Sutras For The Dead
"I don't read sutras for the dead."

Look at them. Hakkai smiling his tiny smile of apparent contentment, watching Gojyo as the kappa turns his head and the breeze flicks out his hair in an oriflamme of crimson silk. Gojyo conscious of Hakkai's eyes on him, but not prepared to admit it, quarrelling with the stupid ape over the last meat bun. Goku himself laughing as he grabs for the bun. He exists in the moment. This is good.

Attachment is death. You kill a part of yourself by caring for anyone else. You bind yourself into position like a bonsai tree and learn to smile as your body and soul curl towards the light of your loved one. I prefer stormlight, midday sun, tornado brightness. Tear away the clothes and take the naked reality and then walk away.

I light a cigarette and watch the tiny curl of smoke rising upwards as the cigarette itself falls slowly to ash. Is it a metaphor? A symbol? A parable? No, dumbass, it's a cigarette.

I don't trust anyone. I know them. There's a difference. I told the centipede-sired bastard that Hakkai wouldn't kill me. That's not trusting Hakkai, that's simply understanding him. Perspective does that for you.

I don't expect the three of them to understand that.

Gojyo burns with life. I think that tonight I will go to his room in the inn -- assuming we reach the next town by then -- and I will do as my desires impel me. I do not meditate about what the sweat on the back of his neck will taste like. I will discover that then, one hand on his back to pin him down as I bend over him and feel him shudder under me, and I will . . .

No. Only the moment. I do not live in the future. I do not live in the past.

paper aeroplane against the sky


At least that quieted them down for a few minutes. Dumbasses.

Hakkai is watching me again, still smiling. He still lives too much in the past, a thousand ghosts trailing behind his shoulders like dark wings. I do not mock his concern for me, or for the others, even if I shrug it off. It is given from his heart, and it is a thing of the present.

Even if it is a stupid attachment.

God saves nobody. He must learn to save himself.

Goku gives me no cause for concern. He lives. He exists. In some ways he is paradoxically closer to holiness than I am.

I wonder if Kanzeon Bosatsu looks down at us, outside time (for where enlightenment is, there is no time) and sees us in a single bubble of air and time and light, reformed with every second, as we travel West. Where are her hundred hands reaching down in mercy when they are needed in all the bloodshed and violence we see around us? (Let alone in all the violence we personally commit. I've yet to see the bitch show any mercy to someone I've just shot down.)

God saves nobody. It's astonishing how liberating it is to realize that.

There is no time. There is only the present. I have no fantasies. I either act or I do not act.

Gojyo is insulting me again. The fact that he is only two feet away suggests that he wants me to hit him with my fan. I must pay more attention to the dumbass's masochistic desires.


I carry a sutra for the living, not the dead, and we are all alive.


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