Warning: the following is a diatribe containing introspection, self-pity, and a general woe-is-me attitude. I hate it when I write these things. I'd delete it, but I'm just not into censoring myself.

I have the beginnings of what appears to be the flu. I spent the day driving around for a couple of hours before I ended up back in bed, watching movies and reading my literature book. I don't have lit homework, I just like exposing myself to the stories and poetry. It makes me feel reasonably well-read.

I watched Stand by Me again. The problem with this movie is that it depresses me. It only reminds me that I have yet to have any kind of defining experience. My life has been a long stretch of nothingness. Day after day of an idle mind and daydreams that contrast sharply with a stark, boring reality.

I have never attended a funeral. I've known people who have died, but they were great-grandparents I never met, grandfathers I was too young to know, and boys who were friends of friends.

I have never won anything important; I'm a retired veteran of spelling bees (two years regional champion, two second-place State trophies). I was a one-trick has-been at thirteen.

I am far too shy for my own good. I have few close relationships with people. My father and I are intellectually close, but our familial relationship is strained. I wish he'd hug me once in awhile. I barely know my uber-career-centered mother. My brother and I don't associate for reasons unknown. My only close friends are Cal and Jessie. Cal is there for me when I'm happy, but she's nowhere to be found when I'm not. I have known her for eleven years and I never seen her cry. Jessie keeps secrets from me and doesn't really know who I am. I have never met an adult whom I could trust. I have never dated.

I am deathly afraid of change, ambition, and the future. I am terrified of failure. I am terrified of disappointing my father again. I'm afraid I'll never get away.

I guess what this all leads to is the drive that I took today. I drove east. For fifty miles. I drove across the border to Minnesota to see the wind farms. Ever since I was little, I've loved the long rows of windmills. I turned back when I reached Lake Benton. In the last two weekends, I have driven to nowhere twice. Last week I went west, this week I went east. When I do it, I desperately wish that I didn't have to come home.