The Cambridge Chronicles

I am in the bathroom. Pissing. Glancing to one side I notice someone in the mirror. Not just in the mirror, but reflected from still another mirror. For a moment, the identity is unknown. But its only me. From another angle. Almost from behind. Unrecognizable. Its me, but I don't really know it. I don't really know me. Or some of the time, I don't know me. I try to move in an predictable fashion to see different parts of my body. The two mirrors make it confusing. Sometimes I see myself as a doubly reflected person. Someone reflected off the mirror of my past experiences, and reflected off myself, as a mirror for others. But never seeing just myself, or others, without some reflection, or more precisely, but the word escapes me. What do I mean? What mirror am I looking into for the answer to this question? The word was in my mind for just a moment. A small movement made it disappear. And now I struggle, moving the mirrors around inside consciousness, attempting to bring it back into view. Who is deciding what word will be used? I wonder if the word will come from my idea of writing the right thing. Is it for my readers? Is it for my idea of who my readers are? Is it for my idea of myself? Is it for me? Simone tells me of reading Anais Nin's last book. Something about her writing taking her over. Was she nothing but her writing? Was her writing all there was of her? I don't remember exactly how it came out. But she was confronted with the problem of living her life, or living her writing. It became such a big thing for her. It seems that her life was nothing but writing-related things at times. At least she seemed to be expressing this. I read a little about a talk she gave to benefit a feminist organization in Cambridge. It happened at the Old Cambridge Baptist Church. What a time they gave her. The radicals wanted her to come completely over to her side, against men, it seemed. She argued for them to free themselves first from the idea of being on a side and against anyone. Or so it seems to me. I could agree with that.

An hour long talk with Jonathan last night. Simone's cousin. After a short description of the difficulties with Simons, he relates a similar story about himself and Myrna. They talked about and agreed to the idea of having an open relationship at the beginning. But now there is a possibility for him to have something like this. She is against it. Doesn't want it. What will he do? I give him some ideas. But its a little more than he can do. He will probably just see how things go rather than taking an active position. He has to resist his impulses to have anything to with this other woman. He's afraid of Myrna rejecting him. The other woman is not a sure thing. But he doesn't want the part of Myrna that won't let him have his freedom. He could end up getting the same thing from this new woman. His last girlfriend left him because he wanted to have other relationships. I suggest he think about how he decides on who to have a relationship with.

I have been meaning to write about this party, at Linda's, two weeks ago yesterday. It was different from those we have here. It also involved the three men who live in the apartment downstairs. Mark, Brice, and David. I found most of the people there to be very stiff and easily offended. A lot of dancing with sexual messages, but no real feeling. Performance. Judy found it very strange. She left early. Linda really let go of herself. Flirting with every hairy chest there. She was most attracted to a Mr Pink Shirt. The savage, as Lotti called him. This after observing them involved in some sort of fertility rite dance. Later we catch them in a bedroom fondling. She later told me about taking him out on the porch and him taking his pants down. Amazing, considering that a blizzard was going on at the time. All this makes me a bit jealous. I have to ask her about our date after the party. She reassures me. At 3am most people have gone. Those still standing are a bit drunk and/or in stupors. Two people are talking about numbers. Some sort of numerology stuff. Its impossible to calculate at this time, one tells the other. What floor am I on anyway? Two very attractive female assholes though me aggressive on my telling them how attracted I was to them. From small planets the only thing you can hear is thump-ta-da-thump-ta-da-thump, I learn from another nearby, but lucid conversation. Lotti lies here with her head on my leg. She doesn't like it here anymore. Interview with Miss MK, a friend of Brice, from the north. Too long, bad, soon to leave, who knows where. No distinguishing remarks about the party. Seldom I have met such a superficial bunch of bananas. Droopily she remarks. Linda emerges with the savage looking type. Pretending, all the time, that nothing is going on. He moves to another room. Lotti thought she was giving him a blow job. We peeked in every now and then. Pink shirts name is Jeff, alias Big Chief Pink Shirt. Lotti saw them doing some sort of fertility rite. She tries to explain what types of mailing lists I sell. Pink Shirt walks through the room praying, or at least with is hands clasped in a prayerful expression. He's a handsome devil. The sort Linda falls for. Someone asks if I'm the party historian, as they notice me writing. I know about 15 people here. Lotti and I continue our spy game with Linda and Pink Shirt. She thinks he's the sort who will punch me out. Sherry and Marushka thought me too much bold, aggressive even. Steve and Nadine are making out in a chair next to me and Lotti. It all seems mindless compared to the parties on Amory Street. There's a lot more alcohol here. Lotti remarks how Linda doesn't seem to be fixated on me. She seems to have room to breath, unlike Simone, she adds. It wasn't always that way I tell her. Linda is still fixated on the idea of someone. So am I, Lotti says about herself. Steve wants to contact Carol when she's in New York. She gives him the name of her hotel, but he's forgotten her last name. I have the impression of people partying and crashing through life. Stumbling through their allotted days. Falling into things by chance. Falling into situations. Everything is random and by chance, and everyone wants to believe things are the opposite for them. Each sees the stream of chance in the life of everyone else, but not their own. Each wants to believe that they are in control, that they have a handle on their own personal fate, that things are moving in the direction they want. But I know that a single party, such as this one, can result in enormous changes in one's life. I met Simone at just such a party. I had no idea of what would happen there. A single moments decision, which might have gone completely the other way, led me to go that night with Edwin. This party could be the same for any number of people here. If not this party, then maybe the next. But something completely random will happen sometime. And one will go flying off in that new direction, still believing oneself to be at the controls.

