September 1st feels like the beginning of an era. Sunday I move into my apartment. Last January when I began this journal and titled it “Changing”– I was completely unaware of the intensity and completeness of the change I was encountering. Late Thursday night. I sit on my sofa in front of whirring window fan thinking of the next few days. The point of this journal is that someday it will be read. Tonight let me record the peace, the blessing of my days. Tonight I made love to Guy– my forbidden love. My man. Hours of sweet shadows flickering in candlelight across his face. Soft music and bourbon and water and love flying through my air.
September 1st, 1977
September 1st, 1977
September 1st, 1977
September 1st feels like the beginning of an era. Sunday I move into my apartment. Last January when I began this journal and titled it “Changing”– I was completely unaware of the intensity and completeness of the change I was encountering. Late Thursday night. I sit on my sofa in front of whirring window fan thinking of the next few days. The point of this journal is that someday it will be read. Tonight let me record the peace, the blessing of my days. Tonight I made love to Guy– my forbidden love. My man. Hours of sweet shadows flickering in candlelight across his face. Soft music and bourbon and water and love flying through my air.