Lunch with Sarah at a restaurant, in celebration of my birthday. We talked about various topics and I showed her some of my Healing Tao books. Afterwards, she invited me to visit her house in the suburbs. Grocery shopping, then she cooked dinner, then we sat on the sofa and split a bottle of wine. Tension in the air as darkness fell and the evening progressed. .

"We aren't saying much," she remarked after a long silence.

"I know," I replied. And then we relapsed into silence, with our legs intertwined, me stroking her knee with my hand, she stroking the back of my hand with her finger.

"So what are the plans for tonight?" she asked.

"I don't know. You're sending out very mixed signals."

"That's because I'm mixed up."

"Hmmm."

Another long pause during which we continued stroking one another.

"Why do you think I have such difficulty having orgasms?" asked Sarah finally. I looked at her, then lay down and pulled her against me so that we were laying side by side and hugging.

"Why do you ask? Is your new boyfriend ejaculating too soon?"

"No. We're going very slow, that's all. And that's not necessarily bad. He's still recovering from his previous girlfriend who died of cancer and maybe that's why he doesn't like to touch very much. He says he's just not ready to get back into a relationship. But we have so much in common! I'm just hoping things will work out between us."

"I think you spend too much time planning your future with this man."

"I know."

"Maybe he isn't sure what he wants. Maybe it's true what he says about not being ready to get back into a relationship. Maybe he doesn't like the idea of being stuck with you forever. You should take things one day at a time. If you enjoy one another's company, then spend time together. When you stop enjoying one another's company, then move on."

"I know, you're right. But I was just hoping things would work out."

"Also, relying on the man for sexual pleasure puts a huge burden on him."

"I know."

"Especially given how difficult it is for you to have orgasms. Not every man has studied sexual kung fu like me. You really should try masturbating more, then you can relax when you two have sex. Think of sex as a way to get intimate with another person, rather than as a source of orgasms. If you have orgasms during sex, then great. Otherwise, just masturbate. It's like eating with a friend is more enjoyable than eating alone. But if the friend isn't around to eat dinner with, then you don't starve yourself. You just eat alone."

"That's a good analogy."

Then more hugging, then kissing and petting outside the clothes, then my hand inside her pants and fingering her, then into the bedroom, where we had a superb round of sex—our best ever and the final putting into practice of everything I've learned about sexual kung fu these past few months. I brought Sarah to an easy orgasm after twenty minutes or so of exquisitely sensitive and perfectly controlled fucking, then had several valley orgasms for myself, and then even had the self-control to avoid a peak orgasm. Instead, we finished up by rolling over while I was still erect and inside her and lay pressed together for another few minutes while my erection gradually subsided.

Another round of sex in the early morning, but I lost control before Sarah came. I explained to her that the reason my control was so good last night was because of all my practicing of sexual kung fu these past two months, and that the reason I lost control this morning was because I violated one of the cardinal rules of sexual kung fu—namely, don't have sex when feeling tired. "It was very good last night," Sarah confirmed. Later, she began to fret: "I feel so guilty. Why is he away for so long? Who knows what he's up to?" Did she ever feel this anxious about me, I wonder? Perhaps a truly happy love affair is only possible when there is a significant age or cultural gap between the partners, so that it is obvious that the relationship is for a limited time only, and everyone tries to avoid conflicts and grab what pleasure they can while they can without worrying about the future. When the partners are evenly matched, on the other hand, everything is poisoned by the specter of permanency.

Lunch with Helen. As usual, she isn't sure about staying with Paul or not, though he is becoming adamant about wanting to get married and have children. He says this will solve all the conflicts they are having. "The blind leading the blind," I commented. "And how are your relationships going?" retorted Helen. Then she got rambunctious and asked how long my cock was and proposed several possible dimensions, in a loud enough voice that people at the neighboring tables could overhear her. I told her to be quiet and behave herself. Later, she said something about not finding Paul attractive anymore, but that she did sometimes think about sex with other men, such as some of her ex-boyfriends. Alas, Helen no longer interests me sexually, though I continue to find her body and face very attractive from a purely aesthetic point of view.

