I've said it before. It's hard to think of something to write when I'm in a good mood.

Today, I'm in a good mood. Knowing this, you may be able to deduce that I'm having a hard time thinking of something to write about.

No shit, Sherlock.

Oh, I could just write about why I'm in a good mood. That would be a hoot, I'm sure. But then people would start PMing me and calling me an asshole and telling me how stupid and immature I am...

I already know all that stuff. So I'm not going to say why I'm in a good mood.

What I'll do instead, and this has become my standard fallback method when I can't think of anything better to write about, is I'll write about my weekly horoscope from Free Will Astrology:

Dave, You don't need to know how your computer and car work in order to use them. Their inner workings may be unfathomable to you, Dave, but that doesn't matter as long as you benefit from what they do for you. Let's apply that same principle to a certain relationship that is perplexing you, you nitwit. Dave, You obviously get something out of your alliance with this person, since you've chosen not to leave it. Yet you seem bothered by the fact that you can't figure out what you are to each other and where you're supposed to go next. My advice to you, Dave? For now, stop trying to understand it. Just surrender to the fruitful mystery. Simply let your connection perform its enigmatic magic, Dave.

Okay, so I might have personalized it just a little bit.

I was actually thinking along very similar lines the other night. No, really. I was. I do have thoughts every now and then. No, really. I do.

Too often we seem to have this need to explain every little twist and turn in our lives and in our emotions. The only good mystery is a solved mystery. The only good predicament is one that we've already wormed ourselves out of. The only good emotion is one that's been analyzed and categorized and just basically had all of the life sucked right out of it.

"Bullshit!" I say.

Talking with my friend the other night, I could almost hear the gears turning away in her head as she tried valiantly to make some sense of what I was telling her. I'd say something, and her head would shake. I'd say something else, and her eyes would roll back in her head. I'd answer one of her questions, and her hand would fly into the air.

I may as well have been speaking gibberish to her. Nothing made any sense.

And I say that this is a good thing.

Look at all of the shit I've put myself through in the past year. If I'd figured it all out back when it first started - how much fun would that have been? How much interest would this 'blog have generated?

The answers to both questions are: Not very fucking much.

I sit here and I write about how much I want answers to my questions, but the truth is that I like being confused. I enjoy being kept in the dark about what's going on. If I knew everything, then my life would be boring, and I don't want to go back to being bored with life.

It took an awfully long time for me to find something interesting. I'm not ready to lose that mystery just yet.