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Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.
Was it Veddy or Jenn who took up the sword of Shiva to castrate me today? Guess what! It doesn’t matter! Because I don’t care! Veddy and Jenn are fucking and I don’t care. Jimmy crack corn and I don’t care.
No, seriously, I feel nothing. My dick doesn’t even stir the slightest bit when I hear them. I take that as a sign that my lustful ego is dormant if not dead. Finally.
It’s fascinating because I can see through a prism into the parallel universes where I WOULD have cared. Where it would have wounded me deeply. In one: “She betrayed me.” Another: “HE betrayed me.” Another: “Why was I not invited?” None of those are me as I am now, though.
I heard them during the evening meditation session. All the hate in the room felt like it was trapping me there, but my mind fled as best it could, searching the house for the sounds of the monks washing the dinner dishes, the trickles of water down the drain in the back courtyard…
At one point Veddy got off his perch at the front of the room and wafted out, as he sometimes does. Jenn slipped out a short time later.
God bless Daron for forcing earplugs on me years ago.
The attention of the group is split now because some of them noticed that she left at the same time as him and you don’t have to have ESP to guess why.
