Click HERE to view the Premium Art Deadlines List.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Friday the 13th, February 1981

I wake up this morning and Simone says to me, I wish I didn't love you. Last night she said we could sleep in the same room whenever guests, like her friend Luca from Italy, are staying here. Her little mind is still at work trying to get what she wants. You haven't given up, I say to her. There is a twinge of anxiety about continuing to fight against this. What a drag. She accuses me of trying to find things wrong with Michael. He finally confessed to having people over to her house, after denying it twice. I have the same suspicision about her car. The front door has a new dent. The registration has been taken out of its envelope and something done with it. As though the car had been in an accident and someone had to present this information, either to another driver or the police. But on the other hand he keeps asking her to trust him no matter what. I have the paranoid idea that a court summons will appear for her some day because the car was involved in an accident. She thinks its only my jealousy. I think you doesn't pay enough attention to what's going on. Have I seen it right? At the moment I am not aware of jealousy. On the one hand I certainly say good riddance if she goes back to him. It won't get any better. They are both swimming in poison. He won't really expose himself, and she doesn't want to see what it means. They are like little emotional time bombs. Each of these unadmitted and unseen traps. I get furious at myself when the opportunity to really show myself passes. Next time, I think to myself. But the same happens again and again. A vulnerable feeling, jealousy, rejection, fear, pops up in me and the opportunity to say how I feel is there, but ............... and then the chance is past. The feeling subsides. The situation changes. The opportunity is lost. Enough of this. I just can't say it right. Everything comes out of me so contrived. I have to stop and think of each sentence. What is it today? Its a little bit about the lack of money even though I've just deposited almost $1300 in a new personal account. Joe could make over $3000 today and I kick myself about not doing the work to get my seminar ready. Fantasies about buying a blender, one of those tooth irrigating machines, and a washing machine. Imagining the house we will live in one day. A dream about Adele and Cheyenne last night. Its a birthday party for me. Ive are trying to arrange same chairs around a table. There aren't enough. Its very crowded. There are ropes or strings hanging down from the ceiling. Just then Adele and Cheyenne walk into view. I pretend not to see them at first. Don't remember any more. Yesterday was my last day at Sturbridge. The first bus back went by without stopping. A second bus rerouted to get me. No seats. I have to stand. It makes me a little selfconscious. There appears to be a seat next to someone. For a moment I wonder if its a child covered by a coat to keep warm. I get warm and remove my coat. Then ask the person next to that seat if I can sit there. Its only a coat and a bag. Standing was uncomfortable. But it was a struggle for me to ask about the place. It seems so stupid. I might have ended up standing all the way to Boston. But some sort of strange fear of speaking up made me stand there for some amount of time. All the while struggling inside myself about asking for this seat. It seems crazy to have been so anxious about such a simple situation. It seemed as though everyone was

Monday, March 12, 2007

Wednesday, February 11, 1981

Simone has just asked me for a pen. What color, I say. I don't care'
It is not a pleasant tone of voice. For the second night she has been
struggling with me. Tonite it is about whether or not people, other
than her, will sleep here, the place where both of us will be living,
or at the other person's place. She talks with Michael about it now.
She talks with everyone about it. Trying to raise support for her
position. Last night we fought, but first about whether we would
share the same bedroom. It was the same. I want my cwn room. She wants
to have it with me. Its a fight that's happened at least 3 times
before. But its getting close to her moving here. I tell her that
restrictions on my relationships with other people are not possible.
It is possible that someone I'm very close to may want to live with
us. She already has me and Dana. But she says Dana tells her he won't
sleep with her when I'm here. This is | his problem. In the end she
may have to leave me and find someone else who will do ; what she
wants. She won't gaurantee how she'll act if anything happens in front
of | her. Last night in a bar in Brookline, five of us, me, Simone,
Dana, Donna, and Carol, talked about it. Donna said she couldn't do
anything like this. She leaves alone most of the time. She has a
boyfriend on the West Coast. She's the sort who prefers a little
distance. Carol wanted to talk about Disneyland, San Diego, and the
rest of her recent trip to California. She did not like the
seriousness of the talk. I She also felt left out and that the
spotlight was being taken away f m m her. But people are more inclined
to join in an interesting conversation rather than superficial
chatter. There is a lot of tension between us. She stills talks to
Michael on the phone. I don't know how to be more straight tf onward
with her. These little rules of hers are only to prevent situations
where her own difficulties come out. She knows she wants exactly the
same for herself. She wants a deeper relationship with Dana, and has
probably thought of Michael living with us. It is probably only their
difficulties that prevent it. If they could do it I'm sure she would
be quite agreeable. None of the others want this though. Jeff told
her today that he wouldn't sleep with her again l if she moved in
here. She uses every little angle and trick to try and dislodge me
from my position. She is talking with Michael about marriage right
this very moment. Trying to cover all the bases, just in case things
don't work out here. They won't l for just this reason. Imagining that
something might go wrong soon leads to the first tiny clue that,
indeed, something is going wrong. Maybe the first clue is not even in
| the right direction, but it is a clue' It can be interpreted in the
right direction. Now they are arguing about who left who and under
what circumstances. Should I endure the pain now, get out of it and
start again, she asks him. Dana doesn't want her to marry Michael
because of his fucked up parts, again, I'm am overhearing more of
their phone conversation. You started going out with Linda one week
after we broke up, she throws at him. Will you sleep with me when
Richard's here? (more overhearing) But I have my own things.
Compulsion today. Touching my fingers. It sounds strange, but is an
old habit. Michael says he's sleeping with two other women now, and
Simone | makes three, and that's too much to handle. I can't seem to
escape it. Its time to try something else to get out of this rut. You
know sex and love have been the same for me ever since I've gone out
with Skip. More Simone there. I can't keep my ears off the
conversation. Michael, you know we have the best sex together. You
don't want to come inside me because you don't want to totally let go.
I don't have great orgasm with Richard. I do with you. It turns out
that I have the best orgasms with Linda. Do you remember the first
night that I met you and said that I wanted to fuck you? You have the
same problem that we all have Michael. Its hard for you to feel loved.
If you cant feel loved by me then you won't feel loved by anybody. Its
my own fear. I don't know if Richard's going to hurt me. You're saying
no sex, because I can't handle it. Why am I getting sexually excited
right now, he asks her. Its stupid all these people rejec- ting each
other because they are afraid of being rejected. I go to Simone while
she is on the phone and kiss her many times, very loudly. Michael says
he won't see her for a week. I go back and kiss her some more. Now
Michael won't see you for two weeks, I say. And then a third time. Not
for three weeks, you won't see her, I say. I close the door. She is
trying to rescue her relationship with him. Best to let them dig up
their graves and really see what's there. A compulsive day. My
fingers. Touching the four fingers with the thumb. Both hands at the
same time. Mathematical patterns. Touch them in one direction, then
the other. Thumb on index finger, move it and touch the middle, and so
on. Other patterns. Start with the little finger and go the other way.
Do it one direction twice, then the other direction twice. Reverse it.
Reverse a combination of both these patterns. And so on with great and
increasing complexity until I have lost count, or my thoughts take me
away from it. My stepfather used to mimic me when he saw me do this.
It went on for awhile. Then I stopped doing it so overtly or often.
Don't remember when it started. Maybe about 14 or 15. It stopped after
some months. Still do it, but very carefully, when nobody is around.
Today, for instance. This thing with Simone. It causes lots of
anxiety. I get nervous. Have some fights in my head about it. Start
this finger touching thing. Catch myself. Scrapping my feet also. I
touch the toe and heel with every step. Always trying to touch the
same number of times with both feet. Its a compulsion to try and make
it the same number of times with both feet if I miss. Grandmother
always told me to stop dragging my feet. It usually went with the head
bent down, looking at the ground in front of me as I walked along.
What did I fret about then? I was only a little boy. What do little
boys fret about? Would there be any friends around to play with? Would
I get an ice cream bar that night? Would I be able to watch something
on TV? Or was I having fights with someone then? Did I fight with her
about what I could or couldn't do? I can't remember. For some ten
years it has been fighting with one woman or another. Or murderous
fantasies about offing someone. Sexual fantasies about some of the
girls I liked. Or what life would be like when I finally got out of
there and away from home. I remember running and shooting games in the
dark. I never wanted it to end. Someone always called me home. It was
total catharsis. Yelling and screaming and killing. Nothing was held
back. It went on to exhaustion. But then it went on still more. In the
third grade we played a running game. In the beginning one person I
was it in the middle of a big field. All the others were on one side
of the field. The object was to run to the other side without getting
caught or tagged by the person who was it. You were on that person's
side when he tagged you. Then everyone had to run again, to the other,
original, side. It went on till the people who were it had tagged
everyone. I played with the older kids, up to highschool. Sometimes I
would be the last one caught. I was only 8 or 9. It made me like a
wild animal. I put the fear of death in me to keep going. It was
unbelieveably exciting. The twisting and turning | and dodging needed
to escape. Every sense became magnified. Balance and coordination were
not normal. Sometimes I would have the feeling of tearing myself apart
to move in a way that would allow me to escape being caught. This
image of the playing field and their relationship to the school
buildings is a vivid image in my mind. The tricks and fakes to get
away from a chaser gave me the chance to be creative. I would always
come up with same new move. In second grade I managed to keep a ball
away from all the other boys in my class. They took turns chasing me.
I wasn't caught. Finally I threw the ball away. It was clear they
wouldn't catch me. But then I ask, is this the way it really happened,
or only my desire rusting away at memories. There are same parts of it
I know to be imagination. But what parts? Simone asks if I really
wrote down her conversation with Michael. Now she reads it and makes
corrections to what I have written. Carol didn't go to Disneyland or
San Diego. Jeff said he wouldn't sleep with me here, Amory Street, not
that he wouldn't ever sleep with again. Maybe those are the only
corrections? She just reads now. Dana has gone out for the evening. He
doesn't tell Simone or me as he doesn't want it written about in these
notes. Then an idea' Why not call some of the possibilities and say is
Dana still there? This will tell me who it is or who it isn't. Simone
has to correct me on same other points about Michael. He says he will
see her 3 times next week. You have some weird perceptions, she says.
He didn't say he wouldn't see me for three weeks. In fact he said he
would marry me if things continued to go so well for us. Aha! Exactly
my prediction of same weeks ago. I remind her of this. She has to
modify it further. No, he said he was open to the possibility, not to
marrying me. He wants to know if he can trust me. Can she I tolerate
not having sex with me' Michael asks? That would make you a lot more
acceptable to me. Simone tells me a clue about Dana. He says something
about walking down to the office with her if she wants to go there.
That means it must be the redhead' She's the only one in that
direction. But now the question is, who called who? He mentioned
having a date with her tomorrow. Just now Simone says Michael asked
her to come over this evening, but you have to sleep on the couch, he
says. No thanks she says. Why not go out this Friday, Simone asks. No,
you weren't clear about what you wanted and I've asked someone else,
he says. Michael tells her he will see her at least once a month
forever, regardless of who she is with or married to. Just now another
idea. That rascal Dana, its about him. I think that if it were
arranged so

