I turn 29 today, and I’m giving myself the day off. Some people may not count this as an entry, but I do, and I will. All I’ve done this weekend is drink a lot, eat a lot of junk food, and play Batman. I even bought myself volume 1 of the Batman Animated Series TV show on iTunes. Batman Batman Batman. Happy birthday to me!

(Update: 08:58 PM) This has been the best weekend I’ve had in a long time, and it’s exactly because I allowed myself not to do my regularly scheduled tasks. I drank again and a lot. I ate shit, and I loved it. I didn’t write today, and I think everything will be better off from it.

I’m starting over. I’m wiping the slate clean and recreating my life. It’s time for me to realize how alone I am right now, and how freeing that is (except for my family, okay?). I can do whatever I want, and I can be who I know I can be. Everything happens for a reason, right? Then there’s a reason why my journey led me right here right now.

I needed to be uncaged. I needed to allow myself that to actually see the cage I locked myself inside of to finally feel how constricted a life that was. I’m not going to ruin my life; I’m better than that, and this journey has showed me that and proved that to me. I can be okay with not adhering so strictly to my overwhelming schedule and task list. Hell, it’s necessary that I do because I’d crack otherwise.

I turned 29 today. That means I have one year before my twenties end. I’m free to do whatever the hell I want. And that’s amazing.

This entry will be short. I’ve been playing Batman Arkham Asylum in Steam today, and I drank a full bottle of Pinot Noir without breaking a sweat. I just recently bought four cans of Cold Smoke, which is this really strong beer that I haven’t had since last summer. I bought some Hot Cheetos because I wanted something to snack on while I played and drank. I didn’t work out. I didn’t write my second set of 300 words for my novel. I didn’t do anything on my task list; hell, I deferred everything until Monday. This weekend is going to be simple and fun, and I’m going to be drinking for most of it.

I’ve come to the realization that I’m starting over in many areas of my life. It’s like I’m moving back to Montana all over again. I have this clean slate to work with now. Regardless of what has happened this past week and what will happen this weekend, I’m at my best right now. I’m in the best shape of my life. I’m writing my best stuff right now. I’m the most disciplined I’ve ever been in my life. I needed to let loose. I simply needed it. So I’m not going to write 500 words. I’m going to finish up this entry and get back to drinking, eating, and playing Batman. Because I feel like Batman right now.

So I don’t know if I’m going to make it to 500 words today. I will stop writing when I think I should stop. I bought another two bottles of wine today, and I’m a cup away from finishing the first bottle. I woke up really tired, but not as hungover as I thought I’d be. Wine is better than beer that way (and a bottle of wine isn’t that much alcohol). I really just gave up my no alcohol streak, didn’t I?

I turn 29 on Sunday. I think I’ve grown more bitter since moving to Montana. I’m not blaming Montana for that at all. I think it’s just me. I haven’t been the best person since moving here, I guess. I think that’s part of who I am. I’m not a good person, I think. I don’t think I’m emotionally stable for most people, whatever that means. I’m an extremely emotional person, and since most people can’t handle their own emotions, they don’t know what to do with a guy who knows how to express his. I don’t need anybody to carry any of my weight. I just need somebody to understand how capable I am of expressing myself and handling my own shit but unafraid to just listen.

I’m going to be alone this weekend, like I have been for most weekends since starting this blog and losing my friends. There have been some weekends where that wasn’t true, but those are more rare than regular, unfortunately. I don’t really “care,” in a sense. I just thought I’d write the truth as I see it now. The truth I want to change. Drinking has reminded me of all the times I used to not drink alone, and how much I miss those days now. There’s no one I can call to come over and have a drink with me. C’est la fucking vie.

I think I’m going to grow my beard out. I miss my beard. I think I’m just looking for a change. I’m going to spend this weekend to recharge, regroup, and redefine my life. The past eight months have been great, but I burned myself out. This past week has been a great evidence of that. I’m just pivoting. I’m hoping this weekend will be fun and relaxing and energizing, so when Monday rolls around, I’ll be able to get back into my usual grind with a fresh mind and body and maybe even some fresh ideas that I can use to tweak my days in a very positive way. For now, though, I’m going to relax. Good night, everybody.

