I have more money than I know what to do with
Past ripenings
For some, a boon, a great thing
But it feels horrible
I was more generous when I had nothing than when I have something
A bowl of food a day and I gave half of it away happily
Now I bite my nails and my cheek and my tongue
With thousands upon thousands of dollars to my name
It would be better to just give it all away
Do as much as I can and let it all go
What I have now is nothing but a tether
I’m drugged, presented false reality
Buried under the ground
Buried under what little opulence I’ve accrued
The way to generate more is to have less
Missing some detail but it’s correct
Self-propelled mechanism if you carry it to its logical extent
Carry it until you cut your own stomach open to feed a beggar or an animal what little food is in there
And you will feel nothing but joy
For you have apprehended past and future lives
Claimed that which is to be claimed, and so forth
If you understand this, what is there to lose?
Nothing but gain
A Buddha rules nations by birthright
Through merit accumulated through eons
Yet gives all this up
To rule instead the nationstate of the mind
I understand this, clear as crystal
So clear I cry about it, cry while I write this
Yet I cannot give this up
I am too weak
It is called a practice for a reason
But I still do not even try to engage
I got so angry at my partner
Because she couldn’t take me to the airport
And because I would have to spend a tiny bit of my now-vast sum of wealth to book a cab
I kept it to myself outside of a statement after I had calmed down
Better than I used to be
Far better
But it’s not good enough
I haven’t eaten, I haven’t drank water, I haven’t gone outside
Still no excuse
It’s all ripenings, all projection
Don’t I know this?
Isn’t this what I spend hours pouring over, trying to understand
All I’ve managed to do is tie myself further in knots
Lord knows what I did in a past life
I don’t even want to think about it
For this kind of thing to wind around me
And I listen to music while I write this
A game open below me
Wasn’t I supposed to be cutting those things off?
Just yesterday I was so anxious about entertainment and sexuality
I could barely think
This is the state I want
This is the state that cleared away the addiction before
Set fertile ground
To be so acutely aware that I’m destroying myself that I have no choice but to give up negativity
And yet I come right back
The comparison of a cycle so obvious it doesn’t need to be stated
It’s all circumstance, nothing is random
Even this poem is a denial of that in a way
I put my hands together in mudra and pray to the noble assembly
For any sort of help
I need it dearly