There is nothing that focuses my mind upon my solitary state than leaving home and driving down the empty Interstate just before midnight.

Call it a sickness, perhaps. An idee fixee.

But I kind of wonder if that's really the problem. Living in this society, I have been brainwashed into thinking that loneliness is a pathological state.

But it isn't.

By logic and reason, I know this is true. But I still can't help but squirm in frustration and impatience.

What will be will be.

A lot of people think that I am giving up with regards to the whole "asking someone out on a date" thing. I've been hitting this emotional brick wall for a long time now, and I think it's just time to hang back and regroup. Get my priorities in order.

I have yet to figure out exactly what it is I want from life, for one thing.

But, yeah. I just can't do this right now, and perhaps not ever, but there certainly isn't anything productive about me beating myself up for being a pathetic chickenshit. This is where I'm at, and I just need to accept it.

Sometimes you stare and stare into the pool from the high dive, knowing that all you have to do is fling yourself into the air, and you know that you'll probably be OK, but you just stand there, staring and staring, and now everybody below is yelling at you because you're holding up the line, and the pressure mounts.

It is easy to tell someone to just jump.

But sometimes, when you can't handle it, even though you look like a big loser in front of everyone, you just have to climb down, shake it off, and do something else.

This isn't the same thing as just saying "Fuck it" or "I don't care." This is accepting the fact that I cannot do this right now, and while I will obsess constantly about it, probably until my dying day, there is just nothing to be done at this moment.

There's really no point of even hoping, because as long as I can't get over this wall, nothing will ever happen, and I'm the kind of person who freaks out even more when I have people behind me yelling for me to get on with it.

So that's where it stands.

I will probably complain about loneliness again sometime soon, probably quite frequently. It's just an unpleasant feeling. And maybe I'll never get used to it. But I know that there's nothing to be done but for me to get over my ridiculousness, and just go for it. And until this happens, nothing else will.

Advice isn't what I need right now. Because, in all honestly, I know precisely what I need to do. I just don't have the will to do it. And that may be the case for the rest of my life.

I did eventually snap out of my depressing reverie. And right now, I can't see what's wrong. This is how it's been for a long time, and this how it's going to be until I change, and I haven't run into anything yet that has the power to force me to change.

I'm like one of those pandas who won't screw to save the species.

There's simply nothing realistic left to do but wait and see.