but it did happen

Just finished Magnolia. Ahhh I like it so much. The sheer humanity of it! It was so tongue-in-cheek and funny, but at the same time so mouthwateringly, eyewateringly tender. MMPH.

I think Doubt has arrived but I haven't yet checked. To be sure, I think my gloves should have arrived by now but they haven't :( 

I have spoken before, ladies and gentlemen, on my struggle with desire. As a Buddhist, I ought to cleanse myself of wants and wants, but I find myself spending most of my time, instead of researching and learning and gaining knowledge, I find myself wanting things.

My mother told me that recently my old Buddhist mentor was in the newspaper. He was the chairman of a large Buddhist organisation, and lived in a small temple in Long Beach. I remember him vaguely from my childhood. I remember hopping around like a kangaroo, and him calling me his little kangaroo. I remember liking him immensely. When I think of him, I picture the Dalai Lama. They did not look dissimilar. 

He was in the papers recently, though he died before I could quite remember. The man--I suppose you would call him the undertaker, he had been the one to undress my dear old monk--had recounted a story of this undressing. He had peeled back those orange bedsheets, ladies and gentlemen, and had found the old monk's underwear patched, threadbare, darned in many places. Of the many, many donations my old mentor received in his lifetime as a Buddhist monk and a leader in the community, he took none of it for himself, not even for underwear. 

On seeing the shabby evidence of my poor monk's selflessness and virtue, the undertaker burst into tears. 

In the light of so much goodness, how is it men can still live so close to evil? Though great things are born all around them, like the nebulous winking of stars being born, like millions of larvae blossoming into life in the dark spring night as we touch our heads to sheets to sleep, we seem to see none of it. We take none of that goodness into our own lives, and continue to want, and hate, and kill, and ignore. 

I wonder if animals know good or evil, or if morality is a new disease meant to control the population. Whether just or unjust, someone seems to die for it anyway.

My point is, I really want a leather jacket. With a hood. And one without a hood, for work. I want one so bad.

And I want to shop at MAC. I want. I want. I cry myself to sleep on the inside, though all it looks like is slavering jowls, wild wolves wishing and wishing.