February 15th, 1971
What can I say about this moment, this second in my existence?
At this very second, I am lying across a dirty unmade day-bed in a dark little efficiency apartment in Washington, D.C.’s Dupont Circle area. There is trash scattered across the floor. Dishes are sitting in the kitchen sink that has been there since October 7th. A draft is hitting my face and back from the window. A combination of vague, distant traffic noises and music garbled from a hi-fi somewhere in the building seem to move gently across the room. My radio, humming and almost inaudible is on the table at the head of the bed. A sports broadcast is being whispered to me– methodically, efficiently. It is dark, a cloudy, gray dark outside my window. A plane is roaring, rumbling through the night sky.
I am very much alone in the universe all of a sudden. It is a matter of distress of late that my life seems to have become an almost amusing little game called: “TRY TO FILL YOUR LONELY LIFE” It’s quite a bizarre little game– and quite tiring. The rules are quite simple. To begin the game a player must first either realize or accept the realizations that, when stripped bare, his meager, mean little existence on earth is nothing more than a hollow shell– and he is being dragged headlong, like a foaming animal wide-eyed to slaughter– toward a dark, gaping slaughter-house void in the night. Sensing the threatening insanity of the surrounding reality one is ready to begin playing.
First one begins to spend money as quickly as possible. Players often times buy lots of new clothes and they “go out” on the town quite often, spending money as though it were useless. One drinks considerably and loses point if he fails to avoid reality whenever at all possible– such as a free evening. When confronted with such a situation the player generally chooses one of the popular alternatives– one “goes out” with friends and laughs desperately all evening– or one drinks to the point of oblivion– or one uses drugs to the point of mental oblivions. Of course, there are variations on all three choices and one can readily see the possibility of “mixing and matching” then. The one primary object of this game is never never allow yourself to be alone with yourself. This only brings on that silly old superstition, depression, and fear. Incidentally, that’s how one loses the game– when he fails to avoid himself.
I am overcome at times with what appears to me to be the basic hollowness of my life. I sometimes feel so terribly in need of love and need.
This is wrong.
One must be totally contained and self-sustained before one can reach out. Before one can seek out the warmth of earth existence one must settle his long past due bill with the universe that force, that life– that God within himself.
I am trying to settle that payment.
One consciousness must be sacrificed to the other.