I am in Maine seeing J. I missed the first flight Friday morning so I spent a long day waiting at O'Hare for the second flight. Luckily I got on the next one at 1pm or I'd have to wait standby on the next one at 4pm. When I landed I was tired and grumpy, after only sleeping for two hours because I hung out with C the night before.

It's beautiful here. So often I've wished I had my camera with me. It's more like New England than any other part. Delapidated barns, changing leaves, seagulls, amber skies; very picturesque. So often I've considered moving to such a place to settle down but I think I'd go nuts here. It's far too remote, I need more activity to keep me sane.
It's spooky too, so much of New England is. A lot of it seems abandoned or shut down. Lots of dark woods and at this time of year it's creepy.

We've been to Kennebunkport, Freeport, York, and are staying in Eliot. The house we're in is beautiful, very nicely decorated and homey. I think the owner spends most of her time decorating.
Freeport is a surreal place. Everyone there looks like they stepped out of an LL Bean catalog. The town is full of clothing stores and expensive shops and everyone is wearing tasteful, modest camping and outdoor clothes. Most of the people in Maine are older; middle aged and seniors because all the younger people move out to live somewhere with more excitement but it's perfect for older people. It's a very calm, sedate place. As long as you have a good fire and a lot of winter clothes it's not so bad. Nothing is open past nine here.

I finally got a winter coat. If I didn't get one in the next day or so I'd be miserable. It's a pretty good one too, it should keep me warm for most of the winter. It's good to have a nice jacket again.

I'm only writing in this site for me now. I've told very few people and those that I did have most likely forgotten. I'm going to put exactly what I feel, which has been like shit lately. I'm not going to try to hide it or censor it. I want to know exactly how I'm thinking right now if I look at this down the road.

I've decided that if things don't improve I'm going to give away what little I have left, say goodbye to all those that I've cared about in my life, rent a car and drive off a mountain. Whenever I've pictured killing myself it's always been in the desert. It's huge and empty. By the time anyone finds my remains there'll be too little left and I can just disappear, which is how I want it. I can't seem to find my place in life so I'll just take myself out of it. I think more and more I should have died in my accident at age 12. Things haven't been right since. I keep feeling like I shouldn't have been here. I probably shouldn't have. I was meant to die then but by some fluke I survived but there was no room for me.

Before, when I was a kid, and thought of this I always did it out of spite. I wanted attention so badly I thought maybe at least I could get it at my funeral. I don't care about that now. I just want out. Thank god I never had any kids and won't leave everyone behind. Most people will forget about me in a couple of months, which is how I want it.

I feel bad about leaving Kam and J, they will be the only ones that will really be hurt by it and I'm sure that fact will keep me around longer.
My dad seems so sad anyway, and has gone through so much, I don't think this will cause any lasting harm.
My brother will be sad but I know he's the type of guy that can handle it. My SIL probably already expects me too sooner or later. Thankfully my niece and nephews are still kids so they probably won't remember me much.
My oldest brother I hardly see anymore anyway.
I miss my mom. If she was still around things would be so much different.

Nothing is going especially wrong now, I just feel so removed from the world. I don't talk to anyone all day, I just float around. There's no reason to be here. I don't feel comfortable around people at all. It's getting colder and that always depresses me. I see all that people have in their lives- a house, car, friends and I wonder how they got all that and why it is so difficult for me to get any of those things.

Last night was bad. Everything I am worried about seemed to hit me. I have many more concerns than I usually realize. Everyone has them to some extent, so I'm not that different, I just let them consume me.

I worry that I've squandered all the good things I've had. I worry my life is slowly going to worsen and the good parts of it are over. I have very few friends, my family is far away and cares little for me, I have difficulty finding a job. I don't know if I'll ever find the solutions to those problems. It's hard for me to trust, I don't know what I can do to help my job situation that I haven't already done.

Writing is a miserable way to live. To be good at it you have to lock yourself away and focus you entire life on writing and improving your style. Writers by trade are very anti social, mostly miserable people. Your life focuses on your work. If it's not going well nothing in your life seems to be. Every wonder why so many writers are junkies, drunks or otherwise fucked up? Burroughs, Hemingway, Faulkner....

Today my writing is going ok.

My life bleh. I have felt like I've been on the verge of something serious for years. I keep feeling like I'm one step away from a major catastrophe. For too long I've thought that but for the luck of the draw I could be homeless, diseased or dead. Being alone isn't a problem, I constantly think of suicide. I just go through periods where I think of it less.
I wear earplugs when I sleep. It's something I had to do to get any sleep when I lived in the dorm at school. They completely shut off all sound and I felt like I was completely alone when I closed my eyes. It was so peaceful and I could rest in peace.
I've taken that habit with me and most nights I still wear earplugs though not for the same reasons. They shut out sounds but I mostly wear them for a sense of solitude. When I'm wearing them I feel completely shut off. I try to keep them in as long as I can when I wake.