Sunday, March 11, 2007

Tuesday, February 10, 1981

So many things in the last few days - where to start? Just talked to
Sten about his going back to FH. On the surface he seems quite cool.
But there must be some kind of fight going on. Some internal pressure.
Thursday is the day. Maybe and maybe not. I was assaulted by Deanna
last night. Fortunately my size and strength were sufficient to
overcome her intensity. She still claims to be owed money. The police
came. I don't feel competant to handle violence. The animal in me
really came out. Had she been a little more vicious I might have done
more than get her out of my way. She threw water in my face and
refused to let me leave the office. The police told her to file a
court complaint. I was shaking and extremely agitated by it. Almost 24
hours later I am still shaking a bit from it. Hopefully it is over.
Yesterday started as a very good day. At the beginning Linda called,
about 7 in the morning. We meet at the Harvard Square bus station and
take the subway to her place. Our original intent was to have
breakfast. So we wait at her place for someone to show up with paints.
No show. The subway to South Station. Inside she suddenly is startled
by something, says, oh, I forgot something. Stops at a newstand for a
book of matches. She wants coffee and something to eat from the deli.
You have to have a muffin or something, she insists. I almost ask her
if she is my mother. No, I don't want anything, I say. Yes, you've got
to have something she insists. Ok, one of those pastries. Come into
the train with me, she insists again. Put her stuff on the seat, go to
the space between two cars. She turns around, back to me and says
don't look. She's doing something. Lights a match. It goes out.
Another. Turns around and presents me with a pastry and a candle - a
surprise birthday cake. She sings happy birthday' And then its
goodbye. This is a new typeface. These two balls came in the mail
yesterday. Certainly is smaller. ~. Here's the other one. Didn't have
it on right the first time. Seems to be a little difference. Now the
question of the one being in the right place - llllll, and now the
lllllll. They are both the same. But there is no real exclamation
mark' I have to type it with a period, backspace, and the a single
quote. What a bother' The two type balls have to be cleaned. Walking
to the post office yesterday with a nagging sensation of having
forgotten something. Then it turned to the idea of am I doing enough.
Is there anything I'm leaving out, not thinking about. I have this
feeling of so many things to write about, but can't discipline myself
to do. And not only that but I feel a very strong urge to do so
lately. I have been getting some interesting impressions or pictures.
Its like a picture where you make a single brushstroke and it doesn't
mean much. But in time, with many strokes, a picture begins to appear.
It is not clear what the picture is yet, but only the sensation of one
appearing. Lots of things happening often leads me to new ideas and
explanations. New directions, new things to try. Simone has been
feeling this with all the people who are in love with her. Why can't
only one person love me, she asks. You must become an emotional
fascist and stop them from loving you, I say. Tell them to stop having
these feelings. Only one person should have them. But it doesn't work
that way. Who wants to have these feelings controlled by another
person? Mark, who still works at the Quarterway, calls and asks if she
has came back to me, or left ~ as he wants her to. I think he is in
love with her also. Dana also is getting a little agitated by the
situation. An outburst at her for saying he has more than a simple ~
friendship with her. But its obviously more than that. With all the
sexual things ~ l they do together, the intimate times we all spend
together' clearly indicate he has more of a relationship with her and
any of the women he sleeps with. Simone tells me an interesting fact
about Dana - that he has not had, until very recently, a relation-
ship with an unmarried, or unattached woman' They have all been with
someone else. This makes it emotionally safer for him. And if he
succeeds in pulling her away from who he is with, then it clearly
indicates how attached the woman is to him. Simone is making more of
her veiled hints at monogamy, having children, the value of having one
good relationship versus many casual affairs, like Dana, she
frequently adds. And 3 Dana has botched another relationship. m e
redhead invited him over yesterday. She all but raped him. Jumped in
his lap, sung him love songs. She wants to fuck him, but is not, as
she thinks she is, able to be direct about it. There I go again, a
little bit of resentment creeping in. Perhaps its not evident in the
words just written, but I notice it, just a little in myself. Anyway,
she is probably too much for him. He prefers less intense, more
subdued women like Lois or Carol. He can be the one to dominate.
Simone and I are having sexual difficulties. Its ok at the beginning,
but she soon gets very dry. The last two times have made my prick
almost raw. It smarts a little. She has a burning sensation also. mere
is this impression I have of her faking lots of little things, pushing
to hard, tightening up at unexpected times. I can't feel connected to
her. It gets better sometimes when I just stop everything and tell her
what's going on. I find myself unconsciously fucking but preoccupied
with something else in my head. This morning I ask her and she is
thinking about how big Joe's prick must be. She notices a change in
Michael's behavior. He is mare open with her, more loving. But at the
same time says that there can't be any sexual activity between them.
God knows why, but that's what he says. He has asked her to cancel
the birthday surprise party for me next Saturday and go out with him
instead. Aha! Forcing her to make decisions. Last night she admits to
wanting to do this. She is struggling over it. She has come up with
the idea to try and get Cheyenne to my party. Or even Otto' Or my
mother. A thought just now. That Michael's idea for no sex with her
now might be turned around by him if they go back together. He
mentioned indirectly such a thing just recently to her. I don't-
remember exactly how, but he still has the wish to do it. I talk with
Sten about all these things and it agrees that things are heating up.
Same violence will be next he thinks. Not overtly, but Michael's
asking Simone to cancel my party is more the sort he means. It is a
though Simone is feeling tossed between to poles and has to make a
decision to stick with one of them. Sometimes I get this feeling, but
it never lasts for long. A violent fantasy on the subway. A young
black guy starts smoking next to me. A shotgun blast puts an end to
his face - and the cigarette. Another new customer for my business
while stopping at TERC in Harvard Square. I begin to feel myself go
out of control with all the events of these days. Like being whirled
around by a tornado. A feeling of no place, no solid place to put my
feet. As though anything could happen. Yesterday I felt very good.
Thinking about my various relationships, and that something may
develop from them. Sunday afternoon with Judy. I gave in to the way
she wants to do her resume. We didn't wrestle on the bed. Only a short
chance to be a little perverse. I like to feel through a woman's pants
or dress to the edge of her underwear. Then to slip a finger just
under the edge of the underwear and run the finger all the way around
her leg. Very gently, to tickle her just a little. From this I can
tell how far I have to go. It's a very horny game for me. She let me
do it several times in the hallway. I try to be sensitive to the
places that cause the most sensation or excitement. Just now the
impression that this writing is being done to fill paper. The
typewriter is turned on and off. On and off, to decide if even to
write this. Turn it off and go do something else. Later. A thought
about writing more about last Saturday nights party. Or continue with

