There is not much to say. Then again, I usually lack much to say but have the ability to draw it out to make the entries in this journal long. At least, I believe that is the case.

Anyway, the week is again a blur. I never have quite “recovered” from my withdrawal back during Halloween weekend, but it is nothing serious. I am merely… out of commission I suppose.

After I read the mentioned book from my previous entry, I did little else the rest of the week. I read, I typed up small scenes, I cleaned and I drew. I do not even quite remember what I read nor what I drew even. I suppose I will look- Ah. I drew Night and then a picture of a very skeletal man. I worked on a cat the remainder – I suppose I am still working on it but not by much – that is not going as planned due to my pen being a cruel fiendish foe.

By the end of the week, my mother was far too tired to go to the store on Friday and I very well was fine with that. I had been and still am suffering from back problems. I have been staying in bed a ridiculous amount once more due to them. Even then, I had moments that were terrible. I thought my spine and back ribs would disintegrate from it all.

Well, we went to eat that night at the Lake House. I found I rarely talked and was not quite there. I think I am becoming less aware of the world around me in a sense. I do not mind really. It is funny in truth. I recollect the moments I would undergo a depression I would often think life was too monotonous and living would seem trivial to me. I saw no point. I worked like a clock, a robot, a machine, et cetera…

Now I do not feel that way. Perhaps it is because I am now in a fog. Perhaps it is due to my medicine. Perhaps it is from no longer having stress in bountiful amounts. Either way, I have become quite content with my life. For once… I believe I feel human again. It is silly, considering I rarely interact and the like, but still… I suppose it is the solitude.

There is nothing to compare myself to really. I am not in situations where I have to be around people. I do not really converse with them much anymore, not even on the computer. There no longer is an awkwardness or feeling of inadequacy due to not belonging or connecting. I do not have to worry about trying to understand things like what is going on in media. I do not necessarily become “silent” anymore. I merely have no reason to force myself to speak.

I like it. There is no strain or awkwardness. In chat, I rather often had little to say. I knew little of music, movies and absolutely nothing about video games. It was like watching an alien world and merely try to comprehend.

The things that interest me are not exactly conversational. I read, but what I read are not books. Even if they were books, I would have nothing to discuss about them to another. I draw, but I am not of artistic knowledge. I would no analyze a work and try to find the “deeper meaning”. I would have nothing to say about anything I created either in truth. I sometimes record myself singing. I likely will not let others hear the recordings, and even if I did, we would have little to say. The music I listen to is just that. I like it; I listen to it. I do not know genres; I do not know deeper meanings to lyrics half the time. I would happily write about such things when in the mood, but I really am not the type to “discuss” about them.

I write, but I would not show it to another. When I do, I will talk about it. I have noticed this with the girls. I know they like my characters and I can talk freely about ideas in regards to them. It becomes monotonous though. In fact, I mainly converse with them about such topic. We spout ideas, I go into depth, and I show them things I write. Other than that, we lack in conversation for the most part. We do not seem to mind that, but we do not have much to talk about, thus enjoy knowing the other is around. I like that.

Saturday we went to the store. I ached, was tired, felt nausea and eventually had a mild headache. Quite simply, someone loves me. The rest of the weekend was also a blur. I believe it was Sunday did we go to eat at IHOP. That was nice.

It might have been on Saturday or Sunday but I was bedridden beyond repair. My back was going to be the end of me, I thought. I tried laying on it. It only hurt. I tried lying on my stomach, it was excruciating. I tried lying on my side, it was not as bad, but still obviously painful. I curled, and it was then it was tolerable.

Last night we had pizza, but I did not seem to care for it as much as I usually would. I guess I just was not in the mood. In fact, I lack the mood to eat. Previous week, I had been ravenous. This time around, I do not care for food at all. I only eat regularly because it pleases my mother. She gets onto me about my weight, which is silly I think. Until I am down to 105, I see no reason to worry. I am over that by slightly more than ten pounds, and I cannot say I am relatively fond of that, but I allow it.

All that is left to say is that I received word from Neko. Their Internet has been cruel to them once more, hence their absence. I figured as much. I have happily become accustomed to their bouts of absences to the point that I no longer worry. It has become something natural. Relationships over the net can be a scary thing. As Kyle had mentioned before, when someone is absent over a long period without warning and you have no other way to contact him or her, you have so many possibilities as to why he or she is gone. Thinking of terrible occurrences come to mind naturally. I have become to used to such scenarios. Therefore, I simply wait until they make contact.

~ Au revoir…