Linda has enough energy for another party. She got it from Mr Pink Shirt. The excitement of a new relationship, plus the tension of me walking around in the middle of it. He's a law school student and is married. He cheats on his wife. Linda flicks booggers at this writer. Nadine describes it as a very human party. And adds that Richard is interested in who's picking up who. She really liked it. People communing with people, not just individuals alone. Its called being a weasel, Lotti retorts, about my interest. Steve wants me to mail him a copy of this. Box 300, GPO, Brooklyn NY 11202.

You look funny with a leaf over your head, Nadine remarks. I'm sitting under a large leafy plant. Leaf, Leaf, over my head. Git away now, or I'll shoot you dead. And my apologies to all you poets.

Sam and everyone is gone, but me, Linda, and Mark. In fact, he is totally pissed at me for coming back. I've just given Lotti an escort home. He thought I would be gentlemen enough to realize that I wasn't wanted here. It gets very tense. He wonders what things will be like in two more years, from my living like this. He never really explains what the this is. Perhaps he expects me to have heart failure from sexual excess. Or perhaps develop cancer from the anxiety of having many relationships. So the tension continues. Linda looks down at her feet most of the time. With a criticism of me now and then. Several times I ask if she wants me to go. The answer is no each time. Mark seems not to hear this. He continues to pressure me into leaving. He tells me about love. You don't know anything about this, he informs me. You have only base lust, he adds. What Linda and I had this evening is something that everyone but you could see. It was obvious that we shared something special. Something you don't know about because of your preoccupation with pure lust. And on and on he goes. It is my turn. I tell him about how he doesn't notice that Linda wants me to stay. That she doesn't really trust him. He has a mean look in his face, a mean tone to his voice, the whole time. Linda wants me to stay for other reasons. She knows from lots of experience about characters like him. This love that he imagines with her will go away in a few days. They will feel an odd sort of tension in its place. He has great expectations of the situation, as does Linda. And already they both have fear of not getting what they want. They have turned a few minutes of sitting on a couch and smooching into a great romantic adventure. Its nothing more than their having allowed themselves to let go for awhile. But he can't stand to hear me talk and gets up to leave. Not before informing me that, were he not a gentlemen, he'd punch me out. And I have barely had a chance to go at him. Paranoid feelings for an hour or two that he might come back and punch me out. I was surprised that my words hit him so hard. Well, he didn't burn down the house, or shoot me. For some time the sound of people moving around frightened me.

Later, in bed with Linda, I noticed how she said everything she wanted about me, but nothing about Mark. None of the criticisms I've heard about him before. She doesn't trust him and so holds back. He's forced himself on her before. It could happen again. As Ann said, he's a horny young guy who thinks he deserves a woman. Only when we are alone can she say things about him. She does not challenge his claim that she and Mark have what he calls genuine caring for each other. But I know from my experience with her that they will have difficulty talking to each other in a few days.

He's a very well programmed person. He wonders what's wrong with my program by telling me how I should know automatically what was going on with he and Linda, and then bow out gracefully. He sees Linda as someone completely under my control and hopes to rescue her from me. He wonders how Linda could allow herself to be manipulated by me and so trapped in this situation. But he will be glad to save her. This discussion about what people should know, just by being sensitive to the situation, goes on for some time. My response is that I'm completely insensitive, and need to be told exactly what's going on. It doesn't help. He still can't tell me exactly what he wants, except to ask me to leave. Each time I ask Linda if that's what she wants. Each time the answer is no.