Saturday, March 10, 2007

Saturday, February 7, 1981

Depression again. I don't want to get up. Curl up. Suck my thumb.
Masturbate. Afraid of being seen by Dana. Not really. An old anxiety.
Something from a long time ago. Finally I'm up but still feeling in a
daze. Go to work. The post office and bank. Lots of money in the mail
today. I feel better about that. Some bills will get paid. I hang
around the office but don't get anything done. Judy calls. She will be
here at 3 for me to help with her new resume. And so we work on that.
She has lots of resistance to my suggestions about how to do it. I
take a break, make a sandwich, and she reads my most recent notes.
Those just before today. She makes the most positive analysis of
anyone who has read them. m ey cover the present, sometimes digress to
the past and how it influences the present, and ideas for the future,
she says. It has lots of interesting, creative metaphors. There are
lessons every now and then. INteresting insights about you and the
world. Some good generalizations. But the lessons and conclusions are
not preachy or propoganda. There is stream of conscious- ness and also
monitoring of events. It is something where you really want to turn
the next page to learn what happens next, she says. One also learns
little things about life. I am very pleased at what she says. If you
say anything more positive about it, I'll ask you to marry me, I say
to her. She thinks it would be of interest to people of all ages. But
she also suggests that her view may be clouded by knowing me. Why not
give it to someone you know to read, I suggest. At first I think maybe
it should be presented as a novel, fiction. But no, just as someone's
memoirs. She will do this for me. We go back to her resume. My heart
is not in it. I wrestle her to the bed. Bite her back, spank her,
grab her by the neck, growl like a bear, and then lie beside her. She
spanks and pounds me. We hold each other and talk. I like her a lot
and want her. I feel neurotic and fucked up when around you, she says.
Its hard for me to let go. But she likes holding me. It is very
pleasant. How far I get with her surprises me. It goes very easy. Its
much farther than ever before. Maybe next time we will do more, I say.
Time to go. She asks me why I push so hard to develop my
relationships. She does not mean this in a negative way, but that I
keep trying no matter what, and others don't. Perhaps I need it more.
It seems like a very necessary thing to be healthy. But I learned
something very important from this time with her. That's its possible
to develop my relationship more with someone by paying attention to
how comfortable things are. Other times I would have pushed on her and
not realized it until too late. This time I was aware and sensitive to
what was possible with her. She knows about her resistance. We talked
about her relationship with Steven and how she often wished someone
were there to say you are doing this and you are doing that. It can
be done when people live together and talk to each other and do things
together. And pay attention to each other. Dana, Simone, and I do
this. Just then she calls from LA and says how she misses us here. I
have missed her a lot this last week. I've never been so aware of how
important contact with women is as this last week. Most everything has
not gone well for me. Depressions, not getting up, tired, and being
something or other. It is the next day and its all forgotten. We had a
big party lad night. 60-70 people came. As many as 30+ at one time. A
beautiful redhead named Suzanne, who played the harp and did psychic
readings. She was very lively. Kissed me as she left. Deborah's old
roommate. She gets invited again' She was interested in FH for a
while. She read some of my notes. Peter was the first to arrive.
Mostly no, all men for the first 45 minutes. Suzanne was the first
woman. The next big surprise was Liebe. Absolutely gorgeous. I would
have tried to start something with her if she'd stayed longer. She
definitely gets invited again' I could not believe the difference from
when I last saw her. Then it was as a hippie/artist/farmer. Now she is
somewhat like a chic New York fashion model. And so stylishly
dressed. Dana's sister came with a woman, Kathy, who I would have
swooned all over, if only she hadn't kept retreating from me. She was
very beautiful and soft looking. I was having fantasies of getting a
normal job, dressing normally, and asking her to marry me and have
children. The idea just overwhelmed me. She reminds me of Joan Hale.
The first woman I fell in love with after leaving Cody. She worked in
the bookkeeping department of a Washington DC department store. I
became ga-ga over her. But she wanted someone more normal. Or at least
someone who looked more normal. For awhile I managed to change my
appearance to try and attract her. It was a very uncomfortable thing
to do. I wanted to do whatever was necessary to get her, but it was
all such an act, or so it felt to me. I was not comfortable doing it.
I failed anyway. I think of her sometimes. A woman like Kathy
hypnotizes me into that time. And Jeannette, another surprise. She and
Gina came dressed as runk pockers. Dressed to kill. Some almost didn't
recognize them. She is not living with Vinnie. A few days ago she
seemed quite satisfied. But she's like that. She'll end a situation of
that sort very quickly for one reason or another. She said to me, you
were right. But I'm not sure exactly what I she meant. Was it about
things changing back and forth, or did I say something about what I
thought would happen with her and Vinnie? A phone call from someone
who left their sweater here last night. No matter, but she came,
kissed me, was her usual affectionate self, stayed for awhile, and
left. For parts unknown, or to be a bad girl like her old days? Or to
abuse herself. I don't know what it is with her at times. Such a lot
of life energy, and so much of it goes to self-destructive behavior. I
really don't know what to do when I hear about these things from her.
She seems totally honest about it to me, but as though she is a
helpless victim of it, like it is being done outside her control. I
worry that she will get herself pregnant again. I have the urge to be
very protective of her but helpless myself. What can be done? Who but
her can do it? She is very good at resisting any efforts from me.
Sometimes I think maybe that pushes her the wrong way even more. She
reminds me of my sister. Complete self-confidence, l but in reality
like a baby at the controls of an airplane. Who wants to fly with
that? And why am I so attracted so much to someone like this? Could it
be so I am always the one who is in control at the times things are
bad for her? No, that's not quite it. So I can be superior with a
fallen woman? I danced, or tried with her, for a little while.
Certainly I envy the way she moves herself. A long phone conversation
with Linda. I tell her about the party and what happened with
different people. How I am feeling jealous of Dana and that he has
more success, by numbers, with women. He is more able to attract them
to him in the short term. I tell Linda about my feeling of confidence
about the women I like now. Her, Simone, Judy, Jeannette, Liebe. And
how everything could turn to shit in two days. At the moment I feel
positive about all of them. And they are positive about me. Its like
an emotional roller-coaster. But I don't want it to continue like
this. How to get things more stable? Certainly if we all lived
together. But now its a problem to get close to them when they just
knew of the others. Dana is making some sort of moves with Carol. Lois
seems to be responding to this by giving more of her attention to Joe.
Speculation. I find myself with an odd feeling. One moment talking
with people, seeming to have some connection. The next walking down to
the other side of the party and feeling like I'm in some sort of
twilight zone. Completely disconnected. Lots of people making long
drawn out thanks yous for inviting them to this lovely party. Big
smiles, grins. Something artificial about it. Fake. It makes me a bit
uncomfortable when people carry on at such lengths. I get the feeling
its not genuine, that its forced. Its better with those who just put
on their coats and say goodbye. Or like Jeannette, hug and kiss me,
and then say goodbye. S ten shows up and returns my notes. He wants
to read the second half. He says its very good. That its a good way
for me to come out with myself. His advice is to just write for
myself. To not let the idea of getting published influence what I
write in any way. I am pleased to hear this, but lately worry about
exactly this happening. I sit here and write this and say to myself -
there is a fight going on inside me to try to continue to write just
for myself, and to not let it be influenced by y fame and fortune
fantasies. Karyn comes just after Ron, about 1 in the morning. Its an
odd feeling with her. Would she stay if asked? Do I really want to
ask? It goes back and forth. She seems to linger. My imagination? But
this Kathy keeps coming back into my head. Sexual fantasies. Fucking
with her. She is several months pregnant. From behind. The suburbs. I
almost can't believe this. Its like a flood. Washing over me. Trying
to consciously think of other things. But it comes back. Out of my
control. Images of total passion. Always fucking. We are delerious.
But I recognize this. Anyone really out of my reach can generate these
fantasies. With Simone I don't have it. I have her. With Linda I have
the fantasies a little, but don't have her as much as Simone. After
yesterday with Judy I notice a drop in the intensity of my fantasies
about her. For awhile there was something with the redhead Suzanne,
but she seems totally fixated on things like dreams, fairy tales, and
psychic phenomenon. Maybe it is paranoia but it seems she avoids me.
More paranoia that she kissed Dana with more affection when she left?
It seemed a little stiffer and forced with me. Could I be jealous?
Over a gorgeous woman with fantastic red hair and a very nice body?
Dana asks to read the notes. So he gets the first two Sunday pages.
Its my birthday. 36. Two times 36 is 72. Is my life half over? I don't
want to face it. But everyone in your family lives to be much older,
you say. That means you really have more time. Don't worry about it
you say? Why a feeling of panic? Why do I always think time is running
out. It happened the same even 10 years ago. Ten years before that I
was waiting to be older so I could really do something with my life.
Here I am, and wishing it was twenty years ago, but knowing what I
know today. 50 why don't I know what I'll know in another 10 years?
Sometimes I think, yes, you know what you will know in ten years now.
The real problem is that you are not doing as much as you can imagine,
or as much as you want. So the answer to that is to just do all those
things in your imagination. Don't be so afraid. What, after all, do
you really have to *****. I can never remember, is it lose, or is it
loose? You know what I mean. It feels like I will break down and cry.
It comes a little ways out and then fades. This woman keeps jumping
back into my mind. Its like in the movies. Her face suddenly fills the
entire screen. She does not look directly at me. Always a little down,
or to one side. I tell her how beautiful she is. How attracted I am to
her. But she has another idea of what she wants in a man and withdraws
from me. At one point she moves around behind the kitchen table, which
is already pushed nearly against the wall. She seems to pick up
another cigarette each time I approach her. She is uncomfortable from
my attention. I imagine what sort of man she would like. There is one
like that here. He is reasonably well dressed. Very normal. Also very
dull and boring. But that's only to me. She would want someone with
those qualities. But probably not just this one. Dana asks me about
Ann and Elizabeth. He found them | both very seductive, especially
Elizabeth, who is the older. He thought that Ann, especially, was on
the prowl. Very sexual, like an animal. Last time I saw her she was
very subdued, squashed. Maybe she's trying to let some of this out.
She was certainly more lively this evening. Dana comments on my notes.
Interesting, he says. ! I found it interesting what you perceived
about the evening. Where did that comment about me trying to start
something with Carol come from? Out of nowhere. Or so he says! But I
notice just a touch of his not liking what's been written. He is not
explicit, but there is the impression that he doesn't want it to be
seen that way. An awkward moment with Carol. We are talking about
writing, creativity, thinking about writing for publication. Then on
to more personal things like what's happening with me and Simone and
Michael coming over for breakfast tomorrow. She wonders about the
problems. There are some parts to it. One is that Simone feels no
contradiction or problem being with me and Michael. She likes us both.
It makes sense. She feels good] But when she and Linda are with me it
is something else. If not, then she will manage ' to create something.
She knows enough about her past to suddenly discover enough wrong with
her in the present. She mentions how some people can make a decision
to not have this be a problem. To me this is nothing more than a
temporary fake, or resisting what is really going on, what the person
is really feeling. She says that

