Sopping

Tonight was hard for numerous reasons. One being, I saw my good friend that I haven't seen in quite some time, and was largely unable to speak with him. His English is not great, and while I used to speak with him in Spanish, I now find when I go to call him my brother, I say "wo gege" and not "mi hermano." I was thankful for amigos who had not replaced their espanol with chinese, and were able to converse. Praise G-d.



And I am so antsy and restless about things that sleeping seems like an awful waste of time. But I've got to get up early tomorrow and run before I go to several different places within a short time period. So writing will wait.

But writing doesn't wait, it runs away unless you hold its hand.




I do not understand why I've got this warmth and dryness, and I gave sopping wet Jesse a hug tonight and her skin released rain water like a squeezed sponge. I never understand this, and I am ashamed that I do not do anything about it.






And all this debate about spiritual suffering tonight... what condition does that leave my response to physical suffering in?









I am very confused.