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Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Monday, January 19, 1981

Having a brand new fancy typewriter does not help. I have been here
over a week and haven't written anything. Not that a lot hasn't
happened. Today I confronted Bill about his talking about me to
Simone but not directly to me. This is not worth writing about.
Walking to the post office for the mail. Returning and feeling
completely disconnected from everything. Having ideas about how I
want things to come out but don't see how to do it. Lonely feelings.
Nobody I can trust really. Only Simone and Linda give me a feeling of
not being alone. They are away most of the time. I'm very stuck
going to the post office for the mail every day. It feels as though I
must do it. I have to do it. I think about how to change things so
something else happens. I sleep until noon today. Not that I'm
depressed, because I get up right after waking and masturbating. A
phone call goes unanswered. Somehow I can't capture the mood that
made it possible for me to write so much on FH. A phone call from
Linda last night. It makes me feel good to hear she misses me and
looks forward to seeing me again. She tells me the story of how she
was here the night I called Dana. They were in bed together. She
jumped out and ran to the kitchen to listen on the extension. She
felt a bit guilty. It was not possible for her to do anything with
Dana after that incident. She wrote me a letter but it didn't get
there in time. She wanted me to hear about it from her before Dana
told me the story. He already has. The way he describes her is how
Simone described him when I was away. Simone call to tell me of her
plans for the week and that she realized why she likes me so much.
Its because she enjoys being with me. Simple. A few days ago she
tells me of this idea she has to make things go faster. Why not a
little newsletter describing all the things that are going on with us
and the people we know. I remind her that this is an idea of mine
from about 4 weeks ago. She thinks it might isolate us even more.
Its true but it will also cause people to be very interested in whats
going on. Those who are really interested in living with us will
understand. We had a talk with Dana the other day about some recent
problems, like his using the apartment to refinish some of his old
furniture. The smell gets into everything. It is resolved by having
him move things down to the Hampshire Place office. Its also more
room. The other things was comfort. Last Tuesday night the dream
group met here. It was too cold for Simone. She wanted to raise the
temperature. Dana wanted to keep it down to save money. My concern
was that everyone should be comfortable. We don't have to suffer like
a bunch of Pilgrims during our life. Better to spend a little more
money to be comfortable. He argues that she is not really here and so
doesn't have much say in the matter. I say that is irrelevant. He
sleeps with her, has an emotional relationship with her, and this is a
minor factor - that she does not technically live here. I am eating
chocolate again. The result of this was Simone's saying that people
talking to each other about what's going on is very important. That
this is a good basis for building a healthy community, which she and I
both want. We try to talk about more important things with other
people that we know. Suddenly I feel a little bit better. A whole
page. Another letter from Genie Berman today. She wrote to me almost
exactly one year ago, also from Japan. She still thinks fondly of me
and my jokes. Maybe, she says, I will visit sometime soon. She goes
to Italy in the next few months. I wrote her a mushy love letter last
year. Something more sedate and rational this time. A data with
Caryn Schwartz yesterday. She called to cancel. My mistake. I
pushed a little too hard. She was obviously quite stirred up by our
conversation of a few days ago. My intuition, she said, tells me not
to do it. She has some connection with a TORI like group. Her
friends are in it so she goes, but does not like what goes on. It
sounds very chaotic. Chicken bones all over the place she says. A
rather withdrawn, authoritarian, older man is the leader. We talk a
lot about FH. Maybe she will go sometime. She has sent Gertrude some
information about Intentional Education for the school. In the
beginning, a difficult time with Simone last night. It was almost
one. I go to bed. She gets here and wants me to go to her place. I
say no. It is late, I'm tired, not feeling well, don't want to ride
there, go to bed, sleep, get up, get on the subway, ride back to
Cambridge. She protests and complains, but stays. She is withdrawn
at first, but we start talking. She is under a lot of pressure. Its
from work, Carol, having her other place still, Michael, her parents
this week, after a visit. She goes away to California with Carol in
two weeks. After a while it gets a little better. She doesn't want
any clam juice from me tonight. Well, maybe... But we are too tired.
Some more rambling talk, some games, fooling around, and soon we both
feel quite good. And so just go to sleep. I think some more about
the CAMBRIDGE CHRONICLES. What if we wrote several pages with
something about all the people we know, what's going on with them at
this time, make a mailing list and send it. What would happen? I
could send it to everyone on my Cambridge list, and put together a
list from Simone and my own directory. Well, almost two pages! This
is getting exciting. But I now wonder about if I should type
everything single space. Certainly for a newsletter. Difficult
getting going today. So many things to do and lots of uncertainty
about which way to go. Edwin, while talking with him yesterday, tells
me my biggest problem is settling on one or two things to do then
putting lots of effort into it. Instead I try to do everything of
interest to me and can't do any of them very well, at least not to my
satisfaction. He's right. And now I think of doing even more.
Perhaps a new full time job, and the seminars Joe has been helping me
with. Dinner with Ron and Ellen a few days ago. Simone thinks we may
have freaked them out talking about our various relationships. But
they were interested, and it was more interesting than other things we
talked about. Somehow horses came up and I was reminded of all my
adventures as a youth. Raising Suzie from a colt, Star who we got rid
of only when my stepfather broke some of his ribs one day when the
horse went crazy, and others. I think of trying to write about my
childhood. Memories of lots of seminal incidents, or so the seem. Or
some things I don't remember, but my mother and grandmother tell me
of. The end of the 2nd page.

Maybe I should go visit my grandparents in Florida. They can tell me
a lot about my early years. I have heard lots of stories already.
Record it or maybe even videotape the event. I begin to feel a bit
teary eyed. Dana and I speak a little about our childhoods. He did
not like having so many brothers and sisters. It was not a good time
for him. My mind flashes over many incidents of extreme feeling from
when I was a little boy. Visiting friends of my father. He talks
about my being so withdrawn, and how my sister gets along much better,
and quicker. The earliest memories I have of living in a trailer,
West of Cody, looking out the window, having the measles. A vague
memory of a communal bathing place with males and females together.
But I think this must be a creation of mine. I can't imagine that
such a thing really happened in Cody, Wyoming, sometime around 1950.
Saturday, two days ago, Porter Square shopping center, a bookstore. I
see Sandy Margolin. First time in years. I feel a little excited.
Should I say anything, or pretend not to. Then I glance to the side
and see some books by Jerzy Kosinski. Spend a little time looking at
the covers. Finally the nerve. Do you read that sort of thing, I
comment about the book she is holding. Hello she says, long time no
see. Last she had heard of me was that I'm in some religious group.
Funny how rumors get turned upside down. I mean how rumors are
reality turned upside down. No, it was a free sexuality group. But
its a lot different now. At first I thought she was referring to the
Mormon Church, from which I had been excommunicated in 1973. Not
that. We talk about Jessie, David, and what she is doing. Living on
Eustis Street, divorced from David, shared custody, a new boyfriend.
Had been working as an editor. We say nothing about Cheyenne or
Adele. I speculate about how much of this will get back to her.
Briefly talk about how I may write this book about myself, but having
problems getting started. She has to go.

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