I’m a few sips away from finishing a full bottle of Pinot Noir. I feel good. Woozy. Buzzed. I’m listening to Outkast’s Stankonia, and god dammit I love this album. It’s so good. I don’t know what I’m going to write about today. I don’t know anything right now, and that’s exactly what I wanted to feel when I bought that bottle of wine today. I’m actually wondering why I didn’t buy two bottles of wine and some unhealthy snacks. My dirty dishes are in the sink, and I’m not going to wash them tonight. That’s how out of it I am tonight! That’s how sad my life is right now.

I really miss drinking. I know why I stopped, but dammit, I missed it. I don’t think anything bad will happen now that I’m almost done drinking this bottle of wine because there’s no relationship I can hurt anymore. I don’t have any to hurt. So maybe it’s okay that I’m drinking again. I wonder how I’m going to feel tomorrow when I wake up. Will I be hungover? I’m wearing my Superman t-shirt because I wanted to feel like Superman tonight. I finished my fourth day of Insanity Max: 30 today, and I finished the second to last chapter in my novel today, too. One more chapter and I’m done. At the moment, I’m at 90,600 words and 450 pages. Incredible, no?

I’m going to take a week off from some of my non-essential habits. My essential ones will be writing 300 words in the morning, 300 words in the afternoon, working out, and writing my blog entry. Those are really my core habits. I can maybe cut away that second 300 day session, but since I’m so close to finishing my book, I decided to keep it. That means no transcribing A Farewell to Arms, no meditation, and no reading. I’m okay with that. I’m tired, and I want to sleep early tonight. It’s getting somewhat late, so it makes sense to go to sleep.

I need to recharge and have some fun. I’ve been watching these The Last of Us walkthrough videos on YouTube, and holy shit do I miss playing video games. I even considered buying a Playstation 4 and a new TV today, but I thought against it for now since I don’t want to spend that much money on anything yet. Maybe after fire season? I don’t know.

I think I’m doing more than I can realistically do. Writing a novel is more than enough, I think. Working out on top of that should be my limit. Anything more than that and I’m risking failure. Writing and working out — that sounds super reasonable. And when I’m not doing either? That’s when I just have some fun! Play video games, watch TV, and maybe start making new friends somewhere. The sky’s the limit, right?

Maybe this is all a dream. An alcohol-infused dream. I’ll probably forget I wrote this tomorrow. Ah well. Farewell, May 7th. I will never see you again. Good riddance.

Day 241. Everything seems to be calming down and getting back to normal. My desire to drink has diminished, which is a good thing for now. I really don’t want to drink if I’m not confident I’m in complete control of my faculties, and right now I’m not. Something’s off. I’m not enjoying my days anymore. My routines are annoying me. I want to do less after work than what I have been doing. I want to do less in the morning than what I have been doing. I want to focus on this upcoming fire season and the end of the current school year. I have a lot of projects to start this summer, and I hope they all go well. I’m almost done with the first draft of my novel, and that might have something to do with my recent bad mood.

I feel homeless. I don’t want to go back to California and I don’t want to live in Montana anymore. I’m hoping grad school pans out, but if it does, I won’t be going anywhere for over a year. That’ll be after I turn thirty years old. I’m twenty-nine in four days. My twenties will only survive for one more year and then they’re done forever. I can’t wait for my thirties; maybe they’ll be a better decade than my twenties were. I’ll be spending the last year of my twenties in Montana, and that just means I have to make the most of it, even if I might dislike it. It’s just the way it’s gotta be.

Most, if not all, of my best times and memories have been with friends. I miss those times.

