I've already passed the three month mark of this six month period I've arbitrarily given myself; unemployed. I have less than three months left ticking on the clock, or at least that is my mindset, before I have to decide exactly how I'm going to avoid spending another Winter in the Bay Area.

It's different this time. It makes sense this time. I don't need to do anything anymore. I've proven I could hold a job and support myself. And now? I don't want another job, certainly not another office job, similar but different desk, similar but different computer, similar but different copy machines, similar but different office supplies, similar but different office people. Why? Do I want to be one of those clockwatchers? Do I want to be one of those people who just floats through life? I can't do that. I don't know why.

But it's not like there's something else I want to do, that I'm ambitious about, that I care about. So I'm more like one of those people who try to break out of the normative matrix of life, only to find nothing there.

But that's only one way to look at it, one way people might look at me. The truth is that there always has been nothing there, and that's what I've been striving for all these years, to get to that realization.

I remember reading the book The Outsiders when I was a kid, and I was blown away by the way S.E. Hinton ended the book the same way the book started. Then one of the seminal of books of my life was Illusions by Richard Bach, and that book also used that same storytelling technique, wrapping the end with the beginning in a nice narrative circle.

I feel that I've been floating and skipping over pages turning in my life and I'm going to find that the last words of the story are the same as the first words.

My conclusion was stated on the first page, but it took going through the entire story to reach the same conclusion again on the last page, but with a deeper understanding of it, having gone through the story. It all finally makes sense.

Personally, I wish I had gotten here of my own accord, according to my own decisions and realizations, and not by the turns of fate dealt out to me. I'm not in bands because no one has wanted me since Fiction. I'm not in a relationship because anyone I've been interested hasn't reciprocated. And anyone who showed interest in me were complete idiots. OK, they weren't complete idiots, that's harsh. They were complete idiots to me. OK, they weren't even that, nobody has shown interest in me.

My life has been drained, all the important elements deserted, and even though it's what I've wanted, it hasn't been my doing. I wasn't the agent of my doing, I was just the vessel.

And worst of all about babbling on about all this:

I'm fucking sober!!