I realised today, just now, there ain’t much to keep me, coming back, every day. From what I see there is much more to life than the dysfunctions I witness. A monk would probably say to me, why go there. Why would you go to a bar if you don’t drink? Why be around dysfunctional people if you want to not be dysfunctional? The stories I hear over the years are always of harm. Where people get even violently maimed by people they trust.
I go back like always because I am weak. I can’t survive without something there. The drama is enough to cure my boredom, the boredom of myself. Though every day I read more and more things that make me want to be there less. So few people I meet actually have anything to offer. It is just like a drunken party, the ego’s locate a hero. The stories without much point and laughter over the stupidest things.
I really think it is whats holding me back. This addiction to drama. I think of Rumi, what he says, he has no desire for it.