People continue to disappoint.  Of course my Buddhist friends will chime in, as they always do: “Disappointment is the unavoidable punishment for those foolish enough to have expectations.”  And they are correct.  However.  I spent a lot of years exploring the tenets and attempting to incorporate Yoda-like slogans such as the one supra and was only able to finally figure out that while the Buddhists are absolutely right about achieving true happiness, I am not a Buddhist.  That is no way a rejection of their teachings, it’s an admission of failure: I don’t have what it takes to live that kind of life.  Yes, being attached to anything is really quite dangerous, and if one truly wants to be happy, one should strive to be passionless, but I’ve found it impossible to live that way and make those choices and still be any kind of artist.  And it’s an unacceptably boring way to live.  Some of the best parts of life are the mistakes…the egregious, passionate fuck ups.  Maybe not in the moment, and maybe not even in the aftermath.  But when you’re looking over the entirety of it, when you’re horizontal with a tube in your nose figuring out that no matter how many people are in the room, we are all completely alone when we die, and you look back at your entire furlough on this absurd planet, the parts that will make you snicker out loud and smile are going to be the “mistakes.”
So yes, people continue to disappoint.
Besides, I like liquor and meat far too much to ever hack it as any kind of real Buddhist.

N.P.: “Boxcar Blues” – Gary Hoey