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12:39 p.m. - September 21, 2003 Invited to the men's group Wednesday nights and as I always have, I say I work, and wonder whether they see though the camouflage. I don't attend the men's group because I don't feel I belong or have a place either in the faith sub-community or in the surrounding male gender. How silly and fatuous to say that I don't feel like a man but there it is, palpable and heavy. I don't belong anywhere, lack the ability to grow roots with places and people both. And evidently it's all in my head which is even more confusing; at least if people turned their backs when I approached, I could differentiate between external and internal schemas, but people come to me despite my coldness, despite lacking good conversational skills. Can I - again - chalk it up to childhood and that urge for self-preservation domineering the less-strong urges for companionship for fear of vulnerability? And I'm beginning to suspect that urge emits pheremones that guys the likes of Spec and Ryan pick up on, a chemical formula one part gullibility, one part boi-ism, two parts yes-I'll-let-you-push-me-around. So what am I really saying? Am I talking myself into re-imaging the schema to accommodate desultory solitude much like the wolf, or am I coming to terms with knowing some people are meant to be alone and make that aloneness work? Nascent hypotheses aside, the pattern fits: Jason struggles to trust people, ergo Jason has no people. Jason struggles, period.
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