You take offence because you think you actually exist.

Within me is a world called PerillaCove, and around me is a translucent shield of sorts ... like a bubble ... and I am immune to judgements and opinions of the humans of this earth. They are ... non-player characters ... NPCs right? I find that to be a useful and fitting little term.

This morning, I woke up in my Tokyo hotel, walked five minutes to the nearest supermarket, and picked up only the most delicious peaches and grapes, along with peanuts and milk. This will be my breakfast. There is nothing like the East Asian peach; South Korea and Japan have truly mastered this summer-season fruit to the point of maximal juiciness and fruity abundance. The grapes are similarly sublime.

My dinner tonight will be tonkotsu ramen; I love the spice and solitude of Ichiran. That and a jumbo apple or pear for dessert and I'm off to the races. Again. My day time would've spent at a cozy cafe enjoying a matcha latte and perusing my Mac book.

I do not exist. I see the world for what is is. I see people going to and from work, living in their little capsules, chatting in their little cubicles, wearing their branded clothing, making weekend plans, and watching shorts not movies. This is their life ... apparently. But who knows. I only know my own. I only know what I see through my eyes and feel through my heart. Every person, dog, and song is just a part of my dome of Awareness. I am awake ... yet I can't be touched.

What on earth is revenge? Why would I wage war against an NPC ... they just appeared like a fly in my sphere of perception. And then they vanished. This is a stream of experience like a walk around Seokchon Lake with 들깨시래기탕 on my mind ... perilla seed and radish leaf soup with spicy balloon flower root (도라지), tofu, and kimchi on the side.

If only you could taste it. My mother did once. My wife too, but she's a local. Wow. My life is an IMAX movie, 24/7. This arena ... I don't exist in this arena to get hurt, to take damage. I am practically invisible, identity-less. I just float ... there is nothing to do but build, explore, eat, and float.

My free-form movement is guided by my breath. Time does not exist. This is what I call the body moment. I have bridged space and structural flow ... the rotation of nature is in curved lines of my palms. This deep breath heals, cleans, discards, and alerts. I do 15 strict pull-ups ... explosive on the the way up, but controlled when gravity is on my side in descent. Fast twitch, slow twitch. This is my park. My body is my spaceship.

By the way, why do these NPCs hate durian ... it's like this commonly-shared and predictable hatred. Apparently it's the smell. Have they ever tasted it with an open mind and open palate? It's seriously one of the most satisfying things I've ever had. I will always cherish my days enjoying this creamy yellow custard bomb in Malaysia, Vietnam, and Thailand ... just thinking to myself life is too damn good. What the hell is the commotion about?

I have been forever changed by some places, a few things, and a person or two. They've surfaced, some stay, many leave. Yeah ... my brain is 'up there' but I am feeling Alive in every cell of my body. Coffee, self-help books, and gym machines just don't cut it for me; they are second-rate lines of defence in this life of water winter focus and sun savannah performance. Who am I performing for? I've been nomadic with my laptop for the better part of a decade. What a joke, performance. Now I'm in a humble Canadian abode with my sweet and cheerful Korean wife.

Body, and Mind.

Full, and Empty.

Ambitionless, I am firing on all cylinders as a matter of sheer accident ... as a product of a fully empty bodymind.