Inside This Mind.

02.25.2005 * 11:21 p.m.
I wrote for an hour in my car.

This is quick break from writing about Buddhism in order to write about myself instead. Ah, what a lovely change of pace. But do be proud, I have actually been working on my paper, and it's going just beautifully. Thank goodness.

Yesterday morning I watched a girl in my class take almost forty minutes to eat one banana. Every few minutes I would notice her take a smallish bite and think to myself, "Didn't she start that thing at the beginning of class?" Yes. Yes she did. Mostly I just marveled at her patience, her uncanny ability to just take her time and enjoy her breakfast. I didn't understand it and still don't. This morning I ate a banana for breakfast. As I stood in my kitchen, hovering over the trashcan, taking hearty mouthfuls of banana in rapid succession, I thought of that girl again. I could never eat like that, slowly and systematically. I'm too high-strung.

Last night I sat on the couch alone in the dark for a few minutes, slipping dangerously close to the edge of sleep and wondering if my roommates would think it strange of me to just collapse where I was for the night. Just then I heard a strange, soft noise coming from the kitchen. It sounded like my cat getting a drink of water out of their bowl in the middle of the night. A gentle lapping sound that made me miss my home and my babies. Since no one else was around, I wrote the sound off as some sort of drippy faucet type of thing. This morning I realized it was in fact Delicious, the goldfish, sucking in air from the surface of his water. So it was a strange reverse of the action that it called to memory. How very odd.

When you become used to seeing someone on a daily basis, you become sickly dependent on his presence and though you know you are quite capable of going a whole 50 hours without seeing him, you wonder if, for some perplexing reason or another, you might miss him during that time.
I guess we shall see...
What the crap am I talking about and who am I trying to fool? I miss him when he leaves my house every evening. But that doesn't mean I'm not perfectly happy when we're not in the same room. It just means that I like him.

Okay, back to Buddhism and their many buddha-fields. Wish I could radiate light from the circle between my eyebrows...