Linda agrees with Mark about my not being capable of love. But I think this is a reaction to not getting everything she wants from me. She has gone chasing after love many times since I've known her, and many times before. She's no expert on what love is. She runs after it in desperation and grabs the first thing that even vaguely resembles love. And then has the greatest of expectations for it. Which can't be satisfied. She holds back herself from the very beginning. She always fears it will fail. This contributes to its failure. The other person, who she decides on for having similar qualities, fears the same. The other also holds back. They each notice this holding back on the part of the other, and do more of the same themselves. So, that's all I have to say about the party at Linda's house, and the house of all those who live, love, laugh, linger, lament, and long there.

I'd been thinking about doing this for some time. First, to be sure that I was ok in this way. Second, because my sexual partners, from time to time, have expressed anxiety about it, or someone they have sex with has mentioned it. At least one man has said he will not have sex with one of my partners because he is afraid of Herpes, which he imagines himself getting from her, via me. It is also a way of becoming more conscious of one's sexual relationships. And how much one cares about those relationships. I find many people concerned about getting something from someone, but less concerned that they will be the giver. The situation is like this for me. I have 3 sexual partners. All women. I have had sex with two of them for almost two years, and almost 2 months with the third. They have all expressed varying degrees of anxiety about my other relationships. Each of them has had from 9 to 15 sexual contacts, different partners, in the last two years. But their anxiety seems to be mostly directed at my other partners, through me, rather than themselves. And this makes some sense as these other people are more unknown than their own partners. So my idea is to practice some preventative medicine to help put these anxieties to rest. I will start with myself and ask them to do the same. They can be responsible for whoever they relate to. A second part of this is to start some sort of public record. I am thinking of a notebook with the results of my own and other tests. I will make it available to anyone who will have any sort of sexual contact with the people in our 'ògroup'. So I am starting a notebook, VD Test Results. Results will be stored in chronological order, and alphabetically, by last name, within a given month and year. A number of people have told me its a good idea and that they will join me in doing this. I look forward to their participation. Anyone may join in.

Most of my time, half an hour at least, was spent in a most interesting conversation with Ms C. Asking me how I'd learned of the clinic, I tell her it was from an article in a local newspaper. She was not pleased with this paper as she had been badly interviewed several years ago, by them. But she did want to get a copy of the article. I was taking notes at this point and she wanted to know if it was for a newspaper article. No, but I told her about my notes and what I wanted to do with what I wrote about my experience at the clinic. I promised to send her a copy.

Herpes was the biggest topic of conversation. Its the thing most people are afraid of. 50% of the people never get it. They are protected by virtue of having contacted Herpes I, cold sores, as a child. I had these things coming out my ears. So it seems I'm well protected against them, and will most likely never get it. She emphasized how stress and anxiety seem to be the biggest cause of an outbreak of Herpes once it is contacted. Its not so terrible. It can be sore. But there is no danger if sexual contact is avoided during this active phase. There is no danger at any time. Avoid sex when you have the symptoms, and you will never get it. It seems that Herpes is increasing. Her theory is that some of it is due to increased oral sex. Something about how Herpes I & II get passed around and perhaps have some sort of catalyst, or activating, influence on each other. She does not believe Herpes to be related to cervical cancer. One out of 7900 babies born at Boston Lying In last year, 1980, was done by cesarian section because of an active Herpes case. One in 5 million cases of Herpes may die from related cause. There is about 10 times the chance of getting it in an airplane crash. So, avoid oral sex when you have cold sores. She finds that women will use a fear of Herpes as a way of avoiding sex. Men get things most often, but women have the most fear of getting something. Most of these cases turn out to be just fear, and behind it a fear of sex.

A most interesting story of 17 couples in Newton. They are married, have jobs, homes, children. But they have organized themselves in order to get more sexual satisfaction. At the same time they are very conscious of problems that can arise from having so many potential sexual contacts. She has been seeing some of the men for several years. They have regular examinations, but doesn't know what they will do now that the funding for that clinic has been cut. They range from 30's to 50's in age. I want to contact them to learn how they contacted each other originally, how they got started, overcame problems of jealousy, and how it is going now. I want to organize something like this for myself. As do many other people. Syphilis is another interesting topic. It starts, sometimes, with a simple sore around the genital area. Sometimes nothing. One gets a rash on the palms of the hands and soles of the feet after 6 weeks. Then nothing. It goes to sleep for from 5 to 15 years. It lodges in an organ, or organs. It wakes up and destroys the organ(s). Its simple to cure. Penicillin will do it. Its something you can have and not know. This test, done with blood, takes about a week.

