This really makes me want to end my writing career

Monday Aug, 17th 2015. 9:46 pm. I just unpacked my computer
after a few days of R&R and realized I have too many secondary
residences. I read a amazing 18 page memoir yesterday. I was walking
home today doing my typical 50 km or so walk and realized there was
just too many voices kilometers away from me. I was frustrated zigging and zagging trying to avoid people up and down trails. I just seem to be irritated by people in general. I know people have there freedom to walk the trails of the wooded areas just as much as me but for some reason I just don’t like them. Why is this. I feel like I am invading peoples privacy as I walk and I have a disturbing habit of starting to talk to people that are 100 meters or more from me that I can’t see. I start conversations with them like I have known them my whole life at times I am just awkward that way I suppose. I hear a conversation at first irritated and start talking about a young woman I had great feelings for in my 20’s. I kind of chuckle to myself as I do this to warn people more or less of my presence. Then I go on to as why would she sleep naked beside me if she was married and owned a moving company in Toronto. Perhaps she lies a lot much like myself. I guess this particular woman bothered me since I couldn’t get enough of her. I muttered loudly as I also seem to like to embarrass people if I can I am not sure why. Then as I became closer I rounded a corner and realized it was two young woman. I guess walking with them became a bit awkward yet its great now I actually go to walk with someone. I guess I am still very lonely and just lack the ability to talk to strangers. I remembered how I called one young lady up when I was in grade 6 or so and wanted to walk on the trail with her and hold her hand. Again I just seem to be unable to seal the deal. Her mother seemed bothered by my call I don’t think she liked me much and seemed agitated by my call. One of these two young ladies seem to look much like her as I walked by them. I was unable to pass since I felt I was invading there privacy. I am unsure why I make things difficult for myself when I see something I really want. I have always been that way I guess. Self destructive behavior. Unable to go for it. Well my moment was over and lets face it if I was too run back and ask if I could hold her hand it would have been awkward. I get confused easy when a beautiful woman is around me for some reason. I start to feel like this is just too easy something has to go wrong don’t ruin
your life. Not that she would say yes to any of my advances. Maybe it
was the beer talking. I always seem to feel like there is too much
pressure on me to do absolutely everything. I am suppose to recognize people faster and quicker and acknowledge them and be cordial and call them by there correct names. Meanwhile no one every does this for me. Well I shouldn’t say never another young lady that worked the local pub did. I couldn’t understand how she did since I couldn’t remember her from the last time I went in. Perhaps she overheard me or spoke to someone that knew me. Or perhaps I’m famous. If I am I sure would love to know who finally is going to pay for all those books since even to this day I still haven’t received a royalty check. Its been nearly 5 years since I wrote my first book. This really makes me want to end my writing career realizing no one really gives a shit in the book industry. Who would write another book realizing that there is no financial benefit to writing no matter how many people read your books. How could you you be a career writer if there is no money to be made writing. The email is on the back of the book how hard could it be to email me. Unless the only people reading it are running from the law or breaking it. Perhaps this is the problem. Maybe it serves no purpose making yourself accessible if everyone just hates your guts but wants to know constantly what you think of them. Well if your a criminal heads up I think your a
asshole. This may be the fundamental problem with books. The more
you complain or exemplify a person the more popular you become.