I am living in Westdale in Hamilton, Ont., Canada right now and I am still adjusting to my new surroundings. I’ve been sleeping a lot, and that’ll return to normal soon enough. I think I’m going to begin to write a novel soon. The novel is my ticket out of a fairly insecure, totally random lifestyle that needs to settle down — badly.

The problem with writing a novel is that it’s hard to come up with an original idea. I know what kind of a book I want to produce — soft-core horror with major soap opera and social dynamics to it. I know what I like and what a lot of people like. There’s a shortage of pulp fiction in the marketplace, and the book I write will go a ways toward ameliorating that.

My mental state is fairly good, but a bit ragged on the edges. I’m still waiting for a full return to the “old me” that was brash and confident all the time. A little bit of doubt has crept into my worldview, you see. I am jousting in my mind, in a way, and this is sapping me of strength.

There’s a lot of pretty girls at the university where I’m hanging out, and I hope to begin introducing myself to a number of them shortly. For some reason, I feel blocked in doing this. In the past, I hit on girls without a problem. I didn’t do it very often (for good reason) but when I did, it went smoothly. Now, I’ve become rusty. Again, there’s the issue of self-doubts, which are very UNattractive to girls. Girls want a confident appearing guy in all respects.

One thing I know about females is they’re remarkably unforgiving. They expect perfection in their guys, even when they are radically imperfect themselves. But perhaps I’m being too harsh on them. I just know that they expect a lot.

I’m optimistic about my future, by and large. I have a lot of abilities and talents, and these are monetizable. In short, things are looking good.