1. 

Some days are very hard.

Some days I feel I can no longer “go on.” Or, rather, that I do not want to.

This reminds me of Samuel Beckett.

“I can’t go on. I’ll go on.”

2. 

The older I get, the longer I live in Tokyo (as a single man - currently 52 years old), the more I see what this world is actually made of, the less I feel that there is anything to do but to live, to create, and then to die.

3.

My health has always been an issue: allergies, digestion, skin, occasional vitamin deficiencies, thyroid issues, a tendency toward depression (though I am more aware of how to control it now than ever before), etc. etc. Add to this various forms of muscle and/or nerve pain, teeth clenching at night, etc., and one gets the picture… 

The body is a near-constant self-torture machine that requires much maintenance but does not repair easily or thoroughly most of the time.

4.

Lately, I think about death constantly.

Daily.

Every morning.

Every night.

War. Earthquake. Perhaps a sudden diagnosis of stomach cancer?

The End.

All one can do is just to live while one can.

5. 

Being single and alone is not particularly “lonely” anymore.

But don’t let those who tell you “solitude is not loneliness” (and vice-versa) convince you that solitude isn’t also at times “lonesome.”

“Lonesome” = “lone” + “some”

Only one.

Indeed, does one not…

sometimes desire a companion?

sometimes desire another to talk to?

sometimes desire someone to listen to?

sometimes desire someone to care for and/or be cared for (by)?

sometimes desire a warm body beside which to lie?

Solitude is nothing if not solitary.

This is not a judgment about whether it is “good” or “bad.”

Solitude is simply “alone.”

In this sense, it may not have anything to do with “loneliness.” But it is still alone.

Solitude is staring one’s own death squarely in the face daily and not flinching.

After a while, it becomes possible not to flinch too much. The thought even starts to seem rather logical, strangely comforting.

But is this state of being “happiness”? Is this “freedom,” as the Hindus and Buddhists would call it? release from one’s illusions about life/death, about ego and attachment and so on? Or is it simply a form of resignation, an acceptance of the reality of who and what one is and to where one is going?

To be continued...