I had called Mark while in my hometown and told him I was getting sick of relatives and so didn't plan to stay three weeks and so we wouldn't be able to connect there as we had planned. As for his visiting me in West Metropolis, I told him I was going to have to insist on "rules"—meaning no smoking my apartment—since otherwise I anticipated that I would end up resenting his presence. He sent me an email later saying he was going to visit another friend in Florida instead of visiting me. I wasn't sorry to hear this.

Tango dancing in the evening at a club I've never been to before but which Jackie mentioned she sometimes visited. She wasn't there tonight, however. I wasn't particularly disappointed, since my desire for her has disappeared since last month. I danced once and did poorly. Mostly this was my fault, though the woman certainly didn't help matters. Or maybe I detected the woman was being uncooperative and that's why I did so poorly. I had some misgivings earlier about this club, and my poor showing just confirmed that it was a mistake to go. The truth is that dancing doesn't make much sense for me at present. Dancing for me has always been either a substitute for sex or a way to meet sex partners, and at present I don't really want sex. In any event, assuming I do go dancing in the future, I should stick to the downtown club, since that offers the best opportunity for hiding in the shadows, in case I feel like watching instead of participating.

I've been very busy these past couple of weeks simplifying my financial affairs, shifting investments, and getting rid of excess possessions. Among the items I gave away was my once-beloved sausage-shaped sofa that I had originally planned to get rid of over two years ago, when I first moved into my current apartment, but then I couldn't bear to part with it since it had been such trouble to have it custom-made in the first place. What a stupid reason for keeping something I no longer want or need! The more things I get rid of, the more I realize what a trap possessions can be. I'm not trying to deprive myself of pleasure, I should note. I've retained the possessions which truly add to my physical comfort.

I called Lisa, who had invited me to a Christmas party, which I was unable to attend due to being out of town. A tiresome conversation. She just broke up with her lover of three years. She might get a promotion at her job. She is having problems with getting her landlord to make repairs. She is much more overweight than in the past. I babbled about traveling, since there is little else to talk about regarding what I've been up to this past year, and then we arranged to possibly have lunch next week. She proposed the lunch and then I didn't have the nerve to refuse nor the quick-wittedness to think of an excuse.

Sarah called and we talked for a while. She had a bad cold or the flu this past week, but went into work every day nonetheless. She hasn't seen her new boyfriend in almost a month, due to his being away for two weeks and then him being sick and then her being sick, but they plan to get together this coming weekend: "I want to know what's going on!" Evidently, she is worried that he might have been seeing other women while off on his trip.

Helen stopped by my apartment to look at some of the pieces of furniture which I plan to give away and which she thought she might want, but she decided not to take any of the items after all. We lay hugging for a while and I stroked her breasts and her crotch through her pants, but she wasn't interested in sex: "I'm sexually dead. I'm more of a virgin now than when I really was a virgin." Then she mentioned that she had a dream of naked men with erect penises, and then she talked vaguely about seeing a therapist to see what her sexual problem is. After a while, she began to get on my nerves and so I told her I had some errands to run and we parted ways.

I decided to take a hiking trip in Europe this spring. The rest of the day I spent buying things for this trip. Speaking of buying things, last month I bought ten shirts of the same style and color. I liked the style and color very much and they were on sale for half-off and I was afraid that, if I didn't "stock up" now, I would never be able to find similar shirts in the future. I mention this because already I am starting to tire of these shirts. And yet each is likely to last several years, or even more, at my rate of wear and tear! What do I have such a scarcity mentality about clothing? Any fool can see that the stores are filled to bursting with clothing in styles and colors I like, and will continue to be so filled for the rest of my life. Clothing is the last thing there is likely to be scarcity of.

Sarah called. I told her about my plan to go hiking in Europe and then asked about her life. She replied that she might be taking a trip to the southwest this spring to investigate retiring there, but that she would be going alone instead of with her new boyfriend. "I have to go alone because men don't want to travel with me." And then she gave me something of a history of her relationship with this new boyfriend. It seems he is the neighbor of Sarah's ex-boyfriend prior to me. This ex-boyfriend, who is in his fifties, left Sarah to get married to a woman in her thirties. Sarah and this ex-boyfriend smile and talk to one another when they cross paths—such as at dances—but aren't really friends anymore. While still seeing this ex-boyfriend, Sarah had been introduced to the new boyfriend, but nothing came come of this introduction until after Sarah and I broke up. At that time, Sarah called her ex-boyfriend and asked him about this other man and then, upon learning he was still single, asked the ex-boyfriend to arrange another introduction.

