only peace death?

writing to Orka Veer.

today, i will write about my day, this day that has been given me, in moments, in pieces. each piece belongs to me. it is mine. but who is me? no me i remind myself no feelings no emotions no mind. no mind. no self. no me. but surely even to think this i must be me unless ... what else could be doing the thinking? could it be thought itself and i am that? i confuse myself. there now i see distance between thought and me. i experience thought. i think. and think to not think. no feelings no emotions no mind. no mind. no self. no me. i repeat it to myself to remind myself. i mean reminding is what im doing but im practicing. practicing no mind by saying, in thought, no feelings no emotions no mind. no mind. no self. no me. there is only being. being is all there is.

i was upset so i left the house and started walking. even with my family calling after me i kept walking. i didn't know where i was walking i just knew i was going to walk. cigs, cell phone, check card, check book, license, house keys, smokes, one hitter, fire, book, bottle water. out of the neighborhood, right, or left? right. it was hot. cars pass by who gives a fuck. yea, im in the road. you move. some did, some didnt. people. na, no time to be social who cares anyway. fuck, down to my last drop. out of water and i was only half way to where i turned out to be going. it was getting hotter. my walk slowed to a casual stroll. out of water i thought to stop. to my left, and i had never noticed before, an abandoned house. how could i get to the top of the driveway in front of the front door hidden behind the trees without being noticed? just go i thought. now. no worries just go. i didn't. i walked further down the road. there! there i would find peace. i will walk down this path to the back, i had never been here before. it was next to a house or a house next to it but a house with a tall fence. they could only see me through the cracks and they'd have to be looking pretty hard to notice me. and even if they did they'd just assume i was there to visit a friend, a relative, someone close to me who died. no reason to call the police. they would only bother the unconscious part of me with their sympathy. and this, people feel and are not aware of except to know they feel these things although they are not consciously acknowledged. Harper. McKinney. not familiar. i made my way to what was the back and lowest of the ground hidden from the main road. besides, i pass this cemetery almost every day and never take a second look at it. so i was experienced comfortable. sitting, i begin to cry. good, i haven't cried in a long time, i need to. shit, that's all, that wasn't even a good cry. now im trying to force myself to cry but i cant stay sad enough long enough to make a constant stream of tears enough to feel like im really letting everything out and really letting go -- that's a good cry. what i had, not a good cry, especially now that im trying to force myself to cry. damnit why can't i cry? whatever. i wipe my single tear and take a look back to the main road. nows the time. it's ok. i load the one hitter and fire the smokes. schweet. every time my justification is its calming effect and the goodness of slowing the mind. sitting. thinking. rest in peace. peaceful resting. death is peaceful. death is the only peace. only peace is death. and death, these stones, with names, these are signifiers of some body that once was alive and is now dead. and still is! not alive, but is dead! death, then, is another state of being. no it's not crazy energetic twisted troubling life, its death. peaceful death. maybe. i fire up a cig and smoke it. dude, i don't really know. all i know is the life ive lived and who the fuck knows if im really living it. all i know is i am. don't know what death is really like. never been dead. that day though, in the cemetery, fuckin peaceful.