March 21st, 1976

[continued]

Mentally and emotionally I am drained. I told Bobby I would really appreciate being home alone this afternoon, so he left. I just need to be alone. Perhaps it’s the after-effects of all the booze and dope and speed and poppers– but mentally I am just a blank. I can just sit and stare into space. My apartment is a wreck. My kitchen is a nightmare. And I feel so passive and apathetic. I get up periodically to do something or to start cleaning and I wander around for a while and lay back down.