2003-02-16 - 8:20 a.m.

Noticed a new spot on my face this morning.

"There's a little black spot on the sun today..."

I picked at it a bit. I don't think it's going away.

I don't look well. I don't feel well.

I realize I'm getting older, and that I'm not old yet. In fact, I'm barely not young anymore. I'm pretty sure that's not it. I think it's a continued hollowness to my existence that's draining me.

But would closure with Michelle really help? Do I need to talk to her? I know I'm depressed, not because I'm depressed but because of all the circumstantial evidence. I don't mope, I don't cry (much) and I do often have quite a bit of energy. But the life just isn't there.

On one hand, I know I need to be self-sufficient. I need to be able to stand on my own and be capable of dealing with anything that might come. In fact, I do already feel that way. But that isn't enough. I also know that I need to be needed in that special way. I know that I need to be part of a new family, my own family. I had that and now it's missing, and missing badly.

"Home". Hah. How fitting. This song reminds me right away of endless Saskatchewan miles rolling by the windshield. Of.. too much.

I remember I scoffed the word when Mike said I would have to find my way there. I knew at some level it didn't exist anymore, even though no part of my being expected Michelle to be gone when I arrived. Somehow, I knew; without knowing or accepting, maybe.

See? I didn't cry. Is that good? Am I more of a man now, or less of a child? Am I feeling better or worse? Did I expunge any bad feelings, or just bring them back into focus?

That's the thing with life... we're all doing it for the first time, so no one really knows. That's the point of this journal, I suppose, and all my recordings for that matter. The point is to look back after and get some sense of what went on, some understanding of events. Some conclusion.

Hey, there's a word I hadn't considered before in my artificial consciousness brainstorms: conclusion. That's what you come to when you decipher some data, or what events come to when the action is done. It's a static thing, after the fact. Very necessary. The building blocks for more living, or at least pitiful attempts at such.

Hey, I just realized something. I don't have a life. When I lost my home, I lost my life, too. I know/knew that at some level, and I'm pretty sure I've even mentioned it since, but I haven't said it in so many words, such that I really knew it myself. I'm not really living right now.. this is a proxy existence, a purgatory-style waiting period.

I can't afford to lose myself. That means I need to stand fast by my decisions of the past, those made in my moments of greatest clarity and self-need, when I stood most firmly rooted in who I wanted to be.

:)

I can't help but be happy. I've found myself doing exactly what I wished of myself: writing a diary entry. I'm expressing myself as well as I know how, and through the practice learning how to express myself, and getting better at expressing myself, and through the action, growing through my own self-expression.

I guess I love saying the same thing in several different ways because, really, it isn't the same thing, and those subtle differences are important.

Hmm. Weird morning.

Oh, I know what else to say. I thought of another item for "the list".

-uses correct punctuation in instant messages :)

Time for me to get on with my day. This is the first really good day in a while. It's 8:15, I've written my entry and had a glass of orange juice. Life, what remains of it, will be (and is.. gosh I'm not that depressed) good.

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