Your cocktail sir,

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2004-10-26 - 3:46 p.m.

I'm very angry with myself. Last night I allowed myself to be shaken down for $20. Some drifter with a sob story about a hotel and it being cold. He almost got me for a ride to Washington Terrace, no doubt to score his fix as opposed to the Television he was to allegedly get. And so I'm fucking stupid with the cycle of drug poverty marchers ever onwards and I think to myself, there goes the coffee budget for the week. And then the class guilt kicks in and mocks me for putting coffee before a human being and I have no proof that he was a junkie and that I might have actually helped someone an it will all come back to me karmically. However, relying on the many arms of Krishna to set things right is a frustrating prospect and not really one that I have the patience or inner peace to ponder and appreciate. Like most Americans raised by upper middle class democrats (aka Episcipalians, or in my case closet ones) I am more direct and want the benefits that come with helping. Praise! Admiration! Gloating, because not only do I get civics credit and a write up in the local section of the paper, but also it'll look great on my college applications and hide those low math scores. And really, at this stage in my life I should be past all those petty thoughts, but I'm not and perhaps that is the anger that I find within myself. It'll be something to think about tomorrow morning while I'm waiting for those flavor crystals to dissolve.

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Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29

Zen and the stumbling rocks of fitness - 2007-07-19

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Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20

Zen and hiccups - 2007-06-18

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