So, I am writing this with the idea of sending it to people that I know and/or am sexually involved with. I hope it will help put an end to some anxiety, and some of the finger pointing. People can have themselves tested, and ask their sexual partners to do the same. In addition, I want to do something about the question of how people can best get their sexual needs met. How to be satisfied and solve some of the problems of health care and emotional care. I feel like Ms C, who had a very positive attitude about sex, and who, sometime during our conversation, told me that people should stop worrying and have fun.

Yesterday, Tuesday, December 15, 1981, between 4 and 6 pm, I visited the VD clinic at Cambridge Hospital. This is the story of my visit, examination, and some things I learned there.

I was embarrassed to be there for two reasons. The first having to do with a general sense of shame at going to such a place. There is such an attitude in society about this kind of health care. A sense of guilt. I must have done something wrong to have to go there. But that passed quickly. There were two people ahead of me. They finished very quickly. A man and then a woman. After I finished with everything, and returned to get my coat, the waiting room was filled with men. Half a dozen or more. And no women. The second reason for my embarrassment was related to having run out of clean underwear the day before. So I had borrowed a pair of women's underwear. It made me a bit self-conscious. But that too passed quickly. So now its my turn. The nurse, Ms C, called me in. She's an older woman, in her late 40's or 50's. Another source of embarrassment, to be examined by a woman. But maybe she won't be doing it. All my little anxieties get added up as we enter the exam room for who knows what. But I don't feel any dis-ease from her. She seems like an old hand at this. Since 1963, in fact. She takes out a roll of paper and puts a new piece on one of those exam tables with stirrups. She sits and I continue to stand. Am I going to run out or something?

Do you have sex with men, she asks. No, I reply, and why do you ask. 65% of my cases are gay males. They tend to be the most promiscuous of all sexually active people. They have the least knowledge about their partners. They have the most casual and frequent sexual contacts. Just women, she comments. Yes, that's right, I assure her. She doesn't ask any questions about animals, plants, or other objects. And nothing about masturbation. Can one get anything from masturbating? Let me see your penis, she asks, after slipping on a rubber glove. Out it comes. My embarrassment all goes away at this point. She is completely matter of fact, and probably quite unimpressed. One could see a lot of these things in 18 years. She has this piece of wire, about 8 inches long, with a little round thing on one end, and a loop on the other. This goes inside to get something for the culture. The little round this is specially treated to pick up germs. It smarts like a son-of-bitch! She must have put about half of it inside me. The end gets smeared on the surface of a culture kit. She puts a little pill in with it to absorb all the oxygen. This test is for gonorrhea. It must be done in the absence of oxygen. It takes a day or two to grow. The little plastic case goes into a second plastic container, a bag. The blood text for syphilis means a needle. Its easy to find a vein, but a little blood spurts out a slightly jagged hole. It stings a little. A friend of mine faints when he sees blood. He can't donate it because of this. Otherwise he's fearless. That's it. I've no other symptoms.

Its not really Friday. I'm trying to make up for two days of being away from the house. Anxiety about being here with Simone, especially alone. Very strong urge to flee.

Lotti talking to me about Simone and using contraceptives: I don't think you should take the responsibility since it is her body.

Some ideas about the Friday evening meeting: Joe thinks there should be a limit to amplitude and duration of people's talking. Lotti doesn't think it will work. It will end in disaster. Linda wants credit for the tape recording idea. Joe likes it. Lotti and Linda are resistant at first. Linda wants to know how people who break down will be handled. Lotti is feeling very vulnerable at that moment. It has something

Yesterday, at the Lowell School office, I had to add a sentence to my course description. Sitting down, I looked at the paper for a minute, then wrote what was needed almost without hesitation. Virginia found it very clear, simple, and to the point. Dr Wedlock, the director, found my course descriptions to be just fine. He had two English teachers for parents. They were always working with him to develop his writing. He's very good for what he writes. In thinking about it, I realize how much my own has improved in the last year. Even in the last ten days it seems to have gotten better. Its much easier certainly. The last few days have come right off my fingers. Very little hesitation.