Friday, March 9, 2007

Tuesday, February 3, 1981

It seems like a depression. Difficult to get up. Slow to fall asleep.
I lie in bed resisting getting started. Thinking about all the work
that must be done. Spending the time on sexual fantasies. Reading
Nietzsche's Beyond Good And Evil. It seems to be about what's wrong
with philosophers of the past and what philosophy might be like, or
how it might approach things in the future. Nothing's happening.
Boring. Lotti asks me for some advice about her relationships last
night. Seems the men involved are always saying she wants to much from
them. She's smothering them. I tell her it is a common complaint from
men about women. Try some other relationships, spend some time with me
and the people I live with. I tell her she has too many expectations
of them and they can't stand the pressure. Judy called-me last night
to help her move some furniture. Then she wants to have lunch. I
suspect it is more like a bribe. She knows I like her and will do most
anything to get her attention. Its true. She only has to ask.
Unfortunately, she doesn't ask enough. But recently I have noticed
something very interesting about her behavior. The first thing is a
certain quality in her voice. It is much softer and more open. The
second thing is what she tells me about her other relationships.
Namely, the difficulties. Her doubts about continuing the way it is
with Steven. Almost like a panic about having to make a choice about
going somewhere with him if he leaves the area. And at times that she
wants to end it. Myself I feel a little like a piece of cheese being
used by a cat to bait a mouse Not that she does this consciously, but
I am certainly not above using one of my relationships as a lever to
improve or move another. But on the other hand, one good one makes me
more secure in trying to start another. She could be doing this also.
But it is so slow. I want to blame her for this. But I look at myself
and see all the mistakes. Each one has slowed or crippled progress. So
I help her move this chair. We get it from Michael's house. He won't
help her. He doesn't want to go into her house. Anybody but Steven
can help her pick it up - but not him! She is 3 very aggressive today.
Pulling my hat over my eyes. Keeping it away from me. Not watching how
she is driving. Talking loud and in spurts. She wants to fight. Its
good she doesn't have much experience being aggressive. Lots of
problems with the job as its ending in a few months. Doesn't know
what's going to happen to her relationship with Steven. He may just go
away. She really wants to fight with him to see if he can take it.
Will he run away? Will he turn tail and become a wimp? Will it freak
him out? Will he still want her after its over? Stay tuned. I suggest
rewriting her resume. I volunteer to help. But I've got to be off for
downtown and my luncheon date with Susan. She's interested in my notes
and me after a two hour conversation about FH and related things. It
doesn't go. She thinks I perceive things too differently from her. Oh
well. A bit of rejection. Some chocolate. A chocolate-chip cookie.
Suddenly everything is much better. Evening. More calls for next
Saturday's party. I have called many people. A lot who I would
normally pass over because of anxieties. A question. Do I manage to
call them because the anxiety is being held down, or because the
problem is being overcome? Is it being done from feeling or from
compulsion and/or an idea of what should be done? Am I guided by
desire or craziness? How do people manage to convince themselves
something is happening in their life when they live alone? Stuck
again. I think about writing something then see it as propaganda,
dogma, a personal party line, my own ideas, with no connection to the
facts. How to say this. Nonsense. Most of what I say. Its hard to
separate the real feeling from the past echo still reverberating
around inside me. Its mostly stuff that just spills out, like a
garbage can being tipped over. And the shit inside' Sometimes a
valuable thing gets thrown out. But who would notice or even want to
look? The Garbage Can School of Personal Development. Get rid of all
your garbage. Two consecutive weekends. $500.

