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September 2nd, 1977
Last night while making love to Guy, he whispered to me–
“There is so much to do in time”
or was it–
“There is so much to do, in time”
It doesn’t matter– both are beautiful thoughts.
Sitting home– late Friday night– drinking/drinking myself into oblivion again. Sweet oblivion. Janis Joplin film on television. Reading a journal from my days on 18th Street– remembering being a freak. Wondering how I managed to become the production manager for a wealthy retail store like Garfinkel’s.
How did I get to be a 26-year-old so nervous and wound up that I can’t breathe– and sit home and read books entitled “Peace from Nervous Suffering”
Looking for help.