Joe has been spending lots of time with Nadine, Lotti, and Linda. He must really enjoy having the three women to himself. Linda finished his portrait last night. It was in pencil. He was sitting in a chair and had only his underwear and a pair of socks on. Also, his glasses. It was very good. He was very pleased with it. She was satisfied with what he paid her. He's going to hang it where his pool playing ladies picture is now.

The Zucchini Assembly. People keep asking me what its about. What are we going to do. Edwin is skeptical. Ann is cautious about coming. We talk about it in a restaurant. Edwin can't recognize me as being able to lead a group in any way. Sten is the only one, he tells me, and he's not here. But back to what its about. We all have the feeling of not really knowing what other people are like. What's going on inside them. I see it as a chance to have everybody we know site down and talk. A chance to unburden.

Monday morning, Linda calls me to borrow a pair of shoes for Mark Levy. He has locked himself out of the apartment downstairs. His shoes are inside. He didn't want to ask me directly. So, I tell her, first he wants my woman, then he wants my shoes. Well, I continue, tell him that my underwear is the bottom line. And no more! He has told her to leave me. Can't you see how he's just using you, and doesn't really love you, he informs her.

More about Simone's most recent assault. I realize how my own interpretation of the event gets confused after talking to Nadine. I had, in my confusion, described the situation as one where I was trying to flee the apartment, and Simone was trying to hold me in. In reality, she was trying to throw me out, and I was trying to stay inside. After threats of murder, stabbing, calling the police, and miscellaneous mayhem, she left and went to Linda's.

Do you know what Richard wrote in his notes, she cries to them on walking in the door. He wants me to have a VD test every month. Linda and Lotti both ask me about contraception. I understand you still aren't using anything and taking equal responsibility for it, she says. I get pissed off at this and remind her that she is talking about an ideal world where everyone has equal rights. My own experience tells me that men and women don't have equal right or responsibilities when it comes to children. Women may want men to take equal responsibility for contraception and abortion costs, but nobody jumped up and down to help me get the right to see my daughter. So I get carried away with it. Lotti is now under the impression that I won't let Simone use contraceptives. Is it true, she asks.

Simone calls me from Braintree. She has had an accident. A scrape with the guardrail. She almost passed out again, and vomited. She told me about staying with Jack last night. Didn't want to tell me where at first. Then she disclosed that it was to protect Lotti from getting hurt. This afternoon she says they didn't fuck as Jack was too afraid of the complications. Jack is also in on protecting Lotti. She and I may a great little play, and have enormous fun with it. She still sees Simone as a matchmaker. Jack won't really let go and have an affair with her until she leaves me. She's covering her ass about someone to take care of her. Just in case it doesn't work out with me. Who wouldn't do the same? I see it all the time.

Simone learns more interesting stuff about Dana. He really wants to have an affair with Simone, but not as long as I'm with her. His lock went on last August. Simone didn't notice it till a few days ago. I asked him about his impression of my opening the door and looking in without knocking. My memory is that I've never done that. He admits its possible.

Judy tells me she notices that these assaults and physical interactions with Simone seem to be more frequent. It seems that way to me also.

I stayed with Linda last night. It was hard for me to fall asleep. Some fear of Simone showing up. Some of fear of the attack. Asking Linda about it prompts her to remind me of her father. He was always threatening to kill someone, or throw them out of the house. This kept her awake many nights. She still has some of this in her. Touching her at night causes her to react very strongly. As though she were having a bad dream. Her body will suddenly jerk or convulse. She will gasp for breath.

Sometimes I see that each of us is like an iceberg to the others. We only get to see a little bit from the top of each of us. We show and hide as we see fit, to whomever we see fit to do so. Only some larger number of people get to see what each of us is really like.

Nadine, Lotti, and Linda thought my idea for regular VD tests was a good idea. They may even participate.

A call from Lesley College yesterday to come in for an interview for a job in their computer science department. Simone must be a little jealous.

Michael called the house for Simone about 1 minute after she left. I told her about the attack on me. He could identify with it as she's done the same to him many times. This afternoon I learned from Dana that she's done the same to him. He tells Simone, but not me that Constance is having some sort of very hard time at the moment, but he can't talk about it or won't.