The past few weeks worth of entries have been horrible. This has become a chore more than anything. That’s a lie. There have been a few entries where I was so grateful to be writing them because I just needed to get that stuff out. But other times, when all I want to do is go to sleep or watch some TV to relax right before falling asleep, I write bullshit. It’s all bullshit, and I really hate it. What if I never made this 365 day promise to myself? Would my life be that much different? What if I just stop? Would anybody care? Would anybody notice? I stopped posting these entries to Facebook almost two months ago, and nobody has said anything about it. And looking through my logs, it doesn’t seem like anybody has even cared to visit my site on their own. So I’m writing into some void with almost no one reading. So I could just stop and nobody would know…

I would know, though. This isn’t for them. This is for me. Even if this entry and other entries are bullshit, it doesn’t matter because I took out the time in my night to lay my fingers on my keyboard and start writing about my life. I’m showing up and doing the work, even when I don’t want to. That has to count for something, right?

Day 240. You wanna know what’s scary? All I’ve been thinking about whenever I have a free moment at home is how much I want to buy some wine, drink it, watch some TV or play video games on my iPad or draw on the Paper app on my iPad, and then go to sleep early. Sometimes that former routine from my life pre-blog was so satisfying and necessary that I really miss it. I miss how it made me feel. Free and relaxed and unburdened by anything. I’ve missed it deeply since drinking on Sunday. Right now I don’t want to do anything other than going to sleep. I want to get this entry over with just so I can do that.

What’s happening? I think I can officially say I’m burnt out. I’m done, I guess, trying to be the best I can be. Maybe I’m just supposed to fail, or maybe my sights were set too high, or maybe I just need some time to recover, regroup, and restart my routines. Or maybe I don’t need to do all that I’ve done the past eight months. Maybe I just needed to do that for those eight months just to get to where I am today. I don’t know exactly where that is yet, but that’s the point of living, right? To just live and figuring out how to live it the best way you can. Maybe. Or maybe I’m just coming up with excuses to hide the fact that I’m flawed and human. Maybe I’ve been too focused on keeping these streaks alive that I totally ignored the signs all around me that I should slow down and live a little.

I haven’t read in about a week. That’s the only streak I’ve broken for longer than a day during the past eight months. Sadly, I’m not too torn up about it. I also stopped journalling in my paper journal, but that was a more deliberate decision. That fulfilled its purpose quickly, and I didn’t like the outcome. I’ll come back to it once I figure out what I want to use it for again. To be a better writer, I need to be a better reader. Remember when I wrote that? I don’t know what happened. My writing has been terrible recently, and maybe that has something to do with it. I think I’ve just been pushing myself too hard. Maybe I do need to drink some more every night. Maybe then I will lighten up and get more work done. Or maybe I’d spend it all playing video games on my iPad. Or maybe I’d start yearning for her for no other reason than the fact that I have nothing better to do.

No. I won’t do that. But maybe I will drink. I’ve written before about how I don’t like myself when I drink. Maybe it wasn’t the drinking; maybe it was just me that needed to change. I don’t know if I have, and I don’t know if I will. Maybe I’m just always gonna be a fuck up. That’s enough of a reason to drink.

Day 239. I have a little over four months left before my year is up, but I don’t know if I’m going to make it. I don’t know if I want to make it. This blog satisfied its purpose very early on, and once I got over her a few months ago, I lost the reason for this blog’s existence. I tried to make it into something else, but each of those ideas failed. Now I’m lost.

My worst entries are those that I force, and in hindsight, I like that I forced myself to keep writing because that’s what I have to do, to write, regardless of whether or not I feel like it and regardless if what I write is shittier than shit. I have to write. That’s both the burden and the life I’ve chosen because that’s who I am and who I want to be. Even if I have nothing to say, I have to keep writing. Oh god I hate that sometimes, but I just have to do it.

