warm in the sun, talking about synergy

Monday, May 6, 1996
11:30am, train

Been a weird couple of days. Had an absolute crank attack again last night. I just don’t know how much longer I can keep up this relationship. Or why I’d want to if it feels so stupid, like a bad play. I just don’t feel like dealing or conversing or anything. Don’t feel like fucking, most of all.

Hate my mother. Was supposed to call her back. Get away. I need a little privacy right now. Could you get off me for two seconds, you fucking pain in the ass? Just don’t want to deal. Well, tough shit. I have to deal. None of it’s volunteering to go away.

I am getting better, and so is my life. I am getting better, and so is my life. Hey, I’m not having a kid soon. I’m not stuck in a job I hate. Things could be a lot worse. That’s not really a joyous thought. Can’t I just sleep until the good part? Wake me when I get to be sane and wealthy and loved.

Later, home

Sitting on my fire escape. I really liked being up on the roof with my new co-workers, smoking a joint around 5:30. Warm in the sun, talking about synergy. I feel pretty good right now.

Ted was just talking about how the world is full of fuckers, and he hates the human race. I feel like Judith likes him better than me. Judith seems to root for him pretty hard. I wish I understood and trusted that better.

Just the fact that it occurs to me so much seems reason enough to end it. Maybe just the lack of faith. I said to Judith, he has no idea, no experience in a long relationship. Judith said, neither do you. Well, geez, thanks, you know? Who can I get to be supportive? How can I support myself? Now I feel annoyed and teary.

Need more change. Feel like the job change was so liberating. Couldn’t the relationship change be, too? I don’t know. I felt okay a minute ago, but I talked myself out of it. How hard has it been lately to keep my thumb out of my mouth? I deserve that.

Wednesday, May 8
10:15am, train

Okay. On my way out the door today I ran back in to get pot.

I was looking at Ted’s crows’ feet. Nothing is solved with him. At one point I felt like there was progress, but then he started telling this long story about work, and I just wanted to kill him. He shuts me out. Insulting. Fake. Not worth my time. His passive-aggression drives me crazy.

Once again came home last night from Hil’s in an ambulatory coma. Did nothing but lay flat on my back in bed, zonked out, dreamed a lot, and woke up exhausted. I’ve got to break this crummy cycle. I bet I’ve written this over and over. Pot in my pocket right now.

In my dream, I told people, I’m thinking of having a baby. And they asked some question like where or how. And I said, in my uterus I was thinking.

The psychic who was at the studio yesterday said stomach problems almost always relate to childhood.

Remember anger isn’t bad unless it’s turned against the self. Anger at other people isn’t bad, it’s good. It means I’m sticking up for myself and not getting shit on anymore.

Dear Ava, I’m beginning to get the sense that for what ever reason, the idea of communicating with me is something really icky to you. And you would appreciate it if I would just understand that and leave you alone, but I really don’t understand it. Which is, I guess, why I keep knocking. If you could eke out even a terse message, I’m reliably out from 10:00 to 6:00, I’d appreciate it. Or maybe we could just go for a walk and actually talk to each other. For some reason, I don’t think it would be that bad and I think we’d both learn something.