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Zen and the Art of Stressing Out

So yesterday I saw The Last Samurai on three dollars worth of quarters Alina dug out of her discount marble vase. I was thoroughly inspired. A life of absolute devotion to perfection...manicured Pine trees and tea ceremonies, crisp kimonos and meditation...no fear of death. In between the sound of Alina's sniffles (she liked the movie too) I thought about how gross modern american culture is. How stressed and full of greed and debauchery and clawing for some non-existent vision of absolute power over utterly unpredictable frightening life.

When I woke up, I meditated. I sat and enjoyed a cup of chai tea for breakfast. I slowed down my morning tooth brushing ritual like it was some sort of temple ceremony. I breathed in the day like the zen new-age guru I had most certainly become from two hours and forty five minutes of Hollywoodized Samurai life.

And when I got to work and found out payroll had mistakenly overpaid me for three months and was expecting me to return their $345 from the black hole that is my bank account....

I cursed up a storm and threw a fit like a four year old child.

God damn it.

I'm selling my car and becoming a goat farmer.

1:21 p.m. - 2004-04-16
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