You know that feeling you get
When you want something so bad
But you can't have it... not now, not ever.
It's just not meant to be...

I think nothing is meant to be for me.
In the movies, sometimes you can tell, that if the good guy
is beaten half way to death in some dark alley, a beautiful
woman would find him, take care of him, and they'll
evantually even fall in love...  
That's how I feel -  like I've been beaten half way to
death, and I'm waiting just outside the dark alley for that
women to come. But she's not coming now, is she?

The emptiness in death scares me more than the emptiness in
life. Life atleast got some scenery. I feel so hollow in
this world. No luck, good or bad. I'm not even playing, I'm
out of the loop. I'm an observant. A writer. I observe
things and then write about them. It doesn't even matter if
I've ever experienced these things or not. Not to a writer
anyway. Writers are like spies. They blend with the rest of
the people, but they never assimilate. They watch. That's
all they need. Sometimes thats even more than enough.
They're the big tourists of life. I try to see the world
from an overview point, and to do that I try to exclude
myself from the rest of society. Actually - it's fair to say
society is the one pushing me out.

Right now there are about one hundred ideas for stories in
my head. Some long, some short. Some I'm not even aware of.
But I can't write them. If I'd try, they'd be filled with
the "almost  right" words. The difference between the right
word to the almost right word is like the difference between
the lightning and the lightning-bug. Mark Twain. Reports of
his death are greatly exaggerated - his words live on, long
after his body turned to dust.

I'm not a lone wolf or a recluse. I would rather have some
company, than being alone, but not a lot of people "get" me.
No one gets me to be frank. Sometimes even I don't.

I feed from pain and sadness, mine or others. I'm worse than
a vampire. I suck human emotions and manipulate them into
words, into little knots that tie the moments in life.
That's the only way I can truly create. I dwell on sorrow so
much that I started to enjoy it. Sorrow can be a close and
loyal friend.

I have no control over this plot. There is no plot. Whenever
I try to write one I feel like a film noir detective trying
to find some clues to a case that doesn't exist. There is no
plot. There is no femme fatale. No villain. And as such - no
hero. I used to think I was a hero. I used to think that
this world is the movie of my life, and I'm the somewhat
crude and dark hero. I'm the most important person in this
film, everything revolves around me, without me there is no
film. But I'm no hero. And there is no film. There can be no
film without a plot. Without a plot there is nothing.  

I am nothing. I am less than nothing. I am less important
than the drops of winter rain on a wrinkled leaf. They are
part of the game, I'm out of the game. Out of the loop. I'm
an observant. A watcher. A spy. I'm the big tourist of life.
I blend in but I never assimilate. I'll probably be waiting
here all my life, outside the alley, beaten half way to
death, waiting for her to come. But she's not coming now, is
she?

You know that feeling you get?
When you want something so bad
But you just can't have it...
not now
not ever...