I’m really hoping this fire season is prolific because I need a break from my life. I need to finish my novel before I go out so I do not feel burdened by it, and I can just focus on what’s right in front of me. I’m buying multiple battery packs so I can still take pictures and write on my phone while I’m there, but that’s more creatively necessary than something I feel forced to do. It’ll be nice to not worry about what I’m going to eat or how I’m going to spend my days. That’ll be decided for me. All I have to do is hike, fight a fire, eat, hike, fight some more, and head back to camp. Best of all, I’ll get to spend time with a crew full of awesome people. C’mon wilderness: catch fire so I can have something to do.

In other news, I restarted my Max: 30 workouts today, and it was a nice change of pace from what I’ve been doing for the past two months. I think my neighbors hate me since I work out almost every day, and I work out hard, so I’m sure I’m shaking the whole building every time I do. It’s like a consistent earthquake for them, and that sucks for them. They haven’t complained so I’m not stopping. I didn’t like how my body felt today after drinking yesterday. I don’t miss that part from drinking. I like the way I feel while I’m drinking, just none of the after effects. I thought about buying a bottle of wine today, but I decided against it. I don’t know why yet. Out of habit, probably. Maybe I’ll change my mind soon.

I remember when I first started this blog, I limited myself to at least 400 words. I since changed that to 500, but I think I might change it back to 400. I didn’t want to be restricted, and that’s how I was able to ensure I wrote during that first week. Since, though? Shit. I don’t know. I’m floating right now, not sure what to do or where I’m going. It’s awful.

I went to my niece’s 3rd birthday party today, and I had a lot of fun. I drank for the first time in 237 days, and I really really enjoyed it. Maybe a little too much. I missed it. Since it had been so long since I had a drink and since I barely had any food before drinking, it went straight to my head really quickly. Now I’m thinking of going to the grocery store tomorrow or sometime this week and buying red wine and drinking it after work like I used to when I worked at McDonald’s. But then I remember why I wanted to stop drinking. When I drink, I don’t want to do anything, and I have too much to do to feel that way. Maybe I need a break… I turn 29 in one week after all.

I wasted this weekend… again. I didn’t transcribe any pages today for the first time since I started transcribing A Farewell to Arms. Instead, I finished watching the last season of Sons of Anarchy on Netflix. I didn’t do any tasks from my todo list, and I’ve been in bed since I got home from the birthday party. I talked to my friend for about an hour, which was super cathartic and more necessary than I thought, and I felt better afterward. This next week will be better than this last week, I think… I hope.

I’m back to where I never wanted to be again. I’m better, though, than I was back then, but I tried so hard not to be here to find out. I really don’t want to do anything right now. I don’t want to write — hell, I don’t want to be beholden to a daily entry anymore. I don’t care if I don’t make it to 365 daily entries. I want to skip one day, just like I broke my no alcohol streak, just to feel relaxed and more free to do what I want to do.

Montana has been shitty to me since I’ve been here. Sure, I have the best job I’ve ever had in my life and I have done three amazing fire seasons, but I don’t know how better off I am. I think I’m doomed to live a tragic life regardless of where I live. It’s my destiny. So I don’t know how better off I’ll be in grad school; I need to reconcile myself with myself. This is just who I am, and it’s stupid to try to change.

Maybe I needed to crash. Maybe I need to tear myself apart before I can start putting myself back together. Maybe I need to keep getting stronger. I’m definitely better off now than I was 238 days ago, no matter how similar or how bad it hurts. This cycle is part of who I am, I think, and I’m just living through the worst part now. I’ll get better soon enough. I just have to keep fighting, and I have to fight to win.

I made it to the end of my 200+ day Insanity workout by finishing the Championship video in my hybrid the Asylum Vol. 1/Vol. 2 workout. I feel good but not much different than I normally do. I still need to do more work on my body to get it where I want it to be, so on Monday I’m doing the Max: 30 workout again. I don’t think I’ll look or feel much different after I finish it, but it’ll keep me active while I figure out what to do next.

