EXCURSUS

I stopped journaling and started drinking last night, which was the beginning of my birthday. A birthday weekend, in some ways, has to be the whole weekend, especially when ones fortierth birthday comes. I couldn't sleep anymore, but then I couldn't really quite wake up. I hd to journal. When I star the journal it calls things to attention like, I have to light a cgarette. I have to take some ibuborfen. i have to just sit here and smoke Part of me wants to change this dull as radio station. I have Ramblings on for backbground noise. It may be too much noise, or the wrong noise. I want to get somewhere. I want to keep this good feeling. I want ot learn. I worry about coming down from this day and this night back into the world where I make only so much money and the days are filled with only so much pleasure and much struggle and where i have to find a lawyer because, though i've always worried about creditors suung me, its the most unlikely one who's popped up. I sent an email to Bree to remind her to write and she wrote back and I was glad that she got it and that it encouraged here.  I feel like there is so much I want to talk about or need to face and it can only hppen in this writing.

I feel uneasy. That is what the writing or sometimes the praying does. It opens me up to my dis-ease and to my need. It takes me to a place I would rather stay away from. But that place, like a bad tooth, is always hanging around, always throbbing through all the other shit. I want to know that something is going to happen on my fortieth birthday weekend.

You have to make yourself write. It's like reaking the dirt. You have to almsot drag yourself to prayer. It is ike icing away the stones. It is no easy thing. I think I will write on blogs, write on the old dirty blog, not only on this one. I do not know if I will use the journal tonight. Tonight i need to tak to people. I need my thoughts to be public. At this moment, I'm not even proofreading All of this writing is full of typos..

Today, on my fortieth birthday I get a copy of the galley of the Boook of the Blessed. It's a deeply sexual book and I feel that deeply sexual things are important, that our sexual fantasies matter, that all of our fantasies matter.