I don't know, ever try so hard to escape something that it will not let you escape no matter how much you struggle and toil? I've had that happen to me twice in my life. The first time it happened to me was in Tulane when all I did was feel out of place and get mistreated by professors. The second was last night, when I realized that for all my efforts, they're useless. Maybe you're right, maybe you have something going on about that, but I think fate has ordained it to me... maybe it is so I can write the ideal novel through the emotions I am toiling with, maybe thruogh finding a way to encourage myself to subside it. Regardless, I am still the singular unit and efforts proved naught but failure to me. Don't think of this as complete despondency though... I just think that I was brought back with a new quest.