So – I left. Early. Was actually there only one full day. Should feel embarrassed about it, but am okay with admitting that during ‘Loving and Kindness’ time, I hid in my cell (above, pictured) until everyone was loving and kind. Don’t get me wrong, I saw a lot of people there who seemed to be getting a lot out of it and should that be your thing, then by all means…

However – if I want suffering, I can simply call a few ex-girlfriends and ask them what I’m like to be with. A few pints with Ollie or Tim will tell me everything I need in self-awareness. Indefinite silence? I’m jobless, broke, 32 and scared of commitment. Quiet solitude should be easy enough to find. Enlightenment? I’ll get it on the road, thanks.

When I get the chance, I’ll transcribe my (illegal) diary entries the short time I was there, but suffice to say the compound (the huts we assumed to be staying in (below, photo) were for the monks) was ‘Auschwitz’ in nature (my neighbor said it, I didn’t – he lasted 4 hours less than I),  and hearing things like ‘sadness and sorrow can be cured with simple breathing techniques’ just seems a bit…well, passive-escapist to me.

I’ll say the same thing for Buddhism as I do for homosexuality. Both have a very kind demographic and have seriously contributed to some lovely home decor, but, as I’ve tried ‘em both, I can tell you; it ain’t for me.