Thursday, March 8, 2007

Sunday, February 1, 1981

Resistance. I make up little things to distract me. Read the
newspaper. Look for something to eat in the kitchen. Why am I
resisting calling people about the party next Saturday? I have an
interesting idea. Introduce some of the people I have known for many
years and say something about them. It could be quite amusing. But I
avoid making the calls that will bring people here. I begin to feel
the difficulty of communicating with people. Something. Its like many
times in the past. There is something I want to do, but have enormous
resistance to getting going. I anticipate how uncomfortable it will be
talking with some people, and that stops me from calling anyone. So
why not just call those that are easiest? I think ahead to how hard it
will be to have something to do with people at the party. One side of
me says to just stop calling people. Let those who I've called not
come, or get here and then go home. A crazy idea. Last night, just
before falling off to sleep, two voices were calling my name. They
were like elves with very strange voices. They kept calling my name. I
am also putting off doing certain work. REsisting lots of things that
would make things better for me. More money. Get a bigger place. But I
don't do the things needed to bring it about. Reading about the war in
El Salvador. Having science fiction like fantasies of having an alien
ally with enormous power capable of stopping all the fighting. I am
their earth representative. I threaten to make demon- strations of the
enormous power available, if they don't stop fighting. There I am in
the corridors of power negotiating with followers of the adversaries.
This is an old fantasy of mine. Stopping crime, wars, fights, trouble
anywhere with my all powerful friends from the stars. More fantasies
about Judy. She has promised to call me back twice this week and
didn't. Why not send her an its-all-over-between-us letter, and a copy
of my notes, and a message about how she can get future issues by
subscription. Something like that. It always comes out better in my
fantasies. Everything comes out better in my fantasies. But then in
those fantasies I do more to bring them about than I put into real
life. I am mostly fearless, always clever, ever able to do the next
best thing to cause something to happen in my favor. But then I never
have to worry about pesky other realities. Everybody does my orders
perfectly. I always know exactly what everyone should do. For example,
in my fantasy about Judy, she is quite taken with my letter, really
nothing more than an ingenious ploy to get her attention, and falls in
love with me. And wants to be with me more. And so it works out just
fine for me and her. But really she has all these other things pulling
at her and I'm not attractive enough to push them out of her life. So
I think of more clever ideas. This has happened in the past. Once
when she did not want to have anything to do with me, and was quite
disturbed about my wanting to sleep with her, I managed to reverse the
situation by sending her a poem something like this: Roses are red,
Violets are blue, Even if you won't, I still love you' And things have
improved since. She told me last week of having thought of sleeping
with me - mostly when I was in Europe. So maybe I should go away
again? I will call her right now and invite her to next week's party.

Wednesday, March 7, 2007

Thursday, January 29, 1981

Mush. Everything feels like mush today. Can't tell one thing from
another. Thinking about lots of things but can't remember much. Last
night with Dana and Simone. We sit on his bed and talk for an hour or
so. He and I were talking alone. About the tension between Simone and
I over Sundays events. It made me nervous and hungry the whole day.
An uneventful day teaching in Sturbridge. Boring bus ride there.
Boring bus ride back. Simone is at Donna's for her dream group.
Michael has decided to join. She will not say what her plans for the
evening are. Who will she stay with? I sense a bit of getting even in
her voice. Anyway, remoteness. Her last day at work. A visit to the
doctor about vaginal bleeding. Its stopped. At first she doesn't want
to talk about something I ask her, I've got to get back to the group,
she says. Then she starts about the visit to the doctor and her
therapist and goes on at some length. Maybe I will try to make another
date for tonite. Call Judy but no answer. The dream group was talking
about me when I called. Last night was two or more hours with Simone.
She also notices the tension between us. She still wants it her way.
Tells me how she is better than Linda, has been more reliable, how
fucked up she was to have had an emotional breakdown last spring.
Tells me the whole story of how she fell in love with me. It goes back
and forth. Fighting and loving. Talking and arguing. A one point she
shouts at me, Michael is a better lover' But none of these things seem
to bother me like they did on Sunday. I don't feel caught up, wrapped
in knots. I a only tell her that I can't agree to any sort of
limitations on my relationship with Linda, or anyone else. She cries a
lot. I comfort her. In the beginning we were both horny. She was very
dry. She noticed how closed she felt. It got better. We were fucking
but she was not wet at all. Saturday, January 31, 1981 I don't want to
leave you, but I have to, says Simone one tear filled night. Tears l
and thoughts of leaving. The story of this week. And catastrophe.
Simone fainted getting out of her car while going to the dentist.
Blood pressure much too low, and still constipated. She wants me to
talk to her dentist. She is half an hour late meeting Ellen and me in
Harvard Square. We get worried. I imagine she may have fainted again
and decide to go ask the police if such an incident has been reported.
But, no, I meet her at the bank entrance. Later that night she is an
hour late to her house for a party. Again I, and Dana, am worried.
Later, five of us are lying on her bed. Me, Simone, Dana, Lois, and
Carol. Some idle conversation leads to me saying something about her
health. That I also have second thoughts about living with her. Do I
want to be a nursemaid to someone who will be dead of multiple causes
by age 35. She gets extremely offended. Enraged, she accuses me of
always criticizing her. Jumps up and goes to run downstairs. Then,
another surprise from Dana. He say the same, telling her that fainting
on the street and being late is not good for her or us. I feel better
it is out. We talk about it and she comes to lie beside me once more.
All this was yesterday. I have to stop and think to write this. It
doesn't pour out of me anymore. I sit here thinking over the day, what
has happened, how I felt, and its all a jumble. A sense of panic today
about ever being able to make anything of my life other than a series
of events that might one day come to be seen as historically
interesting. Perhaps to someone reading about me, or someone trying to
write about me. The great pretender. Fantasies about being a great
writer. I can't write in a month what some do in a day. It preoccupies
me the greater part of some days. Last night reading about someone
else's life, a good writer, one who tells a good, well organized
story. But it is about trying to make some sense of all the things he
has done in his life, and the people he identifies with. How so many
of them decided not to have children, or only one or two. He has one
and thinks about the one he might have had but for an abortion. I have
had this twice. But what is this feeling I have about what he says.
That his life was different from most of the people around him, but my
impression is that he has the same regrets and sadness, but only
because he didn't manage to change the rest of the world a little
more. Giving up his own life at times to save the rest of the world.
My attitude has been the for much of my life, when thinking about it.
Trying to do some good, and one disaster and catastrophe after another
creeps up and grabs me. They start out like little things. Not so
important that it has to get in the way of the good deeds I'm doing.
But it gets bigger with time. Once started it has never gone away.
Then it starts to influence the important work. Time after time.
Always these personal things do it. Why isn't it possible to create a
more stable personal situation? I call Linda in NYC about visiting
this weekend. She is very distant and under the surface quite
disappointed in me. You should have called me earlier in the week, she
says. Someone else is coming to visit me. And so my relationship with
her takes a turn for the worse. All from not making an earlier phone
call. I call Judy, but she is now more distant. Doesn't think I'll be
interested in a party with people from her work place. I'll call you
back, she says. But I don't feel its true. But things are much better
with Simone. In spite of half the people at last nights party saying
she should leave me. Some odd behavior by people there last night. A
strange friend of George Ferrar's didn't want to leave at three this
morning. Three of the men who were just leaving escorted him away. He
wouldn't go when Simone asked him. George was a bit fixated, and maybe
jealous about the short blurb written about me in the latest issue of
the Whole Earth Times. He mentioned it some three times that evening.
I have just wondered if the mood was from what Simone has been telling
everyone about the situation of last Sunday. Dana was in a pickle. He
wanted to go home with Ann. She was a bit cool to the idea, but he
kept trying. Finally Lois came around and stuck herself between the
two of them. It seemed as though he was guarding Dana. If I can't
have you tonight, then nobody gets you' This would effectively put an
end to Dana trying to get Ann, and at the same time lead him to resent
Lois. She talked to me for some time, left for the bathroom, and never
returned. I have some difficulty engaging in natural conversation with
her. She seems always on the defensive. I spoke about how it seems
others are able to deceive her about their real intentions, but not
me. Its as though she doesn't want to see anything from me as being
direct and straightforward. She seems quite content to indulge her
romantic fantasies with Dana, and know nothing about what's really
going on with him, or not to face any of these things. It is doubtful
she will ever talk with him about her guard duty of last night. But
I'm not going to be able to fool her, no siree. Do I sense a little
bit of resentment in my words at not being able to win her over?
Surely not from me' She needs someone not so adventuresome, who
doesn't try too much. But Dana is getting to be less and less that
sort of person. He talks more and more openly about himself. From time
to time he inserts some new piece of information in a fairly uniform
type of conversation that we have. Lately a lot of talk about sex and
how he wants to try more things. He met Kathy for the first time
yesterday. I liked her look, he says. She may be looking for someone
new shortly. An interesting observation about Simone from m m the last
week. It has to do with her behavior with me when we are in bed. She
always likes to suck on my prick. Not once so far this week. She
kissed me there this afternoon after we fucked. But that's it. Such a
thing hasn't happened before. Its because I'm still upset with you,
she says. She has also spent more days with Michael this week than
normal. She can't get over it. Linda is like some disembodied person
for her. I heard the story about that woman, as Carol described her
this after noon. Simone and Linda have said the same thing about
leaving me. I don't want to but I have to. Her (Simone) therapist
asks her why she has to make a decision now. Why is everything so
black and white. Linda at least treats Simone as a person with same
dimensions. She admits that its possible for her to have a real loving
relationship with me. Not so with Simone. She wants to see everything
about it as a bad joke or trick on her. All this while Michael and I
are in her car and she talks about the two men she loves' But it is
not possible for me to have such a situation. But maybe I get
resentful again. Tell me, dear reader, do you notice this also? By the
way, what interesting things have you done for yourself today? Or have
you only had thoughts of such things? Only fantasies? Do you want to
live with a group of people, to be free of jealousy, free of fear,
free of being rejected, fear of not being loved? What are you doing
about it? Are you the sort of person that other people want to be
with? Do you make their life interesting and satisfying? Why not? What
crazy things did you do today that caused someone to run away?
Selfish? Asked for more than you can give? Well, I'd want to get away
from you to. Forget to call and say hello? Well, I wouldn't want to
see you either. Pushed somebody too hard to accept more than they are
able? Well, I'd think you were an asshole too.

