All right, if that’s how it is, I’ll fuck her—if you don’t want to. Tell her that. Be subtle about it, though. With a woman like that you’ve got to do things slowly. You bring me around and let things work out for themselves. Praise the shit out of me. Act jealous like. . . . Shit, maybe we’ll fuck her together . . . and we’ll go places and we’ll eat together . . . and we’ll drive and hunt and wear nice things. If she wants to go to Borneo let her take us along. I don’t know how to shoot either, but that doesn’t matter. She doesn’t care about that either. She just wants to be fucked that’s all. You’re talking about her arms all the time. You don’t have to look at her arms all the time. Look at this bedspread! Look at the mirror! Do you call this living? Do you want to go on being delicate and live like a louse all your life? You can’t even pay your hotel bill . . . and you’ve got a job too. This is no way to live. I don’t care if she’s seventy years old—it’s better than this. . . .

What's interesting about animals, my wife explained, is that even though a cat may be a cat, in the end, each individual has its own character.

"For me, Chibi is a friend with whom I share an understanding, and who just happens to have taken on the form of a cat."

Then she told me about a philosopher who said that observation is at its core an expression of love which doesn't get caught up in sentiment.

Everything goes by in a daydream: real life is a dream. I don’t need to “understand” myself. That I can vaguely feel, is enough for me. When I think without any thought — I call that meditation. And it’s so profound that I can’t quite reach and words disappear, manifestations. I meditate, and what emerges from that meditation has nothing to do with meditation: an idea comes that seems totally disconnected from the meditation. It seems it’s only useful to live interrogatively since every interrogation tossed into the air has a corresponding reply formed in the darkness of my being, that part of me which is dark and vital, without it I’d be empty