Dropped my guests off in Pennsylvania today. I'm back home now, and the place is so empty and quiet, it's kinda sad. Alone again. Naturally.

I love my life. Except for the loneliness. I am so tired of being alone. So sick and friggin' tired. I know I could just go out and find some girl to keep me company: that would be easy. Hell, I've got a few volunteers waiting. But I know too well from experience that being with someone doesn't necessarily keep you from being alone: the wrong person can make you lonelier than you are by yourself.

Lots of Mennonites between here and Harrisburg. In fact, the place where I dropped my friends off for their next stop is a big Anabaptist convention. I get a lot of Mennonite girls making eyes at me. Must be the beard and the plaid shirt. :) Couldn't marry one, though. Unfortunate, because I actually find them very attractive: modesty is sexy. But a) although certain aspects of simplicity appeal to me greatly, I can't adopt their eschewal of the good things in life. And b) I can never, never be a pacifist. If somebody is trying to hurt my wife and kids, I'm going to kill him. Period.

Ran into people from church again the other day. They said they're going to keep on trying to invite me to things, hoping some day I'll change my mind. I love them a lot for trying. But it really doesn't make it any easier on me, chiefly because I am so tempted to take them up on it, especially in these empty moments. But I know it would only make it worse, in the end.

What I really need is for someone to buy my house, so I can get the hell out of here. Well, that's not exactly accurate. What I really need is some kind of love in my life.

Oh, and I bought new pants the other day. Waist size 40. The ones I wore when I moved to Virginia were 52, and the ones I wore when I was eighteen were 36.

Now I'm thinking about the origin of the phrase, "train of thought".