I'm back.

At this very moment, my nose is stuffed up, my mind feels cloudy, and every part of my body aches. I have a flu, or some other sickness, who knows.

In spite of all this, I'm very satisfied. I'm happy. At this moment in time.

Why? I have a resolve. A new commitment to myself. I'm ready to pursue happiness once again. Our forefathers weren't joking about that shit. We have the right to the "pursuit of happiness". I sound like an inane motivational speaker, I know. But I just came to this realization just now.

Mr. J, you've come to the intense self cognizance that you desire to be alive, upbeat, convivial, all of the above! What are you going to do now?

The answer to that is, I'm going to move. LA, NY, UK. I've got to make a choice. Leaning towards NY or UK. LA is like a back-up. But who uses their back up anyway? Unless something terribly wonderful/horrible happens, I don't see myself moving to a place that requires me to own an automobile.

So now I must think. Think think think. Hmm, well World, I'll get back to you.

P.S. The photo included with this post has no particular significance other than it is awesome.

Hm, that's funny...

Take a look at the post prior to this one.

Yes, if you have now finished reading it, or have read it before (doubtful), you'll be interested to know that a few weeks after that post was created, I was right back with the lady I had based the entry on. Yes, as my blog title suggests, I am predictable. That is, if you know me.

It wasn't until about 3-ish months ago that we had completely separated (for good), pretty much one year after the previous post was created! Funny how life unfurls, eh? Well, I can now say with conclusiveness that I have truly reached that state of singularity, and will not achieve the status of relationshiphood (not a word) for awhile.

Two and half years is the longest time I've spent with any one woman. I'm still young, I guess. I used to want to be older, but now I feel the tinges of "am I getting old?" Don't worry, they're just hints, small blips on my radar. Nothing worth worrying too much about. Now I just want to stop aging, I need time to think! I need to process the world that surrounds me before everything in the present slips away and becomes the future's present.

Back to that woman. I was so angry (internally), and upset, depressed. I walked through my own life as though in someone else's body, smiling outwardly to colleagues, friends, etc. Shrugged it all off. But nope, my stomach was a cesspool of the most rank excrement. Something along the lines of....well, when dogs vomit they end up licking it up again, and then of course they shit it out eventually. That very same dung was filling my stomach once the thought of her crossed my mind. She had (good for her) found someone else. I still feel the residual sickness plague my stomach lining, tighten the muscles in my throat, and trigger my gag reflex.

That last post (yeah the one I keep referencing) was a hollow attempt to maintain the cool. I think I did a pretty good job. But truly, it was a load. At that time I felt similarly, not intensely so, but yeah. Same.

My very position in life right now, I don't know what part is worse. The fact that I've been living at home for a year and still haven't moved out (suck at saving), that I haven't touched a woman for 4 (now 5?) months, that I haven't moved to my hopeful location of existence, or that I'm still using Blogger when everyone knows that WordPress is sooo much cooler.

I'm here, calling myself out. Why? Will I do anything about it?

P.S. To those whom I dated, and we fizzled before too much could really happen: It would be great if you reappeared in my life right about now. Am I thinking selfish/misogynist thoughts out loud? Who am I kidding, no one reads this blog anyway.

OH, one last thing, pictured is my new girlfriend. She's not your ordinary girl, she rides an undead steed, carries around an axe and brings forth an unholy blight when I forget our anniversary. Also, she isn't real.

Conscious State Re-entry

So I'm back to that comfortable, sometimes lonesome, though self-gratifying status of singularity in my life. Semantics aside, I am now at this moment living wholly and entirely for myself (well, kind of). I don't think that's a terrible place to be, especially after living for over a year with my life's emphasis on another. In a certain manner, it feels good to be selfish again.

I sit here in the school café, with my thoughts, and a decent amount of time with which to organize them, surrounded by a very positive vibe. I was talking to some very close friends last night over dinner, and I remembered saying to one that it was the Ancient Greeks who believed that among the wealthiest of their people were those who had the leisure to spend their time thinking. I really like this idea, and I remember it whenever I have too much free time, though most often when I become single. It helps me think positively on what has occurred, and what learning experiences I can hatch-mark on my wall of life lessons.

That being said. This time feels somehow different from the norm. I'm not quite wallowing in self-pity like in the past, in fact, I feel very rational about the whole thing. Perhaps being in Japan, "alone", for four months had something to do with this, but it all seems very matter-of-fact. Yes. Well, not to change the subject but, lately I've noticed how completely my mood changes based on the amount/lack of food that I've taken in. It's really amazing how drastically I can fluctuate without a filled gullet. Luckily I've noticed this, with the help of my first-rate shrink (aka Andy), and now get to the root of this issue before it even begins. Yay.

On a completely different tangent, I mentioned Andy here. This is rare, because I hardly recognize anyone by name in my entries. I'm very aware that this blog is open to prying eyes, and I prefer to protect everyone's anonymity. In this case, I couldn't think of something that wasn't completely pretentious to replace his name, so I figured his name would have to do. Plus, he's a very open person most of the time, so mentioning his first name to those of the public who will have no clue as to who I'm talking about regardless. Those privileged few who do, well, they would know who I'm talking about whether I mentioned his name or didn't. This whole paragraph is pointless. But that's okay.

Okay enough writing for now, I need to go feed my mood.

Purgatory

It's that waiting place in-between life and death. It's time you spend as a ghost, attending to your unfinished business. To put it simply, its boring, and somewhat painful, especially when you're conscious of the fact that something spectacular is on the horizon.

This is the state that I stand at this moment, or to be more literal, sit, as I've been sitting in this chair for a few hours now. I'm days away from a trip to a foreign country, Japan specifically, and I'm itching to get this "direful condition" over and done with.

I've made all due preparations, only packing remains, something that I purposely procrastinate on, due to my belief that my mind is in its prime state when under pressure.

When will this purification end? When do I achieve the holiness to enter the light of the sun's rays?

Four-letter Word.

Fuck being up at 3:30 am. Fuck the events that occur in the morning. Fuck insomnia. Fuck stress. Fuck worry. Fuck planning. Fuck socializing. Fuck late night television. Fuck the commercials in-between. Give me sleep or give me death.

Let's just get this shit over with. Shall we?