Though Sarah took the initiative to get the relationship started, the new boyfriend was hardly slow to respond. On their first date, he suddenly began talking about how "You and I can really make it together and no one can get in between us". Then a few days later, he proposed they go bike riding. Unfortunately, Sarah's bike was broken. So he took her to the store and bought her a new bike, costing about $400. "But I'm not used to getting expensive gifts like this," she protested. "You better get used to it," he replied. Then one night over dinner, he was staring at her face intently and she asked why. He replied, "I want to be sure that a woman I'm with is someone I'll always find attractive. And I think that's true about you." Then he proposed they take a trip to Sardinia, and later suggested they drive around the southwest of the United States to investigate possibly retiring together there. Meanwhile, they hadn't been having much sex, nor had they spent the night together even once. So then he suggested they take a shorter trip to see how well they got along together, and then he finally suggested maybe he should just spend the night at Sarah's house. When it came time to go to sleep, he said he had to sleep in a different room. So Sarah fixed up the futon in the spare room, then they turned off the lights, and then a while later she heard him moving about and went to see what was going on. Lo and behold, he was getting dressed again. "I can't spend the night here. It's all going too fast. I'm not sure I can handle it," he told her. Later, he explained that he had only lived with one woman in his life, and that was his wife, who he separated from many years ago. He and his most recent ex-girlfriend were together for twelve years, until she died of cancer, but they never lived together and apparently never spent the night together nor took trips together. As for the idea of traveling with Sarah, he ruled that out, by telling her point-blank one night: "We can never travel together." He and Sarah have only met in person about three times this month, and yet he calls her almost every night and they have pleasant phone conversations, during which he acts as if everything were okay and normal between them.

"Don't you think it's weird the way he's acting?" Sarah asked me.

"I would say he is acting crazy but not necessarily any crazier than the typical man acts when involved with a woman," I replied.

"But what should I do? Do I wait around for him?"

"I don't know. But I can guarantee he won't change. A man in his sixties never changes."

Other than what she told me earlier this month about his not liking to touch, I still don't know the details of their sex life. I'd suspected it to be less than spectacular, but I had no idea that they don't even spend the night together.

Tango dancing in the evening with Sarah. We danced twenty times together, wonderfully at first, but then she began to tire and sag at the waist, so that I had to support her, which tired me and caused my dancing to become choppy. On the whole, however, this was among our best dancing ever. In fact, it was so enjoyable that I couldn't bear the thought of ruining it by dancing poorly with someone else, so during those songs when Sarah was dancing with other men, I just stood in the corner and drank fruit punch. "Now that I'm with you, men are kissing me again," Sarah remarked after a man kissed her on the cheek. Evidently, when she is alone, men tend to be much more reticent in their behavior. I explained my not dancing with other women: "With me, dancing is all or nothing. Either I make love to the woman on the dance floor or I don't want to dance at all. With you, those other men you dance with are friends, but I try to avoid making friends. You might have noticed, I never say hello to anyone."

When we arrived at my neighborhood, I indicated that Sarah could just drop me off at the corner. "I thought I might come up. You said I should see how your apartment looks now without the sofa," Sarah said. That was when I realized that she wanted us to have sex. I had suspected as much earlier but wasn't certain. The sex was good at first, but then my erection withered. Partly because I was tired and partly because I had just gorged on a dozen or more egg rolls at the tango party and partly because both today and yesterday I lost control and had peak orgasms during my morning masturbation session. Too bad I wasn't more aroused, so as to savor Sarah's arousal, which was extreme. During cunnilingus foreplay, I noticed her inner lips were swollen as if about to burst, and her whole body shuddered every time I touched her nipples or clitoris.

Sex in the morning, after washing up. Unlike last night, I had no difficulty maintaining a solid and well-controlled erection. About fifteen minutes of fucking, then I brought Sarah off in the usual clitoris rubbing way. I might have had a peak orgasm myself, just as Sarah came, though it is also possible I restrained myself and had a valley orgasm instead. I find it difficult to tell what is happening when the woman is thrashing about beneath me the way Sarah does when she comes. All in all, an excellent bout of sex. Though Sarah and I still fail to produce the sense of timelessness that I experienced with Elizabeth.