A long talk this afternoon with Dana and Simone. About the whole situation and what we will do. I want to talk to a lawyer and find out what sort of problems I will have if she really does call the police. My reputation with them is not too good. I need to cover my ass. She's astounded at this reaction. Everything seems to be almost ok with her. She speaks about moving to another place with Jack, but doesn't really want to do that. About moving into a big house with more people, but feels we have to have a solid base for doing that, and its not there yet. She wants to have some sort of group meeting where we talk about everything that's going on. She wants me to respond in a certain way when she's feeling bad. I get some examples of kissing or hugging her when she asks. But this seems completely phony and contrived. But its real to her as that's how she and Michael did it. To me it would be faking. I feel false enough now in much of my behavior. It doesn't make sense to practice being false directly. To do something for which I have no feeling. More, but we had to end as she had a client coming for therapy. We will try talking with more people this Friday evening. I have volunteered to get a tape recorder. We can give copies to people who might like to know about hot it went. But did not want to attend.

There will be a new VD clinic at the Cambridge Hospital, every Tuesday, from 4 to 6pm, beginning on December 15. The guy at the desk asks me if I have a practice. No, I inform him, its for my own use. Do I imagine the people in the waiting room to be staring at me after this little conversation?

Life here, with Simone's return, has returned to normal. Namely, the desperate, whining, sniveling, demanding, little kid who can never get enough of what she wants. After hearing more of her weekend with Jeff I am absolutely astounded and amazed that she would even consider living with him, or marriage. But it actually seems to be on her mind. This after seeing a woman who spent 17 years with an alcoholic, and has just married her second, and who is already covering her ass for divorce. For her, of course, this behavior seems like the perfectly ok and natural thing to do. For me its something to be avoided, which means avoiding her. She never has any understanding of this situation until someone turns the tables on her. Jeff being the most recent, and Stu just before that.

Some dreams last night: Maggie Lettvin is giving an exercise class on FH. I walk into a room and she is on the floor with several other women. A second dream has me, Simone, and Steve in a garage, an auto repair place, trying to fix a car. He wants her to go outside and smooch. He wants to get her away from me. I keep trying to fix the car and keep an eye on them at the same time. This merges into another dream about a car, with helicopter blades on top, slowly descending to the roof of a one story building across the street. It lands ok and begins to roll, very slowly, towards the edge. Why doesn't the pilot use the brake, I wonder. Its getting close to the edge. Its going to fall over. It does! It falls slowly. The nose of the car is squashed. The pilot is still inside and ok. Two others get out. The pilot is acting funny.

More funny stuff going on here. Dana thinks I'm trying to interfere with his and Simone's business, and trying to get Simone out of the house. It seems he thinks I'm doing things to get her to leave. That I'm acting strangely, but he doesn't say concretely how. Jack said this recently. But nobody says anything concrete. All vague reference and innuendo. Dana thinks Ann's coming over last night was some sort of complicated trick. Jeff thought the same. He thought Simone might end up sleeping with him if he played his cards right. But Ann only wanted to read the Globe help wanted ads. She'd spent the day at an interviewing seminar. She was enthusiastic about continuing her search for a job.

Simone has just returned. Dread sweeps over me. The urge to be elsewhere. Now its that I told her mother I was arguing with her tonight. You told my mother we were fighting tonight, when you've been at your class she accuses. But its only a question of semantics or time. Nothing to do with reality. So you want to fight tonight, she asks. How do these things start? I wonder. Then a false try at making up. It reminds me of an incident from her therapy weekend. Barb Levy and her have some tension between them. It originally came from the possibility of a relationship with Jerry, one of the trainers. They do not speak easily with each other, as in the beginning. Simone makes a contrived move, I want to hug you, she says, and is rebuffed.

Today is the 40th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor. Two people, Sten and Lotti, have told me they read an interview with the lead pilot.

