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September 3rd, 1971
My book, my old friend…
Today is September third. The nights are getting cooler, and autumn is nearly here again. Again and again and again…
Karen H. and Karen P. just left to drive back to Karen’s parent’s farm in Maryland. Peggy and Ed just went downstairs. Solomon is crouching on the floor in front of me.
I am alone again, for the first time, truly alone– since I don’t remember when.
My head is a cluttered drawer– this weekend I am going to sort it out. I have got to get myself together.
Tomorrow I shall write– and write and write and write–
I will see all of this confusion on paper and it will all become clear. Tomorrow I plan to place myself historically– evolve a sense of cosmic identity– establish and clarify the goals and objectives of my life– set up a system of ethics and morals– develop and ordered lifestyle.
Now I shall run headlong into my nightmares and try to get some sleep.
Sleep well, Larry.
AND WAKE UP BRIGHT
TO THE MORNING LIGHT
TO DO WHAT’S RIGHT
WITH ALL YOUR MIGHT.
Goddam you, Grandma.