Sometimes life is a bowling ball in the pit of your stomach. Heavy and cold and foreign like a rock when you expect a warm soft hand.

Maybe its all the lies. I've been telling big ones lately. I just watched Lord of War. I think I understand him. I've also just watched The Life Aquatic. It hit me in that spot I can't flex like it did when life didn't make sense and was all fucked up and dream-like. I love that movie and I love getting it, but I don't love the feeling that has to be there for it to happen.

The good part of that story is he gets life to make sense again. Or maybe he just stops trying. And then it does anyway. I seem to go through that in waves. I'm the old selfish prick who only wants to stop the awful foreignness of his life. Then I'm the old man who lets it play out and finds his shark. I always cry at that part. I wonder if it remembers me, too.

Lies are like Pringles. You can't have just one. One starts a whole chain of them, each having to support the other. Nothing in this world is an island; unaffected and unsupported by something else. Why do we think lies can be? Just this one isolated pillar of a lie, and that's it. But then we go along and before you know it you have a whole Roman city. Can't tell just one. There's no such thing as just one.

Desires are just like that. Each one props up one hundred more and one hundred more for those one hundred. One scoop isn't enough. One girl, one solid relationship, one adventure and one last look are never just one.

We are made for greed. We can have so much but still get bored. Its locked up safe and secure in our garage at home and then its boring. The movie we don't yet own, the new car, that girl who looked us up and down are way better than the things safe and secure. We have them. Fun's over.

Our minds are made to gather. Its what makes us survive. When that gets to the current century it becomes dangerous. Cancerous. We have food and shelter out the wazoo. The mind goes crazy looking for stuff to do its job on. Unchecked it gets mansions, three cars, a mistress, and debt.

Can biology be fought? We hear of people that seem to do just that but I don't know if I believe it. The mind is clever. Cleverness incarnate and infinitely intricate. It doesn't care much about the content, just the structure. Maybe its not girls or cars but knowledge or accomplishments or yoga positions. Battles won.

No matter how much we have safe in our cupboards and closets there's always more outside in the wide world to quest for. Home is dark and forgotten. Translucent and ephemeral compared to the blinding rays of What's Out There. Its always there on the horizon, beaming out at us, bidding us, compelling us to follow after it. Once we get there we are happy until we turn and see the rays have moved beyond the hills again.

Should I pick up my feet or rest my bones? Vague ideas but never known.

- BuddhaDave