J: Let's be natural.

God forbid we should ever lose our sense of humour.

I guess anybody reading this blog should be able to sense what kind of sense of humour I have. And I should hope that I can maintain it through any adversary. I mean, even earlier this week when I did my mondo-depressed shtick (which I seem to have passed on, a fact for which I am deeply remorseful,) re-reading the post the subtle self-satire still tends to crop up. And I hope I never lose that. I may not always feel funny, but I don't think I'll ever be able to stop.

That said, I'm prepared to get extremely philosophical. Let it be known that I am at least listening to the Rutles to balance myself. I'm in a good mood, but I've been having those fershlugginer deep thoughts.

I'm just worried. I feel kinda helpless. Like I can neither help nor be helped. I can't help because no matter what I try to do, damnit, I always end up failing and things get bad anyway. And I then feel responsible for people who are upset, although I shouldn't. And I feel I can't be helped, because I'm on a path of self-destruction that is irresistable. I'm paranoid and, I hope, hypochondriac (the alternative unsettles me too much to contemplate.) I can't banish the thought that this feeling is not a feeling, but a symptom. Because I'm fuckin' paranoid about shit like health. I need to see a doctor, I should hae months ago, and why I haven't spoken to mom about it is baffling. And I can't even really say what's on my mind because it's seemingly too insane to really focus on, and yet... thoughts of an idle mind.

I just don't think I'm racking up a lot of great karma lately. I try to be good, and I feel I am appreciated, but I want other people to know they are appreciated. There are meaningless inconsequential events that are accidental but take on the weight of severe acts of war. But the truth of such a matter is often lost to time and perspective (rather, lack thereof.) We have needlessly hurt feelings that cannot easily be undone. And by this I mean we do not easily part with these feelings: it's so easy and frankly a little gratifying to be upset, depressed, full of rage. It's an easy emotion to give in to, but that's not the way to go. I believe it only takes a mere gesture to forget such feelings, and I intend to find that gesture.

I'll tell ya man, even though I ought to be a busy cat, my mind is so idle right now. I've been having all these worthless thoughts, either too paranoid or sentimental.

I think I'd like to go back to being friends, if it's possible. I'm back and forth on this issue, but it seems pretty clear that it didn't work... I don't know, maybe the timing was off (it's certainly not the most opportune when she moves away and you never see her again.) The one thing I'm not doing is being all "blahhhh why why why?" because let's face it, someone of my experience ought to know better, and I do. As I told Vanessa, I have my regrets on the situation, but am more than prepared to let go (if she is.) Just another chapter in the ever-expanding encylopedia of related stories, y'know?

But I'd really rather be friends because, well, goddamn did we relate well. There are only a few people conversations with whom I relish. Before any of this insanity started, I could always count on her to provide an excellent dialogue. I wish I'd seen her this weekend, but things did not jive. Maybe I would've had a better time at Conorton's if I had. I didn't really say it at the time, but I was still rather depressed at Conorton's, because so few of the people there were my people. In that scenario, I fade into the background and become worthless, loaded with self-loathing. And I know it ain't cool to be that way, but what can I help? So was it the super-fun magical time I sorta said it was? Nah. It was a mixed blessing.

I had a thought about women for this paragraph. I lost it.

And none of this post makes any sense, I'm sure, but I don't care at this point.

A pretty good family gathering. A regular Thanksgiving event, nothing to write home about. Fuckin' Wally was there, though. Not that I dislike the guy. I just think it's remarkable that after showing up for two family events, mom still hasn't owned up to their relationship. I'm still not inclined to respect him. A few notches above Frank, however. Several.

Bleah, I'm all philosophical lately. If you need anything, just ask. I'm trying to improve my karma, I feel it is ill.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto