Late in the evenings before heading off to my rest is when I get most of my writing done, and where I spend most of my reflecting time. It is in these moments that my mind is free to wander about the random things in life, generally accompanied by my own personal soundtrack from my computer. Music is incredibly important to me. Right now I am listening to “Hit me Baby One More Time,” by Travis. It’s a great song. Makes me nostalgic a bit. My own piece of drama.

I think on the past, the present, the future. I think about loneliness and weather I really do feel alone despite the overwhelming amount of close friends I have. Despite the overwhelming amount of people who consider me close friends, neither jealous of those I also share myself with. I am supremely well surrounded, and yet there is little romance in my life at the moment. I might as well blame it on the ass, but I think that in large part I don’t want to be with someone for the sake of being with someone. My experience has shown that forcing leads to disastrous ends. Better to leave it to the magical science of chemistry. This is a topic I think very much on. I guess perhaps I just miss the attention. I don’t know.

I don’t know if I get very much accomplished during these sessions of self analysis. Most of that which I learn about myself is by analyzing my behavior, reactions in social situations as they are happening or based on other people’s observations. I learn most of life’s lessons by screwing up and then seeing someone make the same mistake. More often than not sense is only achieved when I begin to draw parallels.

I am very frustrated with my writings. I can’t seem to dialogue. I have been trying over the past several months to write out conversations between people. Any conversations, about anything. I am fully capable of relating descriptions, professions with my writings. I am a fair actor for one who has no experience. I can lie, like a champ, and make people see my side of things easily, but when it comes to exposing a point through dialogue I don’t know where to begin. It bugs me because eventually I’d like to write something meaningful. I have several ideas for potentially interesting plots, but I can’t seem to commit further than setting up the story.

I missed the Greenday concert because of my ass, which incidentally is more sore than usual. I have an uneasy feeling today that the doctor might have missed something with the last operation. I hope I am wrong. I can’t spend another 4 months of my life in a basement floor. I need to go out and do something now. I miss life so very much. I’m starting to hate my computer games. I am bored. I want to go back to the way things were before. I’ve been gimpy for 5 years over a stupid reason.

That’s it for now.