Over breakfast, Sarah briefly described the situation with the man who she was hoping would become her new lover. "What is happening with us?" she asked him over the phone. He replied that he didn't know but that maybe they should be friends for now and see where that leads, and that he's set in his ways and doesn't see how he can change. Then she talked about planning to read some books about women's sexuality which she heard mentioned on the radio. Maybe she is coming to accept the idea of having a man friend her own age plus a lover—like me—on the side.

Sarah called and suggested I visit her in the suburbs. She had planned to go bike-riding with her new boyfriend, but then he ducked out with an excuse about having a backache. "Oh, well, poor fellow, I shouldn't laugh I guess," said Sarah. We walked to the cafe, sat there for a while, then had dinner back at the house, followed by sex. My control was perfect up until the end, when I lost control just as Sarah was about to come. Just as my orgasm can trigger hers, hers tends to trigger mine. This isn't a problem when she is more or less relaxed, because then this linkage merely causes us to come simultaneously. But when she is very tense, as today, the linkage is delayed, so that my orgasm is finished before hers is fully underway, and thus she ends up unsatisfied. I don't know what I can do about this. I think the correct solution is for her to learn to relax more.

I woke up in the middle of the night, with my head full of thoughts about things to buy for my Europe trip—such as a wind-resistant umbrella and a new toiletries bag and a collapsible walking stick. I even got up and sat in the living room for a while with the light on, making notes in my notebook. After about an hour, I returned to bed and went back to sleep again.

Sarah's boyfriend called in the morning and they talked briefly while I puttered around in the kitchen. "This is really shitty the way I'm acting, isn't it? Talking to him in one room while you're in the other. But then he's said we're just friends for now, so maybe it doesn't matter. Doesn't it feel weird to you?" asked Sarah. I responded truthfully that I did not feel weird or uncomfortable. She then explained that she and the boyfriend had arranged to go bike-riding again, later in the day.

Another bout of sex after breakfast. Mutual oral sex this time. I sometimes have difficulty keeping a solid erection in this position, but perhaps this isn't a problem, since with my cock only semi-hard Sarah can swallow it entirely, so that when I thrust my balls and pubic hair press against her nose. After she came, I inserted my cock, which was still only semi-hard, into her cunt, whereupon it immediately stiffened up hard as a rock. Several valley orgasms for me and then we stopped. An intense but not particularly long-lasting bout of sex. No more than ten minutes from the time we got into bed until the time I stopped moving, with another twenty minutes of resting together afterwards.

Lunch with Helen, who has been busy working the personal ads: "My plan is to live alone but have lots of lovers. They come by and then they leave, so I can get a good night's sleep." My impression from listening to her was that she is avoiding the men who might be sexually exciting and concentrating instead on the nutcases. She hasn't seen Paul in several weeks.

Sarah came by in the evening. I did her taxes and then she treated for dinner at a restaurant. She asked my opinion as to why her new boyfriend had apparently dropped her, after having come on so strongly at first. I replied that I didn't know, but that regardless, she should plan on living independently. She replied that she often feels depressed when she is alone, especially on weekends. "My life seems pointless." I suggested that this might be because Sarah is out of touch with her body and that she should try masturbating. Physical pleasure is what gives zest to life, is my theory, because it is renewable and cyclic. Sarah nodded and acted like she heard me, but I have the impression that what I say to her about masturbation goes in one ear and out the other.

Sex when we returned to my apartment. My control was excellent and my erection solid, but neither of us was particularly aroused and neither of us came. Instead, we just rolled about kissing and slowly fucking for about thirty minutes, and then stopped and soon thereafter fell asleep.

I tried sex again in the morning, before we got up, but again Sarah didn't seem too aroused. I came, in the hopes that this might help bring her off, but no such luck. Then I reflected that it really isn't my fault if the woman doesn't come, and this peak orgasm of mine was a mistake. I should never come if I can avoid it.

