someone else’s lonely ass

Monday, October 7, 1996
10am, 72nd and Madison

Waiting for my bus up to the Neversink retreat to leave. Hope nobody wants a seat next to me. I feel anxious because I’m leaving my cats, because I wasted the whole morning, when I could have done it all better. Could have always done it better, but it’s not done yet, and I’m doing it. That’s something, right?

Sat down and sucked my thumb for 15 minutes before leaving. Don’t know what to think about that’s not painful. Sad over Ted. Whenever I think about traveling, it’s with him. But I’m happy to be going away alone, though I think about reaching over and holding his hand in a bus seat next to mine. I think about support, a friend, and what that means, and what that entails in return.

Are those my sneakers I can smell through my bag? Where am I? And why don’t we leave already? Time is crawling. Glad I got pot. I was pissed this morning, thinking, what a hassle. I should just go without, but I’m not great about going without, without anything, without a lover/companion, without money, pot, or food. But I’m okay. I’m getting better.

So maybe I do dig too deep, writing now with a pen from the Thunderbird Lodge Canyon De Chelly, Arizona. Oh, Ted, on and on. Just thinking of him out under the stars, watching the stars. I’m so nostalgic, so sentimental, even with regards to myself.

I’ve been thinking about my spiritual life and how empty and neglected it is. Higher power? I mean, um, sure. Of course, isn’t there? It’s pretty presumptive to think that all of this just exists and there are no higher forces. I mean, what about weather and math. Both of those are proof of the divine, aren’t they? Or maybe they’re random.

Maybe the name for it is The Something. The Something that has nothing to do with anything else.

So, what have we learned? I want more pot, that’s A. And I don’t know if all of these little books and what I’m doing right now is called doubting myself. But look what happens if I don’t watch it. I blow it. There I was, telling myself I’m a good person, and I’m doing the right thing, and then I’m having sex with Frank. Obviously, I know nothing.

Tuesday, October 8, 1996
9:15am, Neversink retreat, common room

Woke up off and on all morning since 6:30. I didn’t make myself stop drifting off until 10 til 9. Now it’s 9:15 and time for breakfast. But I wanted to be late so I won’t have to sit down and talk to anyone. I’m glad I came here. It really helps, and boy did I torture myself going back and forth between guys last night.

Maybe I’ll walk in the woods today, probably this morning until lunch, and I’ll bring my notebook with me, maybe write a poem. This has got to be one of my favorite ways of withdrawing from a group of people. I swear, when I feel uncomfortable in public, these books and so perfect, so appropriate. They say I am far too smart, secret, different, or even dissident, to interact the way the rest of you do. I can’t possibly invent interest if I can’t feel it. So you’ll excuse me. You’ll have to. I can’t talk to you, mostly because I don’t particularly want to. I’m different.

Is it rude to be shy? What’s the difference? And I’m really still shy or do I pretend, to get off the hook. Not shy, revolted usually, not that others aren’t. The happy religious gal who brought pictures of her church, the made-up babe from Texas who hunts doves and beer. The matter-of-fact fat babe from Stanford. I like her. She’s friendly and reserved at the same time.

The point is not to be awkward, I guess. Not to translate the awkwardness to others where becomes their problem. Not that one can assume someone else’s problem, not that my problem can become yours. Not that I need to assume other people’s problems; e.g., they’re lonely, which is what I’m always afraid to get stuck with. I don’t want to wind up responsible for someone else’s lonely ass, except, of course, my own.

Lunch, cafeteria

It feels like I’ve come to an amazing number of important realizations and spent and least a third of the time thinking the same old stupid stuff.

Came closer in touch with myself; e.g., spent the morning in the woods alone, loving it, loving it. Stopped many times, retraced, walked slowly, noticed self peace. Many moments of peace, wonderment, and gratitude to self and others. Picked up the leaf that look like a mosaic, or blood cells, or traffic viewed from a plane, or everything. I thought, I’d like to make that leaf into an art project of some kind. Then, no, I’d like to make that leaf. Wouldn’t it be great to make that leaf or that bug?

Isn’t it nice to prove that I love myself. I brought myself here of my own volition. I said I need this three days and I’m taking it. How great does that feel? I love myself for this, I do. And I think I’m ready to be the good mother I keep thinking of. Visualizations and guided meditations, and I thought, this is it. You’re alone in the woods, and you stop in the patch of sun between trees, and you meet your higher self there. This being is benevolent, beatific, wise, they’re to guide you.

A snake ran away from me this morning, and I felt bad for men and understood why they invented guns. I was afraid of it. Since nobody is ever going to read these, I can admit that I’m getting a high colonic in a few hours, which suddenly seems the freakiest possible thing a person can do to themselves.

Later I’ll daydream, read, snooze, jerk off, whatever. Let my thoughts entertain me since they persist. I guess I’m afraid. I don’t like some of the social aspects here. I also realize that I lie. I said I’d never been here before, because I’m afraid of appearing spoiled, and because my parents taught me to lie.

They really blew it. I could’ve been a prodigy. I was interested in everything. I was great at math and science as well as art. Remember that both my Aunt Hilda and my grandmother were bitter anxious women. The whole family, all of the families. Boy, what a big bunch of egg suckers.

Woke from a nap before, dreaming my boss flicked me a note that said, “I love you. You’re so incredible and charming. You have to be with me. PS, no means yes.” It was in Frank’s handwriting, with the little hearts.

I’m going to take tai chi now. I hope I’ll get so enlightened I fall over.