Tuesday, March 6, 2007

Wednesday, January 28, 1981

Feelin fragile - the opposite of feelin groovy. I have been nervous
much of the day. There is still something in the air with me and
Simone. We talk about something that has happened and she thinks some
sort of resolution or solution has come from this. But the problem
with Linda is still there. Its as though she is hoping I will change
somehow. That the pressure and threats of leaving will bring me
around. Stu has asked her to marry him again. He won't see her again
if she continues to live with me. I've said I don't need someone who
would leave me to be with him. It seems like a little joke. I watch
the clock. Its not plugged in but the second hand seems to jump ahead.
Time being thrown away, wasted. Last night a two hour, 11:30 to
1:30am, conversation with Susan Parker. Someone who knows Joe. We
talked about couple relationships and FH. I asked her about coming
over with a bag of potato chips. Fine, she said, if you had asked an
hour ago. She must be at work by 7 or so. But I spoke with her this
evening and we have a date for next Tuesday, February 3. She said how
about tomorrow, but I'll be out of town. A sinking feeling when she
says she can't see me till then. I am churning and spinning my
emotional wheels again. I am jealous of Joe who was at her house, for
a meeting. Nietzsche: The consequences of our actions take hold of us,
quite indifferent to our claim that meanwhile we have improved. The
results of our behavior ruin our lives, and doesn't care about our
saying that we have grown a lot. what faces he might be making at
today's human potential movement. And when will I realize my
potential? When will I be more positive about myself and when will my
self be more I? That Nietzsche writes so good. So many interesting
ideas, such good paragraphs. And I struggle to describe my own
condition. Incredibly hungry today. Again. What can I point to today
as a gain, again? When was the last time?

Monday, March 5, 2007

Tuesday, January 27, 1982

More arguing in bed with Simone last night. The same old stuff. Who's
ahead of who. Who did what, when, and where, to whom. It goes on and
on. What is it about? I can never remember. Nothing of importance.
But I had to do something to end the rather nasty circle of blame and
counter-blame we were in. At first I just told her to go home, get out
of here. Then I pushed her a little. She resisted, not wanting to
really go. Then I just decide to turn my back and be quiet. To stop
fighting with her and say nothing. She goes on. I tell her to shutup
and go to sleep. Then the whole mood changes. She starts to cry and
tell me how love is more important to her than what goes on now. I
surrender also, turn to hold her and talk. She says that wanting to be
loved, and her fear of rejection has created a lot of difficulties for
her. And there was more, but the mood was totally different. We were
not struggling against each other. The voice and words were softer and
more genuine. It was much better than lying there, on our backs,
staring at the ceiling, feeling tense, hitting back at each other with
past pasties, accusations, meanness, and all the other things that
people say to the other when they hate, and want to come out ahead,
and feel superior, and self-righteous. Its still in me. Today, more
fights inside my head. It carries me away. A life filled with
imaginary fights, and imaginary victories, and tension, and no real
resolution. I get knocked off my feet so easily by these past events.
Not enough satisfaction now? Not enough security now? I give in to
this mood and feel like crying. A lump in my throat, and a dam at my
eyes stops it. Suddenly I am thinking about Otto and the time he was
on TV with Eva and the moderator bit her finger. I saw it in Der
Speigel about two and one-half years ago. Rudiger and Virginia were
staying with me at Hampshire Place. He was very sick and Virginia and
I did all the work. I am a bit paralized at the moment. So much work
to do, and so many projects I want to get going. I've just talked with
Simone on the phone. Something is still between us. I could feel l it
jump up from time to time as we spoke. A little thing would set me
off or some thing I say upsets her. It gets a little tense. Mostly we
drop it. There is a new sort of defensiveness about her attitude
toward me. A little cooler. A little more matter of fact. A little
more definite. A little sharper. A feeling that she is putting a
subtle form of distance between us. She still sees it as my having
hurt her. With no indication of her understanding that it was just
something that I wanted. It is only a game, a trick, played on her.
It was not something real. We didn't really want to do what we did.
It was only to get at her. I point out how Michael is showing more
interest in her. That she is threatening to leave me before I have a
chance to reject her. She hasn't done that for some time. Her stern
voice warns me of other consequences if I continue on the same track.
You don't understand yet, do you, she says. But it is perfectly clear.
She doesn't want to have it any other way. She wants things arranged
so it won't happen again. At just this moment I feel a shifting in my
attitude toward her. One of not really caring what she thinks. A
willingness to take my chances. A strange thing. At the moment it
doesn't matter if she stays or goes away. A new feeling about her. A
small, insecure, petty, nasty, conniving baby. Willing to throw away
anything to avoid those feelings. I will be brutal and give her
another chance to chuck it! Then it is a question of should I plan
something or just let it happen? But not I start to soften a bit. Why
do it anyway? I just don't want to live like this, to have to think
every moment about who might be bothered by what I do. Then I imagine
we are living together, and she doesn't want Linda there. A plot to
find another place, with Linda, and then move. They would not know
anything till the day it was to happen. People are so easy to deceive.
Only by revealing everything can one avoid being deceived. Last night
she told me the story of Renee and Gary. They are or have been, under
the impression that I am related to the Gardners of the Isabella
Stewart Gardner Museum. I have told them about the private quarters in
the Museum that are available to members of the family. Also, that
someday Simone and I would go there with them. A few days ago they
went looking for the private quarters and asked several people there
about me. Nobody knew anything. The workers there said the person who
said these things must be psychotic. Renee came to Simone yesterday
with some very bad news. It was that I had deceived her about my
relationship to the Museum. She told Renee the truth today. Renee was
pissed and said it made her look like a fool. She was a fool. Its so
easy. I noticed a flushed, hot feeling in my face. I get it when
something makes me mad and then I hold back. Its like holding down
something that wants to explode. My hands are quite cold in
comparison. Sunday evening I was having fearful fantasies about
Simone. That she would attack me. It would happen very suddenly. I
kept looking over my shoulder for her. One thing that has not really
come out in the open, but something she keeps hinting at, and never
saying directly. Namely, she doesn't want IT to happen again. She has
not asked me straight out. Should I be brutal and say I won't stop it
from happening again, or lie and say, or waffle, about its happening
again? I'm sure the possibility will present itself again. What should
I do? See if its ok to enjoy myself? I don't know how to say this. Its
getting to be like a well thought out plan that will go awry on the
first step. No, even thinking of the plan is the first wrong step.
Very strange how my face is so hot. How do I tell the difference from
fantasies that arise naturally, spontaneously, and those that I
willfully create? The latter are not nearly so interesting as the
former. Reading about John O'Hara yesterday. If I become a famous and
rich writer will I also gets lots of sex? I certainly find it pushing
me on, trying to write better. But this fantasy is different from
others about being famous and getting lots of women. Its more
realistic. Or so it seems to me. How so, the reader asks. I don't know
exactly, but probably women would get fixated on me as a character,
and not because of something like money. Does that make sense? How do
ideas like this get into people in the first place?

