For my film, “Confessions Of A Writer”

‚Äč”You can feel the palpable loneliness as a writer when you stop hearing people say ‘You’re a good writer’, when they read the first few lines, decide it’s boring and either like the status because they like you or simply just move on…. when they respond to some word or phrase in what you said that’s a hot button word or phrase to them but has nothing to do with the idea you were trying to convey. Has it perhaps become the time that this great poet needs to reflect on his communication skills? Has he gotten too old for the people alive today, too out of touch? Have the times changed so fast that decades have become centuries, years decades, days years, such that it is like entering an entirely new planet, an undiscovered universe, to converse with the people today?”

-For my film, “Confessions Of A Writer”. Any producers interested?



Weakness is by no means a lack of strength. Weakness is the strength of evil over good. It is the lack of a resolute will to use one’s brain and whatever means one has to build a strong defense again evil. I know this because it was not strong people who gave me my cold infection. It was people with weak immune systems, unable to ward it off, who caused me to pick up their bacteria. Among strong people, I would have been strong. Likewise, it was many weak people who fell for Donald Trump’s deception and enabled him to beat Hillary Clinton. He didn’t win on strength. He won on the of strength in the minds of many people who are weak.

Response to the Question, “All fine?”

No not all.

But then there would be no reason to be alive if all was perfectly fine.

We are born into this world like fish sent out to sea.

Why go out to sea instead of stay home? No one can truly answer that.

But we do know that seawater has a lot of minerals not found upstream that enhances life.

My friend is a surfer. He does it because he likes the challenge.

So life essentially is like the salmon swimming back home. It is hard work and sometimes we wonder why we chose it.

But that is our journey, to swim back home to our Buddha self.

I was born way out in the sea in the world of suffering.

It was so bad I could not even remember the world of Buddhahood or the way back home to it.

I just chant and chant like the fish swimming and swimming without rest because at least I know my survival depends on it.

I made a lot of bad choices in this life that I now have absolutely no control over but must endure their effects.

I fight and fight and fight in my daimoku without rest to simply survive and lured on by the unseen promise that one day I will get back home.

So that is life.

Sometimes not fine, more often than not.

Never perfect.

But with lots of reason to keep going no matter how hard.

And with you my darling to help along the way.

To be able to love you to make the bitterness and the pain a lot sweeter.

That is life.