So, I've been staring at my commissions list, and I realize how little a dent I've put in on it. This is a bit galling, as, well, I have plenty of free time at first glance, and I need the money. I often look back on a day and wonder where the time's gone.

Just a heads up, this is going to get a little heavy for my journals. I'm not fishing for sympathy, but I feel like writing out my problems will help.

The short version is thus: I'm one part crippling loneliness, and one part excessive ennui. I live in Orlando, and despite having arguably the most escapist entertainment in the world, it can be a very lonely place. Everything's so spread out and we lack a proper mass transit system, so if you're not going to a specific place with people you know, it's not really worth your time. My problem is that all my friends are gone. Some of them moved away, some of them I've never met face to face, others have simply fallen out of contact, and some, I realize now, were never really my friends to begin with, their affections for me tainted by more cynical purposes that only came to light recently.

That's not to say I don't have special people in my life. I have some very dear friends that I talk with almost every day, but... they're all scattered to the four winds, one two states away, the other on the opposite end of the country, etc. It's gratifying to feel the sense of connection despite the miles, but eventually, you realize that it's all akin to Plato's allegory of the cave- I'm staring at shadows on a wall. Shadows of very real things, real people, that I care about deeply... but at the end of the day, I'm still stuck in a dark room, staring at a screen or yelling into a little rectangle made by Apple.

And to my close friends, and you know who you are, please don't misunderstand this as you doing something wrong, or, me not being grateful for your friendship. I -love- you guys. You've been very, very good to me, but... you don't know how much I'd like to hug you in person, treat you to a meal, or show you all my favorite places in Disney World. It can't be helped, by either party. But that seems to be the running theme.

I actually met a girl. A beautiful girl. She's smart, adventurous, kind, and we seem to sync on such a level, I can't imagine where she's been all my life. We share common interests, have a similar sense of humor, and we never seem to run out of things to talk about. We've finally committed ourselves to dating, but every time we put a plan into motion, the cosmos align, only to literally rain on our parade. So far, three out of four dates were cancelled, and the fourth one fell through halfway into it because her mad roommate decided to have a mental breakdown, and she had to leave lest he hurt himself. That was a week ago, and I haven't seen her since.

Oh, and she doesn't know I'm furry yet. But that's a bridge we cross when we get to it.

Another part of my listlessness lies in the disappointments of my nearly non-existent career. Right now, I'm working one night a week. And I hate it. The reasons for this are too convoluted to list, but to suffice to say, a year later, and the show I was hired to work at Disney is still not firing at all cylinders. Oh, the show's finally running alright, but they're only running it on select nights a week. Because Disney is fueled by magic, and magic is not made up of common fucking sense.

Perhaps the biggest blow to my gut is the realization that... virtually no one is going to want to publish my novel. Not because I don't believe in my writing talent; it's one of few things I still take pride in. But because of what it is; a rolling, gigantic fantasy epic. No one wants to publish a fantasy novel almost as long as Game of Thrones from an unknown talent. So. That's so many years of my life leading up to a disappointing end. I fought my giant, only to find out that there's ten more behind him, each one harder to win over than the last.

So... in some small way, if you've read this far, you'll understand why I've been so slow. I've lost a good chunk of my drive. But, this is temporary, for this too, shall pass. I've not given up on my novel, I'm just... preparing for a long haul and looking at new ideas. I've not given up on my girl, I just need to make contingency plans, and smack that roommate of hers when I meet him. I'm down, but I'm not out, yet. And with a firm reliance on God and a metric fuckton of allergy medicine to get me through a truly heinous allergy season, I'll soldier on. To my commissioners, thank you very much for your patience. I'm sorry if I've disappointed, but I hope to have at least a few finished by the end of next week.

Take care and God bless,
-Renard