Life seems to be about showing off. Everything I do seems to be intended to impress someone else, or myself.


Eden is internal. If it is to be recaptured, it will be internally, or not at all.


You ask me to tell you what I mean
but it's impossible.
When I say the words,
they knock the meaning aside.


bloggo (adj.): how I feel after staying up all night tweaking my blogs
Cardinal Ratzinger has been quoted as describing Buddhist spirituality as "auto-erotic". At least they aren't screwing anybody.
Morality is what I say you ought to do, to preserve my comfort.


I'm a victim of the quarks. Every choice made, even when it feels like I made it, in the next instant, I a victim of it, having to live with it. Right after "I" choose to eat the chocolate cake, the next "I" has to live with that choice even though it was an earlier "I" that made the choice.

And there's a suspicion that it's not "I" making the choices at all, but the quarks playing their little game and generating the sensation of "I"-ness and choice-making. Of course, it's the quarks generating the suspicion, too. If the suspicion is correct, they're playing the game of catching themselves.


Ownership leads to loss, which leads to sadness.
Expectation leads to disappointment.
Desire leads to dissatisfaction.
Acceptance leads to peace.
Gratitude leads to contentment.


I'm making the trip. Do I want to do it with a happy story or an unhappy one? There's no way to tell whether my story is "true" or not. I might as well go with one I like.


What if the sense of making choices is an illusion? Libet's experimental results can be understood as indicating that decisions are already made by the time consciousness becomes aware of them.
I seem to be mildly bipolar: some days bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to take on the world, some days depressed and lethargic and unable to see the point in anything. Is that how it is for everyone?