This is a soliloquoy. A DAmn shame as well. My membership expires in five days and I am forced to ask myself what I've done with the last year.

Well, just over a year ago I got convincted of drunk driving. That led to a 13 month sobriety that I never want to repeat again.

Not that I'm back to being a drunk, not yet at least. I just hate being told what to do.

Went to the Philippines. Made me realize how much I miss big city living. Also made me realize how easy it is to fall in love with a whole culture.

It didn't hurt that there were so many hot chicks there. I'm contemplating putting up a few pictures. What I really want to do is write.

Since I started writing, circa 2006, when my marriage was falling apart, it's been a release, a reprieve, it's like knowing that I will be executed tomorrow, but I still have tonight.

I've had many "tonight"s since then. I wallowed most of them away. I've moved once, now I own a computer, since the last one I had crashed when I threw it at my room mate... Wierd how things don't work after they are thrown.

It's been a long time, and I just can't find my muse. I want to write humor. This deep, dark, collections I have been known for are too easy to write. Fucking first person monologues with varying plots, but the same thesis. I ran out of things to say. "X is mean" "Life sucks" "Everythings a waste". Sure, it sounds deep, but so does the ocean. Anyone who's on the beach will never know if it's true or not.

I want to know truth. I want to demand it. I want, I really want, to be stronger today than yesterday, to halt my emotions when they go down that path (you know the one I'm talking about).

It's my first Friday back in the states, and yes, I'm typing because I have nothing better to do.

Let me say that again, Friday night, typing, because I have nothing better to do.

I've not left the house except for lunch and cigarettes since Wednesday morning.

I feel pathetic. For many reasons. Some of which are known to me, others I'm just trying to understand now.

So I'm depressed, looking for something to do. Someone to call. Someone to help me out of my funk.

I'm counting on people for my emotional well-being. Scary and unhealthy. I should just go to the pool hall by myself, but that sounds so pathetic to me. I want a bottle to shame myself further.

As if that's ever helped. Forgetting reality doesn't change it.

I paid my last portion of the DWI ticket today. That should make me happy. So many things to be happy and grateful for, and all I can think is that I'm bored.

Pathetic keeps coming to mind.

Really pathetic.

Horribly pathetic.

In other news, my sister's having a baby. Her third. Her husband's getting a vasectomy. His first. Both of which are great news.

I keep wanting somebody to save me, but I'm reminded of that ZAO album "Liberate te ex Inferis".

Look it up if you want to know what it means. I'm too lazy to even justify myself today. It's a good thing I gave my bottle away.

I want it, to forget, to remember. I want joy. Ever notice that chasing joy never brings it?

I am entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Pursuing I am, but since there's no end, it's more like a death march.

smokes, sex, alcohol, work. My addictions are endless.

As are my opportunities.