The picture has come back. It went away last Thanksgiving day, a week ago Thursday. Simone moved my bed around to have room for some art work. The picture was placed in a position for everyone to see. It was gone at the end of the day. Simone has accused me, Jeff, and Dana, of having taken it. I thought Jeff might have taken it to his mother for a wedding present. Simone thinks I may have taken it for some ulterior motive. Or because I've done this sort of thing before. That Richard is a known picture thief. Anyway, its back. It could only have been me, Jeff, or Dana. Maybe Jack, as he has a set of keys, and could have snuck in with it. It was not here when I left for the office about 9:30pm. I didn't even remember what it looked like. Its been hanging over my bed for months. This missing painting seems symbolic of something. The lack of communication here or inability to recognize a common purpose or interest. Its like taking the normal little foolish and nasty behavior we exhibit and abstracting it. Maximizing pain with minimum damage. Throwing a psychological wrench into the machinery of life, into the workings of social reality. A considerable amount of unnecessary tension and speculation and accusation has been generated by this incident. What actually happened is still not clear to me. After realizing that the painting may have been under my mattress for the last few days, my suspicions shift to Dana as the culprit. I only noticed it the last few days. But Jeff could have put it there also. It was something I only noticed every now and then. My awareness built up slowly after noticing something like an edge under the mattress. But its only a piece of foam rubber on a flat piece of plywood. There shouldn't have been anything there. I didn't look because I couldn't imagine what it could be. It may have crossed my mind for just a moment. But I was in bed with someone each time. Not a romantic thing to do. Excuse me, but there seems to be something under the bed and I'll have to stop fucking, or whatever is going on, and check it out. But most important is that we not only unconsciously try to manipulate the mood here, but now its going on in a very deliberate and malicious manner. Somebody feels they have something to gain by causing confusion and suspicion and bad feelings and mistrust. I wonder if it isn't Jeff trying to push Simone more in his direction. After I left for the office, and Simone went out, the painting came back. Jeff and Dana were here. Jack may have come in for awhile. Jeff asked Simone to live with him and get married. He is pulling out all the stops. On the other hand, just a bit earlier, Simone told me that he wants to try having more than one relationship, and that he wants to be honest about it. He's very afraid of doing this, and asking Simone to marry him may be a way of avoiding having to do that. Dana, on the other hand, said something, like a clue, which made me think it was him. About the painting being face down. I imagine a meeting where we all present the facts, and theories, as we see it. But even this is such a frustrating thing. What a waste of time for all of us. The culprit could still manage to stay hidden. On the other hand it could be a very good thing to see exactly how each of us suspects the others. Not even Simone is free of guilt. Its possible for her to have done the whole thing. The motive is not exactly clear to me. Perhaps to stir up mischief amongst the rest of us. How would the others see me? First, that I did something similar before. But I made my position clear. It was in reaction to something else. Well, they might say, obviously you won't try the exact same thing. Something a little more clever, a little more subtle. Maybe a new way to keep Simone in line. Keep her a little off guard all the time. In any case, someone will be paying for it till they confess. Something like this always costs something.

And why do I tend to use the same word two or more times in the same sentence? I notice myself doing this to myself in the previous paragraph. Why, exactly, does it turn out to be this way, exactly, why? I have to think about it too much to do it. Thinking about it makes it too hard to do. I end up making sentences that make no sense, tense wise, perhaps? Will he ever be literarily clever, you ask yourself? Will he ever go on to something else? Yes.

A long talk with Joe yesterday about VD. The fear of it makes him loose his enthusiasm about Linda and Simone. He sees both of them as not very prudent or careful. Its a very unromantic part of his relationship with women. He grills them about it. He also tends to be with women who get around less than him. I have heard similar anxiety from Ann. She worries about it. Simone's friend Steve has told her he's afraid of getting herpes, via me, from her. He has the same problem, but more related to being so secretive about his relationships. Everybody is afraid of getting something from someone else. They never suspect they may be the one. I have decided to get a VD test, and make the results public, at least amongst the people most directly concerned, once a month. Joe liked the idea and said he would be amenable to doing the same. Then others could follow the example and space their tests so that someone has a test every few days. This should help the anxiety. But I suspect resistance to the idea. Nobody wants to get caught as the one with something. Everyone will be inclined to say its a good idea for everyone else. I even thought of refusing to fuck with someone who doesn't have the test results from at least the last month. There are those who will say it spoils the mood. Tough shit. Anxiety about it spoils the mood. A disease will destroy the mood.

Liz, Ann's roommate is offended by my use of the word appointment. I called Ann one day to change a date to another night, but used the word appointment. She became a bit indignant and accused me of being rather impersonal and uncaring. She gave me a quick, short, self-righteous lecture - and then hung up in the middle of my first sentence in reply. She thinks me a bit strange, as does Peg House, but is intrigued. Her interpretation of my body language is that I'm telling her to stay away, don't touch me. This is the first woman, to my knowledge, to ever say such a thing about me. Most have just the opposite impression. And its true, I'd like to get my hands on most women. But she thinks I'm pushing her away. Peg thinks I look at women as though they are meat. Its true. Sometimes I feel nothing more than lust. Pure, unadulterated, simple, unbridled lust! On the other hand, there hasn't been a woman I haven't felt more for, given time to do so.

The latest gossip about Darby is that she in love with a new man. She's known him for two weeks and wants to get married. He is recently divorced. More trouble for Darby. Why don't people's friends speak up and tell them what they are doing? Simone went to visit Nancie a few days ago. She didn't want me to come along. Sexual troubles with Robert. He doesn't want to fuck. Seems he is getting fatter and doesn't want to be touched. Maybe something related to his being a father again. What a story about his ex-wife and their son. They have both taken vacations to be crazy.

Lotti asks me how I lie. For me its mostly a matter of holding my tongue. Simone does this by letting hers flap all the time. Dana does it by pretending he doesn't have one.

Simone has wanted me to agree to a trip to Wyoming to visit my family. One night I told her she was like a dog pissing on trees to mark its territory. And she is constantly trying to mark off little boundaries around me, as her property. This drove her crazy. She spent some two hours foaming at the mouth and verbally and physically assaulting me. Finally I just left. There was nothing else to do, except maybe stay and be assaulted. People are most disturbed when you say something to them that hits the mark.

Some dreams later that night, after the above mentioned fight. Hitting the beach with the Marines. But everything looks normal. Its just a beach with houses and people in them. The people don't notice anything. Us soldiers on the beach are afraid of being shot. We are very cautious. But nobody else notices anything. Another one where my prick kept falling off. I keep trying to glue it back on. But the flue won't dry. It just gets and stays a little sticky. I have to hold it on. In the dream, or right at the end, I wake up and am afraid it might just be true. Is it ok? Is it falling off?

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I am writing in my little notebook while we talk. Are you an FBI agent, he asks. Hand over those notes, he demands. You're the one who'e into openness and honesty, he says with an indignant tone in his voice. He doesn't get them. Somehow, and just how escapes me, he says something to the effect that I've hit the nail right on the head, I've gotten right to the heart of the matter, I've noticed that he isn't getting enough sex. But I said nothing of the sort. Just a few knowing looks and nods of the head. Without saying a word to him about the subject, he imagines that I've concluded his current problem is not getting fucked enough. This was obvious from what he told Simone, and she later related to me. But he said nothing of the sort in mixed company. Except to say that Debbie had gotten out her TV and was always watching it. He's thinking of divorce again. Built himself a cage and wants to get out of it.

Lots of comments about my notes from recent readers. Dave Burmaster: ranges from brilliant to dull. I could never say all those things about myself. Made me think about my relationship with Becky and what happened. Ann: you know what I like about your notes? They show that everybody's life is as crazy as mine. Teri: entranced. Reminds me of Anais Nin. After reading the parts about sexuality I decided to do something more concrete about birth control. I'm going to do something about it. I had an abortion last Spring and don't want it to happen again. Lotti: you don't break any new ground, its boring, the same old stuff. Mark Levy: amazed at my writing. It has an emotional impact on him. He appalled as I seem to be somewhat of an exhibitionist, and I'm not being moralistic, he assure me. Sandy Copeman: (as told to Simone) she's not going to lie about her other relationships. Right now she sees several people and doesn't tell them about the others. She also confessed to having a funny relationship with a psychiatrist. Their sessions sometimes last for hours. She couldn't say it directly, but I think he's fucking her, but its part of the 'therapy'.

Carol is still moving to Philadelphia. She has gotten a lot more relaxed recently. She spent a recent night upstairs with Edwin and Jeff. They drank an caroused till some ridiculous hour in the morning. Edwin did some sort of ventriloquist act, Jeff told dirty stories, and Carol was an exotic dancer. She even spent a night in bed with me. Simone and Ken were in the next room. She started with all her clothes on. We could hear them fucking. It aroused us. Slowly she started undressing. Its too hot for this piece of clothing, she informed me, and nothing more. Finally, all the way down to her panties. But no more. She helped me masturbate. She has this perverted loyalty disease. Its nothing more than fear in the disguise of I-wouldn't-do-that-to-my-best-friend. It invariably happens though. Sometimes the pressure is too much. A person just feels too horny. Forget the loyalty. There are lots of ways to explain such things. All the crazy things that hold people back from getting pleasure and satisfaction from life.

Jeremy Bloom, who visited FH last year, and also went to the first marathon conducted by Brooke and Otmar, has started dream therapy with Simone. He told her that FH didn't work for him, so now he wants to try dream therapy. Simone won't tell me about him, except to say that he has a lot of very deep problems.