Sunday, March 4, 2007

Monday, January 26, 1981

No, its not really behind me. A day of arguing inside my head. Walking
along, head down, feet scraping, having fights with Simone, countering
every argument she tries against me. Catching myself wrapped up in it.
Cursing at myself for falling into this old pattern. When, I ask, will
it be possible to just live and enjoy myself. And not have to fight
against everything. She blackmails me and threatens to go to another
man. What is the clever argument she uses? She threatens to leave me
before I get a chance to leave her. I am inclined to say go ahead. But
she can leave any time she wants. Nothing holds her back but herself.

Saturday, March 3, 2007

The Cambridge Chronicles - Sunday, January 25, 1981

Its getting hard to write again. The other day I was thinking, Hey,
what if I become a famous writer, and someone is reading this in the
far future? What would I say to such a person? You stupid shit' Forget
it and go do something. But I have these what-if,
in-the-future-dreams, often. Why? Always hoping something I want will
con. about. Today I was thinking how everything seems to he going
well. My relationships are holding together. It looks like more people
will be living here. Linda wants to live here if she decides to leave
art school. But its not solid. Everyone is still subject to being
nudged by too much feeling and going off by themselves. Only Simone
seems determined enough about what she wants to put up with present
and probable future difficulties. Can I say my believing there will be
future difficulties cause them to be created? So I get excited about
the present and fail to see the situation as it really is, and then
expect the worst of the future. Simone has just read these notes. She
freaks out at the possibility of Linda living with us. She wants to
"confront that asshole about hanging up the telephone on me". It is
only her jealousy. She becomes loud and vicious. Incredible tension.
She is afraid of being abandoned, rejected. She has no distance to the
feeling. She lets it eat her alive. Its gets a little calmer. Dana
likes the idea that she thinks enough of us to want to live with us.
He thinks it quite complimentary. But I have a very nervous feeling.
She continues to be confrontational. Accuses me of being incapable of
having an intimate couple relationship. I remind her of others who
reject her and how it is related to smothering. By her. My face feels
very warm. My hands are quite cold. Shaking a little bit all over.
Feeling hyper. I hide the scissors in my room. She has picked up
weapons and thrown things at me before. Dana says he wants to leave
and go to the movie. Tell me about it later, he says. We convince him
to stay. He is a part of this. I play a joke about going to the movies
with Dana. Leaving Simone here alone with Linda. She says I am afraid
to go and leave her with Linda. I go to my room and write this. She
can call me if she wants. It seems Linda is here. I continue to type.
She can get me if necessary. It seems I get a little more nervous.
Didn't I say that already? But now I wonder what's going on in there?
I hear just a little bit of someone talking. How can I keep my mind on
another topic? Can't. Do I hear them talking or not? Now I hear
something. Not clear. But something. Everything is washed away. Not a
thing else comes up for me. I leave the two combatants to battle it
out. What if this happens every time someone new moves in with us? How
would it go with Judy Levy? Jeannette Tremblay? Michael Jaro? Simone
always asks me what it would be like if Michael moved in. Wouldn't you
feel jealous, she asks. Yes, but it wouldn't be so bad that I would
start thinking of reasons why not to or why he should leave. What is
this warm feeling in my face? Its like a constant feeling of being
embarrassed. But not really. Its also fear. I can hear more talking.
It seems to be a bit louder. I open the door and listen. Linda is
getting the better of the situation. She understands there may be
problems, but she hasn't decided to move in, its only speculation. We
will have to wait and see, she says. Should I decide to move in, then
I'll have to spend time to get to know you better, she says. But now I
want to spend what little time left today with Richard. I'd like to
spend some time just with you Simone, but not now. Another time. She
comes to me in my room. I tell her she won this one. The score is now
tied one to one. She has forgotten about the last interaction she had
with Simone. She is very sassy with me. I see another, more assertive,
self-knowledgeable, side of her. She wants to fuck and takes my
clothers off. We are under the covers. Simone enters, I'll see you
later this evening, she says, and slams the door. It amuses me. Linda
thinks it rude. In the beginning its difficult to get an erection.
The tension from the situation is still in me. We talk while fucking.
Then I come into her from behind. It is one of the best times we have
had together. It seems as though I have gotten over a hurdle and
something, once bound up inside me, has come unstuck. Linda says she
has learned a lot from her relationship with me. Today I learned a lot
about her. But she jumps up right away and is gone. She takes same of
my FH notes to read. I will go to visit her next weekend. Simone will
be on her way to California.

On the one hand I imagine myself orchestrating the whole situation.
That I am in command, and know exactly what to do next. But mostly
things are just developing. I have an idea about what things might be
like, then make little experiments to see if it can be created. But
the situation could reverse very rapidly. Its happened to me before.
Sometimes I imagine that, like Otto, I've found my Claudia, Teresa,
and Eva. But there isn't so much difference between me and them, as
there is between Otto and the others. Mostly it is my imagination that
I'm like him or capable of what he's done. On the other hand things
have not fallen apart. Simone probably will survive this incident.
Dana tells me her interrupting was from trying to figure out what sort
of "Richard Gardner trick" I'd try at a time like this. She almost
pulled it off but the door slaming gave her away. I was only amused.
Now she will probably think of trying something like this. Maybe I
will come over and she will be in bed with another man. Like a poker
game. But we learn a lot of important things with every new hand we
play. She could make a date with me and then cancel at the last
moment. Or maybe start introducing me to a lot of her other men
friends. Or change her behavior so Michael is more comfortable and
wants to spend more time with her. Maybe go away on that vacation he
suggested to her just recently. Or maybe just make lots more dates
with other men. The next chapter should be exciting. Don't you think
so? In the beginning it was a heated argument with lots of emotions
coming out. In time it settled down. The world did not end. We have
experienced a new threshhold of ourselves, and learned that it is not
so bad. I may have to face this situation again, but once done it
really feels behind me.

