December 10th, 1972

I had no idea when I woke up yesterday that I would find myself transported so suddenly into such a padded chamber of madness.

     But here, my darling, I am.

Every nerve ending in my body is twitching and jerking with malevolence. I feel like closing my eyes and smashing my fists out. I feel like kicking and screaming. I feel like breaking.

Stamped indelibly on each and every unfinished chromosome in my body is the mirror image of my father. Can he know, wherever he is today, that the madness and cruelty curled like a snake in the black cancerous labyrinths of his mind are twitching a perfected image in the organism of his son– miles and years away?

I feel like beating my mother. Tearing and smashing and breaking.

Do I suppose that in this writing I may affect some change in consciousness? That, perhaps I will transform this little torture chamber I’m in into something else?

     Impossible.

Perhaps as days pass something will change. Some chemical altering inside the brain. For now, I can only endure. Try to fix my brain on a certain emptiness.