I haven't seen anyone I know for almost two weeks, and the interactions I then had rang hollow.

Valerie was in town and I met up with her. She's a great person and I loved her just as everyone at Oberlin did, but we were never that close. She was too good and too positive for me. Also, at Oberlin, she was like a mentor for the whole Asian American community, and that put her in that category of people I reject as being able to be close to me – adults, authority.

I tried talking to her as an equal this time, and our conversation got too deep and too serious way too fast. I thought it would be possible because she's gone through some serious shit since Oberlin, so I was hoping we could relate, but it didn't really work.

Sadie I'm finding, after a year, I don't know at all (which makes sense, knowing a person a year in your 30's means less than knowing a person a year when you're 21), and hanging out with Sadie means hanging out with Bob with Sadie watching the dynamic where anything deep or serious is uncomfortable and taboo. Neither of these I want.

Through this, resonating through all my past friendships, is a cultivated, manicured isolation. I'm wondering if the isolation has ever been what it has currently become.

For the past three and a half years I was working, before that I was in a band, before that I was in a relationship, before that I was in school; all built-in social interactions. All through it was isolation, but I can't recall when the isolation was so complete that it compounded into a dark and fragile day after day of not seeing anyone, with no prospect of social interaction anytime soon.

It's rich, it's warm, it's appropriate and I'll take it, but it makes tentative prospective social plans hard. I should be cutting everything off right now. I may be losing perspective, I may be spiraling, but . . . no, that's all.