The kid got had fever and nausea and was in bad shape. Put him in hospital and thank god it wasn’t dengue, seemed more like bad sushi (his favorite, until now). We had to put him in hospital, but even with shitty insurance the bill was like Rs. 43,000. For a two night stay. This is obviously insane.

It’s mango season, in my landlord’s garden at least. Almost every morning I get a sackful of mangoes, or the landlady slides them in the door. They’re good mangos but I honestly don’t know what to do with them anymore. Everything smells like mango now, my breath, the fridge, the garbage, the kitchen. Even the water tastes like mango. I give bags away to anyone that visits, I feed the cows, but I still have more.

Christo Raymond was a dark/light, young/old and deeply conflicted man. He died yesterday, which came as a great surprise. For everyone who’s known him, he is and always was deeply, truly alive. At one point I thought he might become my father-in-law so I made some tentative effort to know the man. I never found a single clue. He was alive. Now he is dead. That is all I can say with any certainty.

This Poya I tried to take sil, as best as I could. With much accommodation, it’s been quite nice. I had one decent meditation, some awareness throughout the day, and some pleasant interactions with people I care about. I haven’t really used Facebook, checked mail or done anything that could be construed as work or entertainment, except when I kinda had to. It’s an interesting experience, and one I’d like to repeat.

I was thinking of someone that died today, and I thought: What if love is an imprint on your heart, A memory, a palimpsest, Something you can recall. I was just brushing my teeth. Those were the words I had in my head.

Alex’s mom is a ho. She’s a cat, but still. For the last few months there’ve been any amount of mewling, petulant Toms skulking around the garden, sneaking into the kitchen and peeing on stuff. Now, predictably, she’s pregnant again. Worst of all, since I adopted her last surviving kitten, I feed her sometimes as well. I’m pretty sure she’s going to give birth on my verandah.

The worst days are the ones that don’t end, like yesterday. The best days are often ones where something tragic doesn’t happen, making ordinary life incredibly sweet. Today was a bit of both.

Richard Dawkins (scientist and popular writer) spoke at the Galle Literary Festival. His talk covered evolution, alien life, Buddhism and – of course – organized religion. I think that religion is part of human evolution, like any other trait, not something opposed to it. But anyways, here are a few videos and tweeted quotes from Dawkins presentation before we get into it. He’s damn interesting and the crowd was electric and packed.

You know when you go off the net for a while, then you come back and nothing has really changed? One time I went off for six days and when I came back the Arab world was on fire. But that doesn’t happen often. Most of the time you come back and there’s 30 minutes of email and reading that you would have normally spent the whole day on. Makes you wonder.

I used to walk everywhere in Montreal, take the metro or the bus, or bicycle. It was great. Been trying a similar lifestyle here, but it’s hard. Streets are literally quite shitty. I was walking around Wellawatte and this guy was walking his dog in front of me. The dog shits and they both keep walking. If I didn’t see, I would step in the shit. This is where everybody walks, so the next person will step in the shit. Dude doesn’t give a shit.