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March 13th, 1972
Tonight my mind is a huge black bird flapping, gliding through chill darkness across a gaping planet.
Life on the planet earth is pure shit. All life, one’s entire life, is spent, wasted on trying to get somewhere, do something– acquire Oberlin this weekend, Army Times, my life the past year– it’s all this stupid hustle to get something. Everybody wants to be rich, the girls want to be pretty, they want to be clever–
Dear God, I’ve got a full lifetime on this planet– I can’t accept the fact that I have to devote all that time to the social game of becoming more and more.