7-7-86
(Midnite) I am pretty buzzed and listening to the Grateful Dead now.
One problem with scrapping the concept of "sexual monogamy" and the "pagan hero" role would be that it would eliminate one of the major story lines for our fiction. (Maybe tis time for new conditioning and some new story lines?)
I have changed since the bar days in Bozeman. (I knew dozens of women then. (I was quite the flirt!))-(How can I find that again?) (Sometimes I wish Erica hadn't pitched all my old letters. (Those times would make better reading than the journal. (Lots of fun and lots of people. (I sure had a lot more fun when I was unemployed and not paying my bills! (But, I also inflicted a lot of damage upon my body!)))))
The part of the journal I am typing now is pretty tedious. (Tis January, cold, and I was broke; so I spent hours and hours copying notes from the ozone and quotes from the past years reading into the journal. (I chopped a lot of quotes out when I copied them into the journal, and I am chopping a lot more now as I type.)-(I’ll have to chop even more, if I ever decide to publish.))
(8am) I didn't want to get up this morning, but I finally managed.
(11pm) I finished another bunch of letters to my pen pals today and shipped them out.
And I caught some more rays.
And typed. (And wondered why I bother. (The only style of writing it comes close to is Dr. Thompson's concept of gonzo journalism. (I doubt anyone would publish it, even if I found the courage to deal with all the rejection notices again.))
7-8-86
(8am) My lungs are rejecting me again. (Maybe tis time to try quitting cigs again?) (Maybe with Erica out of town, I would be successful? (Whenever I quit, as soon as I see her, I seem to start again. (e.g., back in '84, I quit for nine months of so, and then she came to town to visit, and I started again.)-(Weird! (Maybe tis a defense mechanism to keep her away? (She is the woman I have most wanted to spend time with; but she is also the one who scares me the most and I know cigs turn her off!)))))
(9am) Over the years in Bozeman, every time I talked about moving, my women friends told me they would give me a f as a going away present; but when I finally did move, no one did. (?) (e.g., when I almost left in Sept '83, Samantha and Carrie told me we would get together for a threesome; but Carrie didn't even give me a going away hug.)
(Noon) Busy morning.
7-9-86
(7am) Last nite I sun tanned, typed, and crashed.