pg3: Is he alive? Can he still feel?

I don't know, man. I just don't know.

I guess I ought to begin by saying this: after some consideration, and only a small amount of prodding by my peers, I ended up signing up for the National Novel Writing Month. It's been a long time since I've written anything substantial, and this is a good way to let it out. I signed up late, however, so I'm gonna have to play a few days worth of catch-up. It's working, though: I slept last night more soundly than I have in months, after a few hours of writing. It feels really good.

As a result, however, this blog may suffer. I think I may have been writing in this so heavily because I didn't have anything better to write. I don't see that being such a huge deal, however, since nothing interesting looks to be happening soon. Except depression.

I don't know what it is, man. For autumn, the weather has been gorgeous. The definition of balmy. Still, I have been sort of in a foul mood since Thursday morning. Mitrovica was going on about some stuff and I just had one of those "I don't want to be here" moments. Those moments when it occurs to me that this course is supposed to be about becoming a journalist, and as he described it, I wanted nothing less at the moment. Maybe that's why I signed on for NaNoWriMo, it's all interwoven. Still, it may be important to go through the cycle of emotions, and find really important things to be frustrated about. If it's not this, then maybe it'd have to be the whole raging teen hormone thing.

Here's a weird story. It happened a few weeks ago, I think the thursday before thanksgiving: our computers have these Chat programs that are meant to keep us all connected. I would log in during class and what inevitably would end up happening is that I would start conversing with someone else online. There's this girl in my class who'll usually say "hello" when I come on. I've sort of orbited around her group of friends since the year began, making minute conversation, so to them, I appear approachable. Anyway, the small talk made its way toward the thanksgiving weekend, going back home, etc etc. I mentioned I was actually from Oakville and that I'd be seeing all my friends, who were coming home. (Come to think about it, this may have been just recently at the reading week - hard to tell.) And she says something along the lines of, "oh all your friends/gf moved away?"

Now, I'm not stupid. I know why that question was phrased that way; at least, I have a pretty valid-sounding theory. She wanted me to admit to not having a girlfriend. And to say it like that, it sounds exciting, right? Well, what did I do? I said, "oh they all moved off... some to Hamilton, some to Kingston, Toronto, etc..." see, I did not specifically state whether or not there was a special lady in my life. Am I trying to make her think I do? No. I'm just deliberately using very vague terms to get her off the topic; because I figure she's looking for me to say "no" so she can pursue that line of thought. And why do I perpetuate this misconception? Because I don't like her? No, that's a harsh assessment. Can I say we wouldn't go well together? I will. I can tell. No names, because this blog is notoriously easy to find and someone from school could be reading this, but she'd know it was her if she did.

As I said: I dunno, man. It's a weird theory that may amount to no more than a delusion of grandeur on my part. It's just a weird psychosis of mine that I can't get attracted to someone who was attracted to me first. Either that or those girls always just happen to be girls I'm not into - hey, it's not as though I'm into every girl I meet (although........... ahem. Never mind.)

I just suddenly remembered the conversation I had with Ana a week ago (GAWD this has been a swift week,) where she said something about not having been messed up until she met me. Sure, I'll believe that, with a nod and a wink.

It's nights like these I lament the fact that I'm fundamentally alone. I'm not toally depressed, but I sure am reflective. Rachel's halfway to Florida by now, Chris, Cary and others are in Hamilton, Ryan's in Waterloo, Anisah's in Kingston (the first time I've felt comfortable typing her name out in months, oddly enough. I think that shows something.) Alyssa and Doug are in Toronto. And all people left in Oakville have made no attempt at contacting me. Not that that bothers me particularly, but come on, I'm here. I've made better friends with Lauren Wing than I ever expected to.

Everyone's gone, and I am here, alone.

Oh, what a life.

Thanks for stopping by.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto