never go home
Tuesday, December 30 1997
og walking punctuated my scanning today. And scanning was, as usual, very boring. Lucky for me, though, I have the means to watch videotapes on my computer screen while I'm working.
I watched The Last Time I Committed Suicide, a tale about the early adulthood of Neal Cassady, the spirit of inspiration for much Beat literature. The movie was full of girls, girl trouble, and bad luck, but (as Matthew Hart mentioned later) it wasn't about the most interesting part of Cassady's life. I wouldn't say Cassady's life in Denver was even as interesting as mine here in Charlottesville. But whenever people are interested, movies get made. Still, I'd really like to see a movie version of On the Road. I'm looking for some inspiration for when I break the last bonds and fly off down foggy railroad tracks, the cool morning sun pushing on my back.
But in the mean time, there is the mundane reality of scanning and working, without a time clock to punch, without a firm line between working and playing. I've discovered something just a little depressing: when you're never at work, you're always at work. Now I notice that whenever I'm not working, I feel guilty, I feel like I should be. It's like wondering if I'm forgetting to breathe. I don't really know if I can live like this.
I'm being haunted constantly by sexual thoughts these days. All day, I attributed this to a couple recent novel erotic experiences (one much less concrete than the other). But then, on consideration, I realize I ate a lot of ginseng tea today, straight from the package. Perhaps what they say about that stuff is true.
Jennifer Wade says ginseng's power as an aphrodisiac is just a myth, but that I should be careful,
"There's a guy in my lab from China who's really into traditional Chinese medicine, and a while back, he decided to do some ginseng studies. While he was conducting the studies, he decided to take some for himself, and he accidentally took a tenfold overdose. He had a fever for almost two weeks...it definitely did not look like fun."
essika called this evening. She was fired today from her job cleaning rooms at the religious retreat, and she sounded unusually bummed out. It's not just being fired though, the whole Philadelphia scene is rotting. No one recovers from their pathetic needy dependencies, and she's disgusted. I think I'll be visiting her soon. That's one advantage of not having to punch a time clock.
n the evening, Matthew, Deya and Angela hung out with me watching the Wonder Years on teevee. Matthew told of how he used to fantasize about Winnie when he was a young adolescent.
We were all pretty happy hanging out together. This new situation may actually be working out. The only problem I have with Matthew these days is that he tends to whine a lot. What with her motherly behaviour, Angela really seems to bring out the infant in him. It's every bit as disgusting as it sounds.
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