This Sunday, who will win?

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Darkly.

This is a still from Richard Linklater's upcoming film, "A Scanner Darkly," starring Keanu Reeves and Winona Ryder. The movie, a thriller based upon Philip K. Dick's creepy sci-fi novel about twisted drug addiction, is to be animated like "Waking Life," which should add an interesting touch to the narrative and look to the film.

I like Linklater. I like Dick.

So this should be awesome.

Don't come around here no more?

Last night, after sitting at my laptop to outline a potential story and instead playing a couple dozen games of computer pinball, I realized that I have a sort of writer's block that's new to me.

All my best essays, my most profound and deep (yes, I find my own essays profound and deep), have been written while I was depressed, in a mild funk or just experiencing a general malaise. "Circle," for instance, is just about the darkest I've ever gone.

An essay I wrote for my writing class, which started a couple weeks ago, dealt with my teenage thoughts of suicide, and it was met with all sorts of praise.

When I'm happy, I feel like the quality's not there in my writing. When I try to branch out and write fiction (which I've been trying to focus my attention on for the weeks that I've been gone from here), I feel like the words aren't coming because they're not supposed to come that way. When I write fiction, I feel out-of-my-element. I feel like a fake.

It's not yet working the way I want it to work. I need to find the way to make it work.

Of course, there's something else going on.

I haven't felt like writing much lately. I haven't felt like bitching much lately. I haven't felt like using the blog to vent about personal slights and injustices and bitter, little observations. I haven't had fun Kacoon stories to tell. I haven't had to worry about never finding love or talk about how bad being alone on Valentine's Day is.

Because I'm in love. Really in love. Really, really, really in love. Like Cupid-knocked-me-upside-the-head in love. I'm secure enough to know that this relationship is real and serious. And I'm all in it. I'm all with the flower-buying. The afternoon naps. The cozy snuggling. The saccharine silliness.

Yesterday, I bought him veggie burgers.

Then, eager to do something for us in my clean kitchen, I made a chocolate layer cake. Devil's food. I didn't know how to properly layer it, so the top layer fell apart while I was frosting it. The cake looks like it exploded.

I called him about it, and we laughed.

Those of you in-the-know know about my relationship already. I don't really want to talk about it here, for I like the idea that I have something private, something that belongs to me.

Besides, I have more than myself to consider in regard to my relationship, so I'm going to do that.

I love him. I love him terrible. I love, love, love him.

But, beyond my happiness, I sorta have an irksome new lesson to learn.

How can I - the supposed former perpetual victim drowning in his own issues - write now that I'm happy?

I can't and won't sacrifice my happiness. Maybe, though, I can write around it.

So, to keep up with the writing and to keep up with "my voice," I'm going to use the blog as a tool. It'll help me keep up with the writing practice, anyway.

When life takes hold.

I can't tell you guys exactly where my head is. I don't really want to do so, and I realize that no one's really asking me to do so.

As I said earlier, I'm on hiatus. I don't know for how long. Maybe a long time. Maybe I'll check in on occasion.

Life is changing, and I'm going with it.

In the meantime, feel free to check on the blogs at the sidebar, or you could read some of my older essays.

I don't know when I'll be back. What started off as a short break has grown into something else entirely. I'm learning the value of keeping things to myself.

As you've seen, I will check in sporadically to see what's going on or to look at the counter, though I don't know if anyone ever actually reads this site anymore.

This isn't goodbye. Things have just changed so much since even New Year's. I'm working on projects that take me away from here. And I'm hanging out with a whole new set of people.

Life is good. Really, really good.

While I'm in the middle of it, though, I don't want to share it. I just want for it to be as good as it is for as long as it can be.

This blog has done a lot for me. It helped me understand myself better. It helped me cope with problems that I was having. And, personally, it helped me to appreciate my trip to London more. Those entries are, I think, my personal favorites.

Anyway, e-mail me. I'm still around.

See you later.