Lunch with Helen. Her invitation, since I had little desire to see or speak to her myself. I got tired of listening to her babbling about her dates with the men who've answered her personals ad. The usual drivel about how this one was weird and that one had given a very meaningful glance as they parted ways. Finally, I could take no more and so snapped at her, to which she replied: "One good thing about us having lunch is that no matter how bad things go with this guy I'm meeting tonight, he's going to look great compared to you." Then she stood up and walked off. I followed, turning outside the restaurant so as to go in a different direction. The truth is, I get very little any more from this relationship of mine with Helen, and she no doubt gets little from it either. It's time for both of us to move on with our lives.

Sarah spent the evening at my apartment. An excellent session of sex, with simultaneous orgasms, then we lay in bed for several hours afterwards, talking of various topics. Tango dancing after that. I did poorly, due to being relaxed from the sex and hence unable to concentrate. But an enjoyable time nonetheless. I only danced with Sarah whereas she danced with many other men.

The next day, I spent the evening at her house. We talked on the sofa, she fixed dinner, sex, then more talking, a late night snack of dessert before going to sleep. More sex in the morning, but I lost control just as Sarah was coming. Luckily, I managed to hang on long enough for her orgasm to complete. I really have to think of some way to get her to come other than using clitoris manipulation, or else develop the ability not to come myself when using this method. An hour at the cafe, then I took the bus home.

Helen called, wanting to know if I would help her move furniture this coming weekend. I agreed to help, and then we had a pleasant enough phone conversation. She is currently dating several men she met through the personal ads, but she hasn't had sex with any of them yet, and she is finding choosing between them to be stressful. It occurred to me that this frenzy of furniture buying, which comes just weeks after Helen got rid of a bunch of old furniture, is her way of relieving the stress. The more obvious approach, of course, would be to have sex with one or both of the men. I didn't tell these thoughts to Helen since I didn't want an argument.

Sarah seemed frantic all day, probably from sexual frustration due to not coming during sex with me yesterday evening. When we climbed into bed tonight, I decided to use mutual oral sex, where I can almost always cause her to come with zero risk of my coming. Sure enough, she came without difficulty.

"The reason you were feeling out of sorts today was because you get all blocked up when you don't have sex. This has happened to you before, I've noticed, and you don't even realize what the problem is. You really need to get more in touch with your body and learn to let the energy flow freely without sex," I told her afterwards.

"I know. Otherwise I become very dependent on sex and that's not such a good position to be in," said Sarah, as if completing my thoughts.

"Exactly."

Dinner with Helen at the cafe, after I helped her move the new furniture from her car to her apartment. A pleasant conversation. She insists that what she is really looking for right now is wild sex with a stranger. Of the various men she is dating, the one who interests her most is married with children. She finds him attractive because he is unlikely to want a long-term relationship. She hasn't spoken to Paul in over a month.

Sarah came by in the evening. An excellent bout of fucking followed by mutual oral sex, with an orgasm for her and with perfect control for me. Afterwards, tango dancing, where I became disgusted at the music. One tango-for-rhythmic-retards song after another until I thought I was going to explode with frustration. "God and country—it takes a fascist mentality to enjoy music like this," I muttered to Sarah as I began to feel my body rebelling against the rhythm. "You should complain to the deejay," she suggested. I shrugged. Anyone so crude as to play this dreck is clearly someone who could never appreciate my musical sensibilities, other than to recognize that I pose a threat to his sense of fascistic orderliness, and so what's the point of complaining? Besides, I can already hear the knee-jerk retort: "If you know so much, why don't you be the deejay?" Well, no, I'm not an expert on tango music, and no, I don't really have such a great collection of tango music disks myself, but that doesn't mean I can't tell the difference between crap versus quality, anymore than not being able to bake a cake doesn't mean I'm not qualified to judge the quality of someone else's cake. At least Sarah and I danced the waltzes nicely, so the evening wasn't a total loss. And I think she had a good time dancing with various other men.

Lunch with Helen, who revealed that she had sex with her new boyfriend (the one who is married with children), but the sex was painful for her. "I'm worried though, I might be falling in love with this guy."

