Even

I gave away my computer. It was too tempting... Alex folded the napkin into a tight crease.
Tempting? Alex continued to press the napkin edge between fingernails. What - pornography? gambling?
No, just... online games. You know, the kind where you collaborate with other members.
Second Life? This was interesting.
No. Multiplayer games. Anything where there are points and plots and repetitive tasks. Alex gets up and pours a glass of water. The tasks are ... the opposite of meditation. You know? Concentrated distraction, focused thought.
Are you joking?
No. Alex throws down the napkin. I get anxious just thinking about what someone will say.
They're just words, Alex...
But how can you tell?
Tell what? I'd never seen Alex like this.
Tell what the person meant. What the intent was. Alex paces the room, tapping the shelf on each cycle. I don't know whether to greet someone when I join them in battle, or say thanks if they heal me...
You mean heal your character? In the game?
Right. He taps the shelf again. But what is the protocol? Different characters behaving differently in the same situations. There's no sense to it.
Protocol? Can you stop the pacing a minute? Alex abruptly stops next to the fish tank. Look, are you saying you have social anxiety in an online game? Where nobody knows who you are?
I know how it sounds. Alex is looking at the fish now. I understand. But what is the difference between playing and real life?
Exactly.
Exactly? But in real life we don't have hit points on public display do we?
Don't be absurd. Aren't you the one always telling us to let go of attachment? Find original self because this body, this self is no more real than... than the passing clouds? Alex turns around to look me straight, and I suddenly think he might be playing me. Oh. OK, so you're just fucking with me? OK. I breathe out. You had me going there a minute.
Long pause. Not comfortable.
Don't.
Don't what?
Just... don't. Alex picks up his glass and heads to the sink. I feel a tingling in my forehead, like being in a dream I cannot stop or alter. I thought... somehow this would make sense to you.
Opening the spigot too wide, water jumps out of the glass. Damn. Do you have napkins up here? Hang on, I'll be right back.
I tried to find him an hour or so later, but by then he had split - probably back to the monastery. The book he loaned me was still on the shelf, the shelf he had been tapping, like to point it out to me. Several pages were dog-eared, but one opened easily on a creased spine:

Koan 23. What is your original face, the one you had before you were born?

In this moment I had a profound realization that I needed a drink.