I have a love/hate feeling for other people. Sometimes I hate being alone, I've always been and I feel like I always will be but then I get around people and I can't wait to go home and be alone and away from them. I see people my age with a family, kids and how they're up early, people always somewhere nearby, never any peace. I would go batshit crazy. Maybe that's a social problem too- always needing to be around people. Dependency?

Writers are such solitary, miserable people. I don't consider myself one yet, that's too ridiculous, yet I know I have the character down. Looking back at my life it seems I was destined to be one. Writing can be agonizing and slow but I feel like I must do it. It's really the only thing I really have and without it nothing would matter much. Even with it sometimes dying seems so preferable.

Things are progressing slowly. Life is peaceful but too calm. I find myself going back to old habits of staying home and working in my room; writing, reading, a movie here and there. It has become my life. Not a bad life, I enjoy it but things move at a snail's pace. I'm spending a lot of time studying myself, what I want and what I need. That was one of the purposes of this site. I wonder if I can look back on this in a year or years and see what I was up to then. Is it an online diary like Doogie Howser keeps? That comparison keeps coming up in my head. If so, I will say to the future me, "It is 630pm and I will probably have pizza for dinner. I went to bed at 4am last night and slept late. I haven't showered for two days and I kind of like the smell. Tell me, future me, have you shaved your head yet? How does it look? I'm eager to know."

One thing I've overlooked through all this is how much my body has changed. I used to be very muscular, almost to the point of being a regular at the gym. Now I'm slightly less strong but my muscles are compact, not as big but I feel stronger. I'm stiff all the time from exercising and I don't take hours out of my day to keep in shape like I used to.

I woke up Sunday and my mind wandered to KT. I wasn't longing for her, I was just looking over the whole situation. For the first time I seemed to see things from a different perspective. The way she acted and how she treated me was really shitty and all that I ever felt for her has turned to anger. I don't have any enemies in the world anymore but I can honestly say I detest her. I don't want to spend too much time on this, I just feel like this is the final chapter.

Unfortunately her actions have really colored how I look at women. That will pass but it gave me a wake up call about marriage. I now know I will never get married. I see so many men and women with such fucked up views on marriage and how disposable it is that the divorce rate in this country will skyrocket in the coming years. People are too selfish, too greedy, too warped from childhood, too emotionally selfish to really take it seriously. I trust very few women. Thankfully, I have no desire to ever get married. I feel lonely sometimes but am more independent than most anyone I know. When I think of how miserable I was in some relationships, the happier I am that I'm single. I have a lot to accomplish on my own and I can't do it always looking after a woman that needs someone to look after her like KT did.

Funny thing is, something tells me she will call eventually and when that happens we are going to have a long talk.

It's not even 11pm but it feels much later.

Doing my best to ignore this Sunday. When I was a kid no one ever had anything to do on Sundays so we'd all stay in the house and end up fighting. My father and my brother were particularly hard to get along with when bored. They'd start fights.
When my brothers left I was alone for two years. I'd just go in my room and listen to music and think- think way too much. My dad had thrown away anything that could hold my interest. I just had to go over shit in my head again and again. I always thought about my life and what I wasn't happy with. That seemed to be the only thing I could think about, it plagued me every Sundays. I couldn't even think of ways to improve, all that I seemed to concentrate on is all the bad things. That went away for many years, I had other things to concern myself with and though I know more people in Chicago since I've moved here than people I knew in Boston when I moved, I can't shake the feeling. Every Sunday I try to avoid it. Most times I fail. It hit me at about nine pm tonight, the same shit; job, friends, mistakes I've made. I did a lot to change that today but until I have I'll keep feeling shitty every Sunday.

Somehow I knew I'd always end up here. In high school and college, when I thought of where I would be in ten years, I imagined myself living alone, going out rarely, knowing few people and spending the brunt of my time sequestered away writing. At the time I figured I'd live somewhere very hot like Florida or Southern Georgia and sweat constantly. Now I'm in a place known for especially harsh winters.
Most everyone is predestined for their life. By the age of fifteen or so it could be fairly accurately predicted by anyone with enough sense. I was never social and preferred to be alone. At the same time my mind was always wandering, thinking of ridiculous fantasies. In class I'd think about what I'd do if I lived a certain way or had the option to do whatever I wanted. My imagination got very elaborate and, with nothing else to amuse me at home, it overwhelmed a lot in my life. I had very vivid dreams, so much so that at times I'd confuse them with reality. I was writing in my head for years, as long as I could remember, and would spend weekends in the college dorm writing pointless things on pads of paper. I hadn't learned how to write yet and looking over some of those pads years later I could hardly believe they were things I'd done.
I knew I'd be here so I shouldn't be surprised or regret it. It's something I wanted.