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 There are things I want to say.I'm done with my dating phase, which lasted a brief month and a half.Most of it, I'm guessing, was spurred on by that phenomenon called"the rebound". But there was some genuine interest and excitement inthe opposite sex. At one point, I said to a friend that life was, at it'score, terribly dull and monotonous, and the only relief from such anunbearable existence came from the charms of a woman and hermysterious ability to distract us men.While this may be true, I have no desire to entertain the notion anylonger. I've enjoyed the time I've spent with women, but I'm preparedto not have to rely on their attention to keep me fully engaged in life. You can read from my last post that I seemed to have fallen into a stateof dissolution. This state threw my father and my ex-girlfriend into apanic about my welfare. Was I using drugs again? Was I drinking?I candidly told my father on the phone that he had to let me make myown mistakes. "I'm turning thirty years old in July, Dad. Don't you thinkit's time to let go." But my father worries, like all fathers, and plus, hehas seen me through a serious drug addiction. That was ten years ago. So, not to get off the subject, but I had falleninto a state of dissolution--not unlike that of a depressed person whosleeps for two weeks straight, or an over-eater who binges on icecream and Twizzlers every night before bed.I flirted with toxins. I drank cocktails at night, and smoked cigarettes.Nothing more, nothing less. It may not be the healthiest thing in theworld, but it sure ain't a crime.Now, as I was saying, I don't want to date anymore and I also don'twant to go out of the house unless I absolutely have to. The truth of the matter is I can't bring myself to seeing anyone right now.For about four months, I've had a certain routine. I wake up (atwhatever time of the day) and I drive to a local Borders to have mycoffee and read the newspaper. I read the Sunday New York Times andI read the sections all throughout the week, which generally breaksdown to about one section per day. After this ritual, I return home forbreakfast if I've not eaten yet and then I begin my work. I work as afreelance writer and Internet marketer for several companies andindividuals. I'm proud of my work. I love what I do. And frankly, it keepsmy life in check. Even during my dissolution, I got my work done. Inever drank while I was working.
 
After about four hours of work, I eat dinner and then return to Bordersfor an evening coffee and more New York Times. When I'm fullysatisfied with my reading, I go back home, where I work for anotherfour hours or so.So there you have it. That's my life in a nutshell. The dissolution andthe dating occurred on the side, either on the weekends or after mywork was done. The reason why I suddenly cannot go to Borders anymore may thenseem a mystery. This was my routine; nothing could tear me from it.Bars and women, I could survive without, but the New York Times,Borders, and a fresh cup of industrial strength coffee was my lifeline.I don't want to be seen in public now.If I must go out, such as to get groceries every week, then I will. But Ialready bought a bag of Breakfast Blend coffee beans from Starbuckswhich should last me approximately twelve days if I have exactly fourcups each day.If I tell you why I have this sudden urge to stay at home and not goout, you will undoubtedly think it is the silliest thing you've ever heard.And to be sure, it is. To anyone who has lived outside of my world, andto everyone else in this world who is not me, it is indeed the mostdeplorable, ridiculous, need I say, pathetic reason to not leave thehouse.A good portion of my history as a human being has been pathetic andso I'm not discovering anything new. Nevertheless, I will say that myinsecurities are not abnormal. I've just taken my insecurities to anotherlevel. Well, I only have one insecurity that really dominates my life andhas since I was sixteen.I will reveal my insecurity to you in a moment--the insecurity that isbaring me from leaving my own home. But first let me say that I'm notdepressed, I'm not angry at the world or myself. In fact, I feel a greatamount of self-possession and even contentment right now. I'm atpeace.It is almost as if I needed this poor excuse to escape from the worldand to be alone for awhile. And not even "alone". Alone suggests that Iwant people to leave me alone, which I do not. I welcome people to call
 
me and talk with me. If a friend wishes to stop by, I will not preventhim or her from coming in the door.But, as I said, I do not want to go out in public unless I absolutely haveto. And so, I will conduct all of my business from home, which I doanyways. But I'll also confine myself to my home, which means nocoffee runs, no late night drinking at the bars, no meeting friends fordinner.Whether I should try to give up smoking during this interim is a goodquestion. I might want to take advantage of that. Because it's one lessplace I would have to travel outside of the house--to pick up cigarettes.It gives me great satisfaction to think that I can do everything I need todo from my home. An incredible self-sufficiency. If I need to shop forgroceries, I'll do so at a later hour, when not many people are crowdingthe aisles, and at least the ones who are in the aisles look scarier than Ido.Like I said, I'm content, marvelously content, even exuberant at timesbeing here in my house. By not rushing out the door for every littlething, I will have the opportunity to read in abundance. In addition, Iwill write. I've already gone back to my novel, Lethe in Spain, andexpanded the second chapter.I'm starting to think about theSpain novelagain because the illustratorGerar Gonzalez is swiftly moving through my second novel, Lethe inVegas, and he will soon be taking up the pages of "Spain" to translatethem into graphic form.But beyond that, I'm experiencing a transformation in my poetry. Thepoems tumble out of me every couple nights and I have a renewedinterested in the literary arts webzine I edit called,Escape into Life.None of these items should distract you from my original purpose of writing this blog post, which is, to illustrate the state of consciousnessI'm currently absorbed in.I truly look forward to being banished from the public eye, albeit a formof self-banishment but banishment nonetheless. And where I wouldtypically have been bored to my eyeballs by the prospect of notleaving the house; instead, I'm giddy and consumed with my ownfantasies. Of course, this might also have something to do with the
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