1557 Noe St., San Francisco

At the center of my existence is anger. It's something I haven't really touched or dealt with in a while. It's not denial, I just haven't had the need to. And more importantly, dealing with it probably would have been a really bad idea. Not dealing with it was a safety mechanism. If I grappled with it, I would probably have killed myself. I don't think I'm suppressing or repressing anything in any extreme, unhealthy way. It's always there and it's getting expressed some way or another, but I just can't grab it with both hands and deal with it because that would be too overwhelming.

But it's certainly not benign, and it certainly is keeping me from...I don't know what. Something. It's a great unknown. I don't know what to do with it. For now it's alright to acknowledge it and that it is having an adverse effect on my living my life.

1557 Noe St., San Francisco

Not a single person I know speaks the same language that I do. Words come out of my mouth and people hear them, but they don't understand the words the way I mean them. When more than one person hears the words that come out of my mouth, they hear them in different ways, all with different meanings. None of them quite the same as I understand the words.

It has been years since anyone has understood my words in the same way as I understand and meant them. Madoka is probably the last person who did, and she doesn't anymore. We've grown apart and I don't consider her one of my closest friends anymore. Shiho is the last person I was in a relationship with who did, and that was five years ago. And it wasn't much of a relationship.

Am I still looking for someone who speaks the same language as me? I feel like I wish I could find someone who does, so in that way yes, but if I'm trying to maintain this period of my life as the twilight of it and hope to die within the next few years, in that way no.

1557 Noe St., San Francisco

This nagging feeling that I have to assess my entire life every time I start writing in here...that's what ordinary life is. Life merrily rolls along. Nothing is happening, nothing indicating that I should be doing something, that I am doing something, or should be here at all. Insignificant day moves into insignificant day. It's not life to me. I work now, I'm self-sufficient, I have no goals, no where my life is headed, and no desire for such direction.

It's ordinary life, and ordinary life is about assessing it's value at every moment or so. Ordinary life is about filling empty spaces. Deciding what to do next, wondering what is going on now and where this is headed, when all the while just floating through it and letting time take us through each day like a leaf on a stream.

After all this time, I finally realized when to end my life. It will be spontaneous. If there is any planning involved, it's not the end of my life. My life will end when I can let everything fall away and there are no thoughts of planning or circumstances or results. It will just happen with no fanfare, no drama, just as fact, simple as breathing, and I think that's as much enlightenment or clarity as I'll get in this lifetime. My life will end when I reach that moment and let go and go through with it. My life will end when I am free of attachments.

Truth to tell, ordinary life is really, really boring.

1557 Noe St., San Francisco

My time in Fiction may be coming to an end. It's fading and frustrations are growing. I'm not invested in the band enough to stick with it when things start going south. If I leave the band at this point, I leave nothing and I take nothing. I haven't contributed anything substantive or material to the entity of Fiction.

Fiction is their band, not mine. The expression is all theirs, I contribute bass lines. I don't mind that role, but then they'd better do their part and produce something. I've been in the band longer without a drummer than I've been in it with a drummer. That story is so tired.

I think we're entering the stage where we have a final flare up of creativity and positive feeling before it all falls apart. We've been going into rehearsals kinda down and tense and then we'd have a terrific jam. I think it's just foreshadowing a breaking point, the oft told story. The jams are feel-good salves, they aren't curing any of the problems. They raise hope and when hopes can't be reached, everything will fall apart.