The Cambridge Chronicles

A terrible sensation while falling asleep the other night. It was like a warm, soft, wave. A panic that spread over me. I had the sensation of something disastrous happening inside my body. As though I were about to die. Literally as though my lights/life were about to go out. This feeling has come over me a number of times. Not often, but I recognize it. I feel to much panic to realize this at the moment it happens. It passes quickly. I am afraid for some amount of time after this. I don't know exactly what it relates to. But there were a lot of sensations and feelings streaming through my body. I was in bed by myself for the third night in a row. Simone was here with Ken. He was pretending to be asleep. Simone came in to ask me about this. It seemed obvious to me that things were getting to be too much for him. He has started having odd little behaviors as he develops more feeling for her. He is having little difficulties keeping his agreements. He was unable to attend last night's open house, but called twice, then again early this morning.

It seems Simone has just spoken to Ken again. She could not tell him about the infection she has. It may have come from him. He does not use underwear. I have told Simone about having the men she fucks with wash both before and after. She's talking to him now but has difficulty getting him to take the problem seriously. It is clearly hard for her. The nervous laughter gives her away. Now a comment about doing something to me. If you're jealous of him, then deal with him, she says. He is trying to get away from any responsibility. He has done a number of things recently to try and make me jealous. There was a note the other day about how he 'did not fuck the dog.' A little fantasy about him, Simone, Linda, and me. Ken and Simone are in her bedroom. Linda is with me. Linda and I take our clothes off and go to the door of Simone's room with squirt guns. We knock. Open up, I shout. Its the relationship terrorists. We burst in and start squirting them in the crotch. Then we all jump into bed together. The fantasy goes to one of everyone switching around to be next to someone different.

An idea today about another style of writing. It was to write as though this was a novel. To make myself just another character. I was thinking about how to write what happened with Nancie yesterday.

They were taking her to Central Square. All three in the car. Headed down Prospect Street. They would stop at Bread & Circus and walk to the subway, return and do some shopping.

Why don't you talk about the problem between the two of you right now, Simone suggested.

Richard, finding himself in an awkward position, and a little nervous, about the sudden broaching of the subject, began. It had been in the air for a week or more. Nancie was Simone's best friend. Richard was living with Simone. So how does one introduce a subject that's been festering between two people who are close to a third. Someone who is literally in the middle. Who passes communication between two people.

I have lost it. The idea was for me to sit somewhere above the scene and try to look down on the action. To see all the parties with the same weight or objectivity. But another conversation with Simone, and the underwear problem came up. She first had the burning on Thursday night. The night before she was with Jeff. Sometimes he does not wear underwear. He doesn't wear underwear so that he can feel his prick more. The infection may have come with him. I find people do not take these things very seriously here. On FH everyone really understands the importance of sexual hygiene. I once told on Herbert Stumpfl. He was flirting with some of the young girls in the guest group. He was kissing. That was a no-no. I went to Otmar and told him about it. Herbert was in big trouble the next few days. Another time I told Renate about Suzanne, who was not wearing underwear. Simone tells me to finish with the underwear thing. Why don't you talk about Michael's underwear collection from different countries, she proposes. He was here the other day and looking through my drawers for some of his lost foreign underwear. It seems he is paranoid about my possibly stealing some of his. Kathy and Simone talked about Dave Ring's underwear today. He has furry, pink, I love you, and other weird undies. Otherwise he was very straight, a devout Buddhist. What about your mother's underwear, I ask. It seems she buys the cheap ones that always fall apart or have holes in them. She buys funny, weird kinds for Simone. Carol has just come in to tell us one of her funny underwear stories. She once put a pair of bikini, shear, red, nylon undies. She photographed him with his hard shaft showing through. I once wore a pair of Simone's. Her grandmother wore very large ones that resembled shorts. Carol likes to wear them with holes over the pubic hair. Then it rubs and stimulates her. But it sometimes irritates her. Simone likes to get fucked by a man wearing jockey underwear, with the penis through the hole in the front. Joe calls with an underwear story. He's coming home from work on his motorcycle. It was pouring rain. He had to piss. He went in his pants as it didn't make much difference. Now Simone has one about pissing in her pants. She would get really stoned while in college. She was hitchhiking from Freedonia to New Haven. She got a ride from someone, had to go and couldn't hold it back. She went all over the guys car seat. Simone was always very embarrassed to tell someone she had to go. She was in a store once, during her youth, had to go, and let it dribble down her leg. Then there is the story about how I rent Simone's bras to Joe. Its only a joke really, but Joe and I always have a lot of fun with it. Carol asks Simone and I to lie on top of her. I get on first and Simone on top of me. She calls us a cookie with creme in the middle. She likes the weight on her. Joe has just arrived with the Boston Globe.