.

All the drums on this collection were played on what was then a state-of-the-art, 2nd generation consumer electronic drumset, a Roland TD-7. Being a huge Phil Collins fan, I gravitated towards the sound that was closest to his sound – very big with lots of reverb.

I was doing the best I could on drums, having worked on keeping a groove while I was in a steel drum band in college. I had a horrible sense of rhythm until then and I spent hours on practicing "groove" with a metronome.

I didn't consider myself a drummer at this point. It wasn't until several years later when I heard Jimmy Chamberlin with the Smashing Pumpkins that I was really inspired about being able to express on drums. Bash the fuck out of those things, I mean.

(Can I ask you something personal?)

Mom and dad could never have a baby

Mom and dad they never had a chance

Though they only needed dope to save me

They traded the hope for circumstance

It was never my responsibility to live past 20

It was never my intention to live through them

The psycho path has been my way out of the halls of plenty

Took my hand to lead me back again

Being pushed was just my way of learning

Pushed to suicide don't make it a crime

Found the agents they were sent as earning

Made me hate and made me do the time, made me survive

It was never my intention to live past 30

It was never my responsibility to be fool-proof

And the only way to pave my grave was to make it dirty

Make it up and make it be the truth

In the guise of a friend she came as a complete surprise

Said there's no worse than the will to live, may it be your curse

In return I wished upon her a real long, long life . . .

Mom and dad were just imagination

Nothing they could do could make me real

Just as they could make their own creation

They could make their DNA congeal

The nightmare grows like ivy climbing up my body

Year by year I never even noticed it being there

It make me realize somewhere implied I should feel sorry

It's all been wrong and gotten me nowhere