March 19th, 1973
I can remember so vividly how unbelievably disordered my life used to be– remember? Remember that basement apartment– the one upstairs– remember the closets and clothes and drawers and floors covered with trash? Weeks– weeks rolling past without cleaning my apartment– filth for weeks– rotten food in the refrigerator– in the disposal.
I’m not sure why– I guess living with Angela and Jesi in New York has some beneficial side-effects. There I was holed up in– trapped in– wallowing in their filth– god that bathroom–
just talked to my mother in the hospital. I worry– I think maybe my mother’s health is a lot more fucked up than I know– than she’s telling me.
She may come to Washington for Acupuncture therapy. she suggested it at least.
My mother says: “You know where I’m at”–
Yes, mother. Goddamit. I know where you’re at.