I’m revisiting old emotions right now. I don’t think I belong here, and I don’t know if I belong back in California. I don’t want to move anywhere yet, but I can feel that my days here in Montana are numbered. I have a great job and I’m super afraid of leaving it any time soon, but I know I can’t be there forever. I’m almost done with my novel, and that’s what I want to do with my life, and that might have something to do with my desire to leave.

I haven’t met anyone like me. I don’t want to sound arrogant or even myopic, but I think I’m incapable of making and keeping friends because I’m unsatisfied with all of them and they’re unsatisfied with me. I haven’t met many people I knew I’ve wanted to be friends with forever, and with those I have, many of them didn’t feel the same way and left me. Montana is too white, too traditional, and too complacent for my tastes. That might cause arguments with a few of my readers, but whatever. I turned off the comments not too long ago.

To celebrate the end of my workout today, I went to watch the new Avengers movie. Granted, I watched it before I worked out, but I knew I wasn’t going to skip it or anything, so I felt okay watching the movie. It was okay. It wasn’t as good as the first one, but it was worth the $6 I spent for the ticket. The last movie I saw at the theater was Interstellar, so it’s been a few months. I miss the movies, but I hate the theaters where I live. I could drive to Missoula, but driving fifty miles for a movie seems extravagant to me. Maybe I have no reason to bitch.

I have been thinking of going to Missoula to sign up for some sort of martial art. That and trying to be more social. I need to move away from here, but I don’t know where to go. I really hope I get into a graduate school next year because I want to leave. I might change my mind soon or have my convictions deepen. I’m writing about how I’m feeling now. That’s all I seem to be okay at.

I really feel tempted to drink again, but I like the idea of staying sober. I feel stronger that way, and I want to feel strong right now. I want to feel like I can do anything because I haven’t felt that way recently. At least today was a good day.

I need to make some changes, but I don’t know what that entails yet. I’m almost done with my novel, so I know I want to spend a lot more time with it. That means not only finishing it but working as hard as I can during the rewrite and making it the best it can be. I’m not expecting to write anything “literary,” far from it, but what I am expecting is to write a really well-written, well-told, and highly entertaining piece of fiction. If I can do that, then I’ll be happy. Once I finish this first draft, though, I do also want to start thinking about writing some short stories, simply to pad out my writing portfolio for when I apply to grad schools later this year. I also need to make a list of what grad schools to apply to and what their requirements are. I haven’t been putting too much focus on that these past few weeks, but I’m going to have to find the time this month. No excuses.

Another thing I have to think about is my workout. I finally finish my 200+ days of Insanity tomorrow with the last workout of my Insanity: the Asylum Vol. 1/Vol. 2 hybrid workout. I’m going to do a bit of pre-celebrating by going to the Avengers before working out. Once I come back and write, I will workout and make it official. On Monday, I’m planning to redo the Insanity Max: 30 workout, which feels like an appetizer compared to the past 60 days. The more I workout and the better I feel and look, the more I want to workout and the stronger I want to get. I don’t know how much Insanity Max: 30 will help me, but I know it won’t hurt. I need to figure out what workout comes next.

This is the first day of a new month. I turn 29 in less than two weeks, and I don’t know what I want to accomplish during the last year of my twenty’s. I know I want to get into a good grad school, but I’m yearning for something more than that yet I don’t know what that will be. I want something epic to happen and far from tragic. I’ve had too much tragedy lately that I need something good to happen to me this next year. Maybe I’ll have a great fire season, and I’ll fight many fires and make many friends. Maybe my novel will turn out better than I could have imagined, and I’ll get it published somewhere. Maybe I’ll start doing something I can’t even imagine yet — photography? — that’ll make me super happy and fulfilled. There are a million things that can happen between now and then, and all I hope for is that I’m healthy, strong, and happy. If I’m those three things, then I know I’ll die happy.

I’m thinking of taking my blog offline but continuing to write on my computer and not in my paper journal. I like this routine, but I don’t know if having a blog is a good idea, at least not with this type of content. That’s one more thing I’m going to have to figure out.