The more I learn, the more I know I don’t know anything. Filling becomes emptying. I also don’t eat, and that makes me feel… something. Emptying becomes filling. So I’m falling because down is a direction I can do really well. Motion is mandatory. If I can climb back in this train while it’s moving I’ll count myself lucky. Hopefully the more experienced freighthoppers won’t kick me out. It’s not like I’m gonna steal their food, I just need to coast for a bit, feel cool or hot wind, feel something else moving even as my bodyself stays still.
But then I’ll realize in a sweaty flush that it’s still happening and I didn’t escape because I’m still not driving and yes it feels good to coast but those guys look mean and they’re on to me. I’m on to me.
I thought about killing myself on Sunday night. Head down on the yoga studio floor, child’s pose, completely alone, my body spasming in dry, aching moans, straight from root chakra. No attachment. You know how this started? I tried to look at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t. The disgust was like a rising tide of bile, vile vile vile
If the devil came along I would have struck a deal. Not that I have anything he’d want.
So I asked myself: Can you accept anything about yourself, even just for this moment? My Self responded, Is it okay if I lie?
So there was nothing. No thing.
