I counted 86 books in all. I have been, for better or for worse, committing all my tortured thoughts, feelings and nocturnal dreams to writing in these here journals since circa 1990. That’s, like, 20 years. And I’ve kept them ALL. It’s past time to let ’em go, wouldn’t you agree? For one thing, they take up valuable real estate in my tiny Brooklyn apartment. For another thing, Ew! Why would I want keep so many records of my feverish, prone-to-exaggerate, juvenile drama-queen fantasy antics for future reference? I wouldn’t. In the words of my friend James Berger: Let’s move on.
But just for fun, and posterity’s sake, and to prove I have a sense of humor about myself, and because I know you’re all curious, I post hereunder a random sampling of my oeuvre… I now open to a random page:
DREAM 15 MAY 1998
At home, trying to clean up our rooms but it’s actually Casey’s English flat-mates who came in to help everyone clean and move. I am all excited to get rid of junk and so I keep bringing in books, etc., into the communal dining room. Jessica and Stephanie are helping Casey clean, and Matt, too. They said they would help me but time is running out and I don’t even really want them to help – stuff too private for anyone to go through. The shades were pulled in Casey’s room, but it was getting cleaner. I went in her room and saw a big coconut 3-layer cake with chocolate frosting and then they all got quiet when I came over to pick it up – yummy! I knew it was intended for me by the way they all hushed up and felt that the surprise was ruined. But I didn’t let on that I knew. So I left and went happily back to cleaning. Time to get rid of stuff.
[Most a propos! I am now ready to throw these books out. And coconut cake does sound delicious.]