Most of my days this past month have been spent taking long walks to and from the wilderness park—about two hours walk each way—and lying on a log there after eating my lunch of fruit and chocolate, and looking out at the water and trees and clouds, and fantasizing about putting all my possessions into storage and living out of hotels for several years. I've also been busy buying things for my hiking trip, and then deciding that what I just bought isn't right, so buying something else instead, and then being dissatisfied with that as well. At times I feel guilty about wasting money on these unnecessary purchases, until I reflect that my total waste is less than what I spend on apartment rent each month. Meanwhile, I'm gaining something very valuable for all this chaotic buying and getting rid of items. Namely, an understanding of what it is I truly need in the way of material possessions in this world, which is very little.

I took the bus to Sarah's house in the afternoon. We worked on preparing to transition to my computer (which I am planning to lend her while I'm away), then she went off for two hours to a party of a friend. Neither of us really wanted to go but she felt obligated to attend. After she returned, we got into bed for sex. I started with foreplay, moved quickly to fucking, had a few valley orgasms for myself, then pulled out and positioned myself for mutual oral sex. Sarah had some difficulty coming, but when she did finally come, it was an extraordinarily intense orgasm—moaning and thrashing about for almost a minute afterwards. She slept very soundly, curled up against me.

Another round of sex after breakfast. My plan was to repeat the fucking following by mutual oral sex technique that worked so well last night, but then I lost control while fucking. Though my being highly aroused didn't help matters, the primary cause of this loss of control was that my bladder was full, which is a sexual kung fu no-no. I was aware of my bladder being full during foreplay but was too lazy to interrupt things to take a piss. The lesson to be learned is that it is essential to follow all of the sexual kung fu rules, regardless of how unromantic they may seem. Sarah wanted me to stay all day with her, but I was anxious to get home and test out some new ideas for my packing list and so I left at about two in the afternoon.

Mark called. I half-seriously talked of planning to take up a new career as a telephone psychic, which he found interesting, since he shares my interest in astrology and tarot. I promised to send him a key to my apartment, in case he wants to visit while I'm away.

Lunch with Helen. She had sex again with her new lover, and things seem to be going well with their relationship, though she found the sex somewhat painful and now has a "bladder infection" from it. Since this new lover is married, she doesn't have to worry about their relationship getting too involved, at least for now. Or so she says.

Sarah called. She says she is feeling a sort of free-floating anger of late, and doesn't know why. I suspect one cause for her anger may be that all my conversation of late has been about my trip and my packing list and what Sarah needs to do to prepare for transitioning from her old and next-to-useless computer to mine, with nary a word said about any feelings I might have about missing Sarah the three months I will be away. Instead, I act almost gleeful about leaving her behind. Which isn't far from the truth of how I feel. While I've come to like Sarah more and more over the past year, I still feel suffocated by her whenever we spend much time together. Too bad she wasn't able to develop a stronger platonic relationship with the man she was dating a few months ago. This might have removed some of the pressure on me to keep her from feeling lonely.

The next day, I called her. Maybe I was wrong about my being the cause of her anger. From the way she describes it, it is her work environment that is the problem. "They treat me like the village idiot there, and I'm the one who does all the work!" I suspect there is truth in this. Sarah is very competent and intelligent, but is also without a trace of viciousness and hence she is easy to pick on, since her tormentor doesn't have to worry about her taking revenge. I suspect she really does get treated as badly as she describes.

Lunch with Helen. She is on a tear with her own journal, and is happy with her new lover. They are practicing tantric sex, being Shakti and Shiva together, in an attempt to heal her from all the sexual trauma she supposedly suffered from men like me and Paul.

Mutual oral sex with Sarah in the afternoon, with an orgasm for her, then a rest, then fucking with numerous valley orgasms for me. Then I showed her how to use my computer, which I'll be leaving at her house while I'm away, since Sarah's computer is old and very slow by comparison. Sex again at night. Cunnilingus, fucking with valley orgasms for me, mutual oral sex, then I grew tired due to having drunk a half-bottle of wine.

[several months later]

I had planned to keep a paper journal during my recent hiking trip in Europe, but almost as soon as I arrived there, I realized how tired I was of writing about my life and so that was the end of that. Then when I got back home, I realized that I was tired of journal-keeping in general. So the era of frequents updates to this journal is now over. But even if I had kept a journal during my trip, there wouldn't have been much to write about. I went tango dancing the day after I arrived, and immediately realized I wasn't interested in having a fling or even in meeting or talking to anyone, of either gender, and so I stuck to myself from then on. I even mailed back the dress clothes I had brought along, so I would have less to carry. I took various multi-day walks from town to town, as described in my guidebook. The walking was enjoyable, but now that it is over, I'm not sure I would do it again. Nor am I too keen on any more traveling of any sort.

