a GAS haibun
once a long time ago I thought myself capable of restraint, lived a somewhat monastic lifestyle. each day consisted of routine: sweep the floors, eat a meal with others, perform labor, eat a meal with others, perform more labor, eat a meal alone. then I would take the time to look into my very own mind, and it sprawled darkly but sweet, my mind took me the places my routine could never. it sated and it never ceased. but that life ended when I returned to my home country, when I returned to an lifestyle built on interruption and distraction, when I kept turning to the outside to replicate the depth that was now eluding me from within. no matter how much or what kind I spent, leaping toward the types of fascination that caught me, there was never the gratifying taper or end to my search, there was only a glut, there was always a starving.
trees branch to the sun
like a hand to snarling dog
my learning does not learn
