It's got you sssssssmokin'

When everything you thought you wanted starts to work out perfect... when you reach your peak, that pivotal uplifting moment, when the whole world is holding hands, that's right about the time the depression starts.

Lately I have been reading and re-reading an article I wrote when I was 16 called The Meaning of Life. I relate this to the buddhist concept of sunyata, and the end of a J.D. Salinger story called "Teddy". Note "buddhist" is not capitalized. The buddha within tells me not to capitalize it. Only religions are so high and mighty that they feel the need to capitalize their terms.

Anyway, I know I am not ready yet. I have been a being a long time, but this lifetime is not the one that will carry me out of Groundhog Day. I know this because objects still appear to have an end. Because the worldly desire of life and death still seems extremely appealing. Because I started to put half-and-half in my coffee again. Because I have not smoked a cigarette in months, and I yearn for a truckload of them (why did I ever stop?). Because Roberta Flack isn't killing me at all.

At one point, the loss of emotion had struck, and I knew I was close. But the demented have polluted me. And now I get angry at the people who care so much, because they just don't understand. As J.D. Salinger puts it, you're all apple-eaters. Lose your fucking logic, world.

"Who am I when I ought to know?"
- Ben Folds Five