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August 14th, 1979
Night before last, while walking the dogs late at night, I crossed the street as nonchalantly as I could to avoid confronting a gang of perhaps twelve youths. Just as I reached the other side of the street I felt a sharp blow in the back and realized immediately that I had been struck by a piece of wood that fell at my feet– a chunk about three inches deep and maybe a foot long. With one dog on a leash and my own dog not on a leash, there was little for me to do but get the dogs home safely. I have literally not stopped fuming since. That very night, after a tirade to Wendy and Chippy who was visiting, more abuse was hurled at all three of us by some man coasting down the street on a bicycle.
I CANNOT CALM DOWN.
I am a maniac. For the first time in my life I feel as though some complete shift in mentality is at hand. I feel as though I could somehow stop being normal.