December 19th, 1976
The fact that this journal is nearly over is awesome to me. This book has followed me through an entire year. I flip backward through the pages and find myself at Lynn’s table at 3:00 AM with no home, no lover. My own history fascinates me.
The stigma of having a learning disability. I sit buzzed out to my own music– full of beer and nicotine and amyl nitrate. I contact no lovers. Arlene calls. A friend does not work. Last night’s one night stand doesn’t do the job either. So I sit in solitude and long for something that I can’t really name. The dogs are barking.