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February 5th, 1973
Today has been a tightrope gray day of madness for Miss Roberson and myself.
Tomorrow morning I truly intend to get my shit together.
Enough of this dreary whining and moping around. I’ve been leading a stuporous life of somnambulance ever since returning from New York. The sudden shift in energy levels left me high and dry– withering. I perished in that basement apartment for 2 ½ months. It has reached a point where I live in this dreary lonely depression. Each day just getting by. I refuse to succumb to these forces. I refuse to live my life this way.
Tomorrow morning I am going to get up at 6:30– take a great 45 minutes or so to shower and shave– fix oats and toast– then take a fantastic walk over to Gayle’s– have tea– walk back– clean the apartment–
maybe write a letter to my mother
I am going to buy yogurt and after breakfast tomorrow go on a 5 day fast of nothing but juices– the last 2 days nuts and fruit and for three more days vegetables and dairy products.
I am going to spend no less than 20 minutes a day writing in this diary. It may be tedious and sometimes forced– but perhaps the discipline will help spontaneity (huh?)
And I am going to read no less than an hour and a half a day.
And tomorrow I stop smoking.
Or rather I have now.
I have quit smoking cigarettes again.
I will go one year this time. I swear it. One year this time.