Thursday, March 1, 2007

Thursday, January 22, 1981

Last night a surprise from Dana. He suggests we have an SD evening. He
has been reading my notes from when I was first on FH. It seems he has
been doing that every time I see him, for the last 3 days. At one time
he told Simone they were boring. She tells me he enjoys talking
together but it is more comfortable when she is there. We spoke for
some time about being in love, just the two of us. Me and Dana. It was
the most real conversation I have ever had with just him. Mostly its
about the weather, furniture, this or that trivial thing. He seems
quite interested in the SD. That it is a very powerful thing for
discovering ones weaknesses and strengths. I tell him how a weakness
disappears the moment you show it. How difficult it is to be open to
people, to love them. I can't recapture the mood. This is a completely
intellectual description of it. Why do I write? This is something I
asked myself two days ago. For one, to become a better write, second,
to get another picture of myself. Third is something like research. To
discover some new ideas and pictures of life. But also to solve some
practical problems in life. Like how to write every day about what's
going on. How to be more steady in the things I do. How to enjoy what
I do. Writing has become very enjoyable these last few days. Its a
real thrill to be able to pour this stuff out in some way. Not that it
satisfies me, but when I think about the times past when trying to
keep a diary and how naive the writing was ... Maybe I will try to dig
some of that up. I also have the idea to put some other things, like
pictures, poems, drawings, in the book about me - if it ever comes to
that. Otto's green lady. Maybe in color. Some of the drawings by Regi.
Donald Faugno has just called from Sturbridge. I did not go today
because of not feeling well and having so much work to do. It made me
a little nervous. The job interview yesterday was interesting, but not
enough to give up more than 40 hours a week for $25,000 a year. The
interviewer suggested some other frindge benefits but I don't think
so. In any case, I will go visit the school tomorrow and have a closer
look at things. A teaching job still interests me, and there are other
possibilities. My body starts to fail me in some more little ways. I
think again about doing some exercise. It is like everything else, a
lot of momentum to just keep doing the things I am doing now. Its so
difficult to just make a phone call to get it started. So I have just
called about where to get mats for exercising on. They may be too
expensive for now. Today I wiI1 look for some smaller and cheaper
versions. Temporary. Also, to get a tape recorder for playing music.
And some Canned Heat music. I found that to have the best tempo. I am
having trouble getting to the events of last night. Jealousy. To put
it in a word. It started with a phone call from Linda. She was on the
other line. I could tell right away from her voice that something was
up. She switched back to the other line and seemed to drag it out.
Dana noticed it also. Then I switched back to Linda. Until that time
she was not feeling well and was going to just stay here. m en she
decided to go stay with Michael, as she had originally planned.
Before leaving she jokingly said maybe the four of us should do
something together. Me, her, Michael, and Linda. Have dinner, and then
later sleep together. She suggested that Linda would be just perfect
for Michael because they have a similar "problem". I begin to feel
jealous. But very mild. It comes and goes in waves. One moment
desperation. The next its ok. Abandonment. A sinking feeling. Out of
control. She starts to get a distant edge to her voice and behavior.
Her contact with me becomes stiffer. Less eye contact. Even a goodbye
kiss is more formal. I go to the office. She - calls me. Something is
up. She has to confront me about the telephone incident. Points out to
me that I kept her waiting once when she called long distance. And
another thing that escapes me now. The feeling is back. I try some
tricks to keep her on the phone and away from Michael. He doesn't want
to speak to me. It reminds me of the tricks with Regi on FH. Whenever
she slept with another man I would try all sorts of things to disrupt
it or get the attention of everyone, or just do most anything to fight
off the feelings of panic and tension. Sometimes I would attack them
with a pillow, try to force myself between them. All sorts of
confusion and time consuming ploys. Anything to drag out the moment
she would be totally involved with "him". Here its a little different.
Everyone tries to arrange the situation so those feelings don't come
up. Its called an open relationship. But in fact it is closed to the
sort of feelings that are created by the situation. What one doesn't
know won't make you jealous. Michael seems to be putting himself more
into the Competition for her. He wants to arrange more time with her.
I will have to work harder. She says he knows exactly what to do to
get more of her. I think she uses the ambiguous situation of her
moving in with me as a means to get him to come after her. She still
has her doubts about me. Even while saying that I am afraid to get
close to her. She still believes it is necessary to decide absolutely
on one of us. That once married she will suddenly not have the same
feelings about the other. And of course I am still not convinced of
her proclamations of undying love for me. She has doubts, every day,
just like me. The only problem is her idea that she must decide on one
of us eventually. She was having a difficult time on the phone last
night. My tricks were getting to her. I noticed that the way she tried
to get distance from me had more than one quality. One thing would
fail as I chip away at her, and so she tries a different tack. But
still some subtle difference that is difficult to put in words. A
definite feeling. The feeling was that this person is trying to avoid
contact with me, I know it. It was an unmistakable sensation, but done
in several different ways. Its so IMPOSSIBLE to describe this' Very
Frustrating. To be able to do this would be like solving an
existential puzzle, a life paradox. It eludes me. A mirage. I look in
the wrong place? Where to look? I sit here pondering this like a
mathematics puzzle. But it holds my attention quite unlike any math
problem I've ever done. Am I the mirage? Is she the mirage? Not the
person, but rather the feelings evoked. Maybe the place to look is
reality. How trite. But I think if there really were more people and
we had a group living situation then But I imagine that everyone
will really be dedicated to doing something about their difficulties.
From experience I know this isn't so. Its true of me. I avoid these
difficulties by being stubborn, and show that stubborness is one of my
difficulties. Most people will make excuses to avoid their feelings.
Even Simone, who is one of the best people I have found here, will do
this when it comes to jealousy. Others insist they are not comfortable
and so it your fault, and leave. m They can't stand the way they feel.
that's not what I want to do at this point in my life." But why do I
suddenly get so tense and angry when someone says this? Its the same
for me. I don't want to confront my- self now either. When I get so
mad at someone being closed up. NO. Forget that. What do I mean? I
see someone being really stupid, saying something like its not for me
now. Suddenly, without any conscious effort, I get enraged. They don't
want to have any contact with me. I can't stand this. On the surface
they may be perfectly calm. The explanation may be perfectly calm. But
I am boiling. It almost overwhelms me. I stay calm. Try to think of a
clever reply. But mostly being so mad jumbles everything around and I
can't make any sense. I take it as a personal rejection. I don't
understand on an emotional level that it is someone else's problem. It
has nothing to do with me. I think of the many times people have had
this sort of reaction to me. Of course it felt like I was being
personally rejected. They were rejecting me, in a sense. But sometimes
I am so crazy, or push to hard, that it is the most sensible thing to
do. This is always so uncomfortable. I have a warm feeling in my
face. Almost like feeling a bit ashamed of myself. It often happens
when I think of times my behavior turned people off to me. It is
usually obvious afterward what I did wrong. How I shouldn't have said
this, or how I pushed to hard on something. How to avoid this
rejection inducing behavior? It obviously needs to be avoided at the
moment it happens. A stupidly obvious statement. Well, it is almost
2pm and I am feeling quite satisfied about the amount I have written.
Like a communist quota system. A silly thing, I suppose, but not bad
when I think about how blocked the last week has been. The second hand
on the clock sweeps around and seems to go faster, then slower. But it
seems really to be getting slower. Maybe it is just me. The body is
not working right the last few weeks. Yesterday I had the impression
of cancer. Not in one place, but pervasive. Something feels wrong.
Not enough exercise. Not enough regularity. Not enough of the right
foods. I feel the need to push myself but not to the point where life
is uncomfortable. I have done that too many times in the past. Try to
push in a direction where things are enjoyable. Finished.

Click HERE to view the Premium Art Deadlines List.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Subscribe to Posts [Atom]