More than anything, what I gained from this trip was a greater acceptance of my preference for a life of solitude and idleness. I've long been aware of this preference, however accepting it has been another story. Even now, I have my doubts as to whether I am really ready to fully embrace the monkish lifestyle of celibacy (with respect to partner sex), withdrawal from society, and indifference to material objects and social status.

I should note that isn't so much that the worldly life causes me great pain, as that it brings me so little additional pleasure, beyond what I get from the monkish life, that even a small amount of pain will tend to tip the balance into negative territory, and yet pain is inevitable in the worldly life. Thus, for example, sex with Sarah gives me pleasure, beyond the pleasure I get from masturbation, but is this additional pleasure enough to justify an hour's commute to reach her house in the suburbs? Or the effort of making conversation with her when I get there? Or the nuisance of more or less following her sleep/wake-up schedule, in case I stay the night? Or the frustration associated with not masturbating on those days when I'll be seeing her, so as to be fully energized during sex? Or the added risks of peak orgasm (since sexual control is much harder to maintain during partner sex than during masturbation) and resulting loss of energy?

To a large degree, I'm back on track with the lifestyle I already had laid out for myself at the age of fifteen. Namely, to achieve financial independence and then live alone in a small apartment in the middle of a big city, with most of my waking hours spent lying in bed, reading and masturbating. I'm more serene and altogether much happier than when I was fifteen, in part because I've now achieved financial independence rather than being at the stage of merely planning and working towards that goal, and in part because of what I've learned of sexual kung fu, which allows for essentially unlimited sexual pleasure as opposed to sexual pleasure ending with peak orgasm. But otherwise, I'm not sure I've really changed much over these last twenty-five years. I suspect the changes over the next twenty-five years will be even less.

Sarah announced to me when I returned that she had met and was now "seeing someone else". My reaction to this news was a mixture of relief and apathy. I'm happy to be free, but then again, my relationship with Sarah was feeble enough that I already was almost free and so hardly anything has really changed. Nor was I really surprised. Indeed, part of why I took such a long trip was no doubt because I subconsciously wanted and expected Sarah to meet someone else while I was away. Sarah wants us to remain friends, which certainly is fine with me, since I could use a responsible friend in the area with whom to reciprocate favors now and then. Eventually Sarah and her new lover will probably have a falling out, in which case I wouldn't be surprised if Sarah wanted to resume having sex with me. I probably wouldn't resist, but than again, I'm not really looking forward to being in a relationship again, neither with Sarah nor with anyone else.

Helen and Paul broke up and got back together several times while I was away and are supposedly currently thinking of breaking up for good. The usual story, in other words. Not that this really concerns me, since I have no intention of getting back together with Helen myself, though she'll always have a place in my heart.

[another several months later]

Now that I've been back from my trip for two months, I'm getting restless again. The problem isn't with living alone nor with spending most my time lying in bed, masturbating and reading, but rather that I feel burdened down somehow, sunk into materialism, due to renting this apartment, owning furniture and other physical possessions, and living in a fixed place. I long to be homeless, living out of a small backpack the way I was during my recent trip, drifting from cheap hotel room to cheap hotel room. Sort of like a Western version of the Hindu samnyasin, or renunciate, who owns little more than the clothes on his back and spends his life wandering from monastery to monastery, never staying in one place more than three days. Unlike the samnyasin, who live on alms, I would support myself from earnings on my investments, which really isn't so great a difference as it at first appears. Both Hindu samnyasin and ascetic Western rentier consume modest amounts of material goods and services, while neither produces anything of economic value. The issue of alms versus earnings from investments simply reflects differences in economic systems between the ancient and modern worlds. In both cases, compensation for goods and services received from the rest of society is spiritual in nature. By purifying himself of the dross of materialism, the renunciate is transformed into a living vessel for the reception and transmission of the divine light—a reminder to others of life's possibilities. As for when I plan to make the big jump towards the wandering renunciate lifestyle, I don't know, a year or two from now perhaps. I need some time to clarify my thinking.