Holly is making me heartsick

I feel depressed and uninspired. I'm trying to write something good, but I just can't. All around me, good things are happening. I have every reason to be happy but I can't shake it into myself. I know it will pass.

Sometimes when I'm taking a shower, I get a lightning bolt of inspiration. One time I solved a complex math formula I had been working on for four solid days. Today, I was inspired to write a novella--I think I could condense a character sketch into a few dozen pages that would hold interest. My model is the character study of Holly Golightly in Truman Capote's "Breakfast at Tiffany's". I think I may be in love with her. I somehow want to save her. I'm obsessed with her, but she is perpetually lost. Sometimes I can put it out of mind, for months, even.

If you've seen the movie, forget it--you don't know what I'm talking about (it's very loosely based). Holly is much darker, less oblivious, and more in control of herself. I visualize Audrey Hepburn manifesting Capote's characterization. I loved her first words "I can't find the goddam key!" It's a prologue to her recklessness. Her carefree style. Living in the moment--certainly an objectionable lifestyle to some, but tragic to me.

Somehow, I found myself studying a beautiful photo of a silhouetted dancer. The lines against a window pane, her posture, the bleakness of the room, the mundane grey behind her--it made me feel so lonely to look at that picture, like I was the only person the could see it and feel exactly this way. Everyone else sees dancing. I am so sad to think that.

My emotions are so foolishly wrapped up in Holly that I can't throw them into another book right now--it's killing me. I've tried to start about 5 in the past week or so, but they become repulsive to me after a couple of pages.

Yeah, I guess I'm a creepy weirdo. Maybe I'll come back and delete this before 200 people from all over the freakin' world read it, but this is where I am right now. Welcome to my craziness.