Wabi-sabi...

Writing this book has really been almost impossible. And I still don't know if anybody else will find it any good.

But now, maybe for the first time, I see how amazing it is that I've kept writing this impossible book for nearly 6 years despite so often feeling like I'm profoundly and desperately failing at what I'm trying to do... It's a subtle fire, and sometimes I lose it, but it's been there all this time.



Many things amuse me, and I appreciate many kinds of humour, but for some reason, I very rarely laugh. Out loud, I mean. In the past few days, I've found a new hobby, which is reading message board threads where people talk about "the most embarrassing things" that have happened to them in a doctor's office / when visiting someone / etc., and I just laugh and laugh at the never-ending shit and vomit stories. I don't really understand why this is the only kind of humour that makes me ROFL. Oh well. There are many things I don't understand.

Unfortunately, I'm going to have to give this hobby up. This is the internet, so even innocent shit and vomit stories are inevitably intervowen with people's bigotry, petty moralizing, and little bursts of weird rage. After a while, it begins to have an effect on one's psychological well-being.

The soul is a delicate organ. I don't like feeling like my soul is broken. I don't like feeling like my soul is shrunken in fear. I won't allow the internet to diminish my idea of what a human being is...

This is magic in every way: