Monday, January 19, 1981

Having a brand new fancy typewriter does not help. I have been here
over a week and haven't written anything. Not that a lot hasn't
happened. Today I confronted Bill about his talking about me to Simone
but not directly to me. This is not worth writing about. Walking to
the post office for the wail. Returning and feeling completely
disconnected from everything. Having ideas about how I want things to
come out but don't see how to do it. Lonely feelings. Nobody I can
trust really . Only Simone and Linda give me a feeling of not being
alone. They are away most of the time. I'm very stuck going to the
post office for the mail every day. It feels as though I mUst do it. I
have to do it. I think about how to change things so something else
happens.

I sleep until noon today. Not that I'm depressed, because I get up
right after waking and masturbating. A phone call goes
unanswered. Somehow I can't capture the mood that made it possible for
me to write so much on FH. A phone call from Linda last night. It
makes me feel good to hear she misses me and looks forward to seeing
me again. She tells me the story of how she was here the night I
called Dana. They were in bed together. She jumped out and ran to the
kitchen to listen on the extension. She felt a bit guilty. It was not
possible for her to do anything with Dana after that incident. She
wrote me a letter but it didn't get there in time. She wanted me to
hear about it from her before Dana told me the story. He already
has. The way he describes her is how Simone described him when I was
away. Simone calls to tell me of her plans for the week and that she
realized why she likes me so much. Its because she enjoys being with
me. Simple. A few days ago she tells me of this idea she has to make
things go faster. Why not a little newsletter describing all the
things that are going on with us and the people we know. I remind her
that this is an idea of mine from about 4 weeks ago. She thinks it
might isolate us even more. Its true but it will also cause people to
be very interested in whats going on. Those who are really interested
in living with us will understand. We had a talk with Dana the other
day about some recent problems, like his using the apartment to
refinish some of his old furniture. The smell gets into everything. It
is resolved by having him move things down to the Hampshire Place
office. Its also more room. The other things was comfort. Last Tuesday
night the dream group met here. It was too cold for Simone. She wanted
to raise the temperature. Dana wanted to keep it down to save
money. My concern was that everyone should be comfortable. We don't
have to suffer like a bunch of Pilgrims during our life. Better to
spend a little more money to be comfortable. He argues that she is not
really here and so doesn't have much say in the matter. I say that is
irrelevant. He sleeps with her, has an emotional relationship with
her, and this is a minor factor - that she does not technically live
here. I am eating chocolate again. The result of this was Simone's
saying that people talking to each other about what's going on is very
important. That this is a good basis for building a heal thy
community, which she and I both want. We try to talk about more
important things with other people that we know. Suddenly I feel a
little bit better.

A whole page.

Another letter from Genie Berman today. She wrote to me almost exactly
one year ago, also from Japan. She still thinks fondly of me and my
jokes. Maybe, she says, I will visit sometime soon. She goes to Italy
in the next few months. I wrote her a mushy love letter last
year. Something more sedate and rational this time. A date with Caryn
Schwartz yesterday. She called to cancel. My mistake. I pushed a
little too hard. She was obviously quite stirred up by our
conversation of a few days ago. My intuition, she said, tells me not
to do it. She has some connection with a TORI like group. Her friends
are in it so she goes, but does not like what goes on. It sounds very
chaotic. chicken bones allover the place she says. A rather withdrawn,
authoritarian, older man is the leader. We talk a lot about FH. Maybe
she will go sometime. She has sent Gertrude some information about
Intentional Education for the school. In the beginning, a difficult
time with Simone last night. It was almost one. I go to bed. She gets
here and wants me to go to her place. I say no. It is late, I'm tired,
not feeling well, don't want to ride there, go to bed, sleep, get up,
get on the subway, ride back to Cambridge. She protests and complains,
but stays. She is withdrawn at first, but we start talking. She is
under a lot of pressure. Its from work, Carol, having her other place
still, Michael, her parents this week, after a visit. She goes away to
California with Carol in two weeks. After a while it gets a little
better. She doesn't want any clam juice from me tonight. Well, maybe
... But we are too tired. Some more rambling talk, some games, fooling
around, and soon we both feel quite good. And so just go to sleep.

I think some more about the CAMBRIDGE CHRONICLES. What if we wrote
several pages with something about all the people we know, what's
going on with them at this time, make a mailing list and send it. What
would happen? I could send it to everyone on my Cambridge list, and
put together a list from Simone and my own directory. W'Vell, almost
two pages! This is getting exciting. But I now wonder about if I
should type everything single space. Certainly for a
newsletter. Difficult getting going today. So many things to do and
lots of uncertainty about which way to go. Edwin, while talking with
him yesterday, tells me my biggest problem is settling on one or two
things to do then putting lots of effort into it. Instead I try to do
everything of interest to me and can't do any of them very well, at
least not to my satisfaction. He's right. And now I think of doing
even more. Perhaps a new full time job, and the seminars Joe has been
helping me with. Dinner with Ron and Ellen a few days ago. Simone
thinks we may have freaked them out talking about our various
relationships. But they were interested, and it was more interesting
than other things we talked about.

Somehow horses came up and I was reminded of all my adventures as a
youth. Raising Suzie from a colt, Star, who we got rid of only when my
stepfather broke some of his ribs one day when the horse went crazy,
and others. I think lately of trying to write about my
childhood. Memories of lots of seminal incidents, or so they seem. Or
some things I don't remember, but my mother and grandmother tell me
of.

The end of the 2nd page.

Maybe I should go visit my grandparents in Florida. They can tell me a
lot about my early years. I have heard lots of stories already. Record
it or maybe even videotape the event. I begin to feel a bit teary
eyed. Dana and I speak a little about our childhoods. He did not like
having so many brothers and sisters. It was not a good time for
him. My mind flashes over many incidents of extreme feeling from when
I was a little boy. Visiting friends of my father. He talks about my
being so withdrawn, and how my sister gets along much better, and
quicker. The earliest memories I have of living in a trailer, West of
Cody, looking out the window, having the measles.

A vague memory of a communal bathing place with males and females
together. But I think this must be a creation of mine. I can't imagine
that such a thing really happened in Cody, Wyoming, sometime around
1950. Saturday, twwO days ago, Porter Square shopping center, a
bookstore. I see Sandy Margolin. First time in years. I feel a little
excited. Should I say anything, or pretend not to. Then I glance to
the side and see some books by Jerzy Kosinski. Spend a little time
looking at the covers. Finally the nerve. Do you read that sort of
thing, I comment about the book she is holding. Hello she says, long
time no see. Last she had heard of me was that I'm in some religious
group. Funny how rumors get turned upside down. I mean how rumors are
reality turned upside down. No, it was a free sexuality group. But its
a lot different now. At first I thought she was referring to the
Mormon Church, from which I had been excommunicated in 1973. Not
that. We talk about Jessie, David, and what she is doing. Living on
Eustis Street, divorced from David, shared custody, a new
boyfriend. Had been working as an editor. We say nothing about
Cheyenne or Adele. I speculate about how much of this will get back to
her. Briefly talk about how I may write this book about myself, but
having problems getting started. She has to go.
 
Tuesday, January 20, 1981

A sinking feeling, desperate, on my way to the post office. Will I
ever get out of this rut? Will I keep churning my wheels and getting
nowhere? A feeling that time is going too fast for, of being left
behind again. I think of how to change the situation. Last night late
to bed. Simone and I talk about her moving in. She talks about "our"
room. I want my own room. She wants to share one. A
struggle. Tensions. She argues that we will have to share a room only
temporarily, until we get a bigger place. I think she has just made up
this rationalization. She knows its true, but in the beginning denies
it. She spent some time in a bar with Tom Howard last night. He didn't
want her to call and tell me they were there. He thought I would come
over, as its nearby. He wanted to be alone with her. He is still
thinking about an affair, also divorce. Debbie is too boring for
him. But he needs a stable, reliable person like her. He bet Simone $5
that I would come to the bar. She Won. Later she, Dana, and I are
talking about this and other things. They plan to give these courses,
but the ad is wrong, and their mailing list is not ready. I get
frustrated and push on them to do something. Perhaps frustration with
my own inability to get IIDving on some things. Another dream about
airplanes last night. Also about a horse we had in Wyoming. I walk to
the train station with Simone and tell her my idea about common
ownership of some property, like a house. She is negative. Her last
experience with such a group living situation did not work out so
well. Too many big ideas and not enough attention to little
details. She's right, but I keep leaping ahead to what might be. Last
night's bed conversation turns for just a moment to sleeping with
other people in our common house. It gets a little tense. I mention
Dana. He's not sleeping with me now, she says. He can't manage it when
I'm there. Better to let this one pass, and not push on it.

Two days in a row of writing something! I am getting all excited about
the seminar and have asked Joe to help me develop the written
material. He agrees, while speaking to him in Harvard Square.

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 fringe 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 will 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. Then 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. ,C'he
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 FR. 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. Haw 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 stubbornness 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. 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 myself 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.

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
come about. Today I was thinking how everything seems to be 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. MMy hands are quite cold. Shaking a
little bit allover. 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 playa 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 clothes 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 some of my FR notes to read. I
will go to visit her next weekend. Simone will be on her way to
California.
 
Sunday, January 25, 1981

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 slamming 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 threshold 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.

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.

Tuesday, January 27, 1981

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 strugg ling 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 nasties, 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 Icy 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 paralyzed 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 it jump up from
time to time as we spoke. A little thing would set me off or something
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 berm, 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 haw 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. Haw 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?

Wednesday, January 28, 1981

Feeling fragile - the opposite of feeling 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?

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
lover 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
tonight. 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. At 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 can 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 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 says 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 mat 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 IIDSt 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 same, 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 seemns always on the defensi ve. 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 wvi th 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
howv 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 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 once 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 afternoon. 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 some 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 to hard to accept more than they
are able? Well, I'd think you were an asshole to.

Sunday, February l, 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 demonstrations 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.

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 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.

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. They 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 propaganda. There is stream of
consciousness 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.

Sunday, February 8, 1981

It is the next day and its all forgotten. We had a big party last
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 allover, 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 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, 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 know 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. Sten 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 my fame and fortune fantasies. Karyn comes just
after Ron, about l 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. So 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 what
I see as fake seems real to her. But this is odd as we have not really
talked about any specific examples, and surely there are times when
she has the impression that someone is faking their feelings or state
of mind. At that point the air became a little thick and she said we
will have to talk about all this another time. But all the time very
mellow, laid back, very cool, big smile, especially just before she
says anything to counter what I've just said. The body stays in
exactly the same position. The appearance does not correspond to the
impression I have of what's going on inside of her. She takes her
judgmental, angry, and other feelings, puts them in an emotional
blender .... and out comes mush. Have him call me tonight, if he wants,
and if he, uh, well, doesn't, then uh, life will go on. So says
Suzanne, the redhead, who has just called for Dana. That slick bastard
has done it again! He's caught another one. Jealous again. She called
to invite him to a performance in Harvard Square at 3 this
afternoon. He has just taken Carol home. So much for my chances with
the redhead. She will get hers soon enough. Him and his fairy tale
books, 19th century furniture, and smooth line. Shit on him. Good
thing he's not here. At the moment a good fight would be just the
thing. I notice myself getting very agitated and shaking a bit. I just
have the idea to send a copy of these notes to everyone who attended
the party. But it also seems the idea comes a little bit from wanting
to put the screws to this Suzanne for rejecting me. But maybe I will
do it anyway. Its not all from that. This is something I've noticed a
lot about myself. Someone will reject me, I'll get mad at them or
something. The next thing you know I have just thought of a very
clever thing to do that will cause them some trouble. I never have
this sort of idea to directly fuck them over, but at first my
motivation is for some other reason, not related to them. Just this
thing with Suzanne as an example. She rejects, indirectly certainly,
me for Dana, and then I have this idea to send out my notes to
everyone. And of course I know she will be troubled by the hints I
have so innocently interj ected about trying. to start anything with
Dana. But if I don't get what I want, then she is definitely not going
to get what she wants. Certainly not if I can prevent it. Then I
think, who else to write about, who else can I give a hard time by
sending these notes?

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
newsstand 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 then 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 cane 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 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 relationship 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 Dana has botched another
relationship. The 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. There 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 rut 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 more 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 cane 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 haw, 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. Some 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 today.

Wednesday, February ll, 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. tonight 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 own 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 gurantee 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. She also felt left out and that the spotlight
was being taken away from 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 straightforward 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 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 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 cane 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 problwm 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
rejecting 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 than 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 than
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 fran 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 same 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 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 high school. 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
unbelievably 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 some 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 some 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 some
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
some 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 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