6-5-01 Tu 1:56 PM

On another toilet in a place called Duffy's Pub, which seems like a criminal enterprise, judging from the size of the guys at the bar, the tackiness of their suits, and the foulness of their mouths. I was at the Hilton in GL3endale, at a rather unnecessary training for the new math series our school is adopting. I never made it back after lunch. I walked around the corner from the hotel and strolled down Brand, ogling girls from behind my sunglasses, they in their summer dresses, hearts aching on their bare shoulders. I stopped in at Jax, the jazz place. I'd been there once about ten years ago. I had tortilla soup, salad, and a chicken sandwich while I read the paper. Topped it off with a cup of coffee and then continued my stroll down Brand to Colorado, noting the pubs. On the way back, I stopped in one and started writing on the toilet. Now, I'm at the bar, a Jameson's in front of me. I should try to get back to the Hilton before the training is over. I hope I don't get busted. My lost freedom oppresses me.     When I've finished this, I'll read the last story in the Ring Lardner book. I should stop by Hoover, maybe. I'm supposed to meet Mariachi at Phillipe's, though, and Hoover's across town. Maybe there's a good titty bar around somewhere I can kill some time. Senorita Villa is back at the Hilton. As I was leaving for lunch, I stopped down int eh garage to get my sunglasses from my car. I dallied a while and went out a side door so as to avoid seeing anyone who would want to talk to me--and bam! There's Lisa Levine. I ditched her by going into the nearby credit union to get my check card activated, but not before she told me Senorita Villa was there. Maybe Senorita Villa will put on a titty show at her apartment for me. Her place is not far. Duffy's has a fine pool room upstairs: two tables, leather sofas. There's another billiards hall down the street. I should get going, though. I sure would like to see some titties. Why the world so tame on Tuesday afternoons?

 

6-4-01 M 11:31 AM

I typed fifteen minutes a little while ago. I read an account of Jesus’ healing of the Roman centurion’s slave on the shore of Galilee, at Capernaum. “Just say the word,” said the soldier, and Jesus said, “Not even in Israel do I have such faith.” Faith. Ugh. I have to go to LACAS today and ask what to do if we suspect a child is autistic. And should I send out flyers? And the filing cabinets? And the books? I guess that’s it. When I’m done here, I’ll read a surah. Then I’ll have to write a third person page. I’ve got write Jim out of the tow yard. It seems impossible. I’ve finally, thoroughly, written it into a dead end. Why don’t I just accept that this is all I am. Whatever. A hot, ultraviolent radiation glares through the dead sky. The bell rings and lunch is over. The kids are back. I haven’t read the news. I didn’t read much on Saturday or Sunday, either. The Face of the Ancient Orient infers the dawn of civilization near three thousand B.C. in Sumeria. It’s all inference. A smoke would fix me up. A smoke and an orgasm. Yeah, right.  [pencil sketch of the front of Notre Dame cathedral] a beer. What else? I feel this fanatic rage that I can think of nothing, and therefore I am nothing.

Knowledge only makes you more aware of your idiocy, your disgusting existence.

Rimbaud:

“Yes, my eyes are closed to your light. I am an animal, a nigger. But I can be saved. You are fake niggers; maniacs, savages, misers, all of you. Businessman, you’re a nigger; judge, you’re a nigger; general, you’re a nigger; emperor, old scratch head, you’re a nigger: you’ve drunk a liquor no one taxes from Satan’s . Sizzstill.”

“I am no prisoner of my own reason. I have said: God. I WANT FREEDOM WITHIN SALVATION: how shall I go about it?

(I have a heart but no balls)

“But I am sill alive! Suppose Damnation is eternal! A man who wants to mutilate himself is certain damned, isn’t he? I believe I am in Hell, therefore, I am. This is the catechism at work. I am a slave of my baptism. You, my parents, have ruined my life, and your own. Poor child! – Hell is powerless against pagans…let me fall to nothingness.