7/28 at 10:31 pm
I know when to hold ‘em, fold ‘em, walk away, and run. I think I know. I’m learning. I’m figuring it out. I’m trying my best here. And if it takes all goddamn life, if I never find [rdct] [rdct] [rdct] [rdct] [rdct] [rdct]. if I never sell [rdct] [rdct]... if I never see [rdct] [rdct] [rdct] [rdct] [rdct] … if I never ever ever finish [rdct] [rdct], if we never stage [rdct] if we never do anything, if we don’t eat breakfast tomorrow, if we never fall asleep tonight, if that feeling in my chest stays there forever, it will still be okay.
Until the cows never come home, it will be okay, and it will keep being okay because that is the only choice.
Okay comme the baseline state of the world.
Okay comme the state of the world whether you’re not in it or in it.
Okay being ce que the world would be whether you were here or not.
Okay being ce que you would be whether the world were here or not.
Okay being the default, ce dont it can’t ever get worse.
Okay because c’est toujours “just okay.”
The suffering comes and goes.
goes where?There is an end to suffering within this lifetime, I think. I can reach it out and touch it sometimes, and when I touch it is when it shrinks away from my fingers and reminds me that maybe I don’t have to touch it. Maybe I can just admire it, and maybe I don’t even have to do that. Maybe it’s better to avert my gaze from it—not to force it into a particle for scrutinizing.
It’s nice to observe it sometimes, anyway, because it’s just nice. Sometimes I need to be reminded.
But then faith is about walking throught he world with eyes wide shut and ears wide shut and everything wide shut and still believing that the baseline is okay and that hasn’t changed.
Maybe it also requires telling yourself that there is a god at the helm and that god is the reason for the constant okayness and that all the illusions about how things are not okay are just people grasping at straws and calling them life.
The end of suffering is right there. If only I could say I would be okay if I lost everything right now.
If the roof over my head disappeared right now and I got tossed into the woods to sleep on the forest floor, and if I were to start to get eaten up by all the bugs—slowly whittling away at my health—even then it would be okay, because I could be food for generations and generations of new insect life, not to mention the bacteria, and…
The truth is I wouldn’t be okay with that, and I would find some way to get myself out of the woods.
And no, I will never let [rdct] convince me that I need to stay alive, that I will not be okay without life.
And that’s where we get back to the bottom line of my nonenlightenment.
I’m not enlightened, nor are any of the people around me, and none of us want to get dropped off in the woods to get eaten alive by bugs. We want to die from the inside out, don’t we, that’s the whole point of our skin, isn’t it, to serve as a barrier, and that’s the whole point of our bacteria living inside of us, right, so that they can someday destroy us from the inside, and it’ll be painful, but at least it won’t be a removable cause.
I will rely on the comforts and safety of the modern world, with its roofs over heads, and, until it comes time for me to die, I will cling to the little bit of life I’ve got left, until I find some way to fully detach myself and become indifferent to whether my life ends or doesn’t.
All the worldly shit that I was thinking about on my drive from [rdct] back to [rdct] doesn’t seem to matter. All those logistics that I was carefully sketching out in my mind, like texting [rdct] to see if I can [rdct][rdct][rdct][rdct][rdct] and calling [rdct][rdct] to see if I can [rdct][rdct][rdct] and fucking all of it, all of it, it doesn’t matter, because truthfully, it would all be okay regardless of how I chose to involve myself in the situation.
I could die right away and let go of all of these expectations (easy), or I could let go of the expectations without dying (hard) and just throw myself into some arbitrarily decided way of life, or otherwise just completely detach from all of the plans I’ve made up until this point. I could let them all fall away, leaves in the breeze. They start burning, actually, while they blow in the wind, but the wind continues carrying them in ash form, the wind having never changed, nor the leaves.
That’s the entanglement with [rdct] talking, and the one with [rdct]—we can’t forget that one—who put me onto [rdct][rdct][rdct][rdct][rdct][rdct][rdct].... Yes, yes, it’s all becoming clear… all of these entanglements… I know they’re illusory, but I feel like holding on to them... I don’t know. I don’t know why, or to what end, but I feel like holding on to them.
Maybe I’m crazy, and—actually, scratch that. I’m definitely crazy. Who else would…
I wear the title with ohnonohrohrohronrohronrorhonornrnrnr, thank you very much. I’m a crazy person. And if you don’t fuck with that, it’s okay because it’s okay.
It’s okay to be okay because we’re all okay and it is all okay and it’s okay. Stop striving toward anything. Let the wu wei kick in. Minimal effort all the time. Let’s stop trying.
Let’s stop trying to make things better than okay. Let’s let them be better than okay if that’s what they end up being, but let’s stop trying so hard to make them that way.
And I know we’ve already basically done it, but there are still little micro-grasps that I have over things that could be let go.
Like the desire to wrap this thing up so smoothly