May 7, 1982
7:17 A.M. – FRIDAY MORNING – SITTING OUTSIDE MY HOME
I’m high right this minute. My mother left for work early. I went outside and lit my half joint from Monday and smoked it real hard and got a little high. This high is neat, my head isn’t spinning, but it is a little dizzy. I should come down soon.
8:40 A.M.
I’m still a bit dizzy and I better be very discreet. I met Mrs. Chasan and walked up the stairs with her. She asked me if I was happy today. I guess I am since I’m high. Yesterday, I hardly saw Mrs. C. But I met her in the hall on the way to Chem and she put her hands on her hips, stood in the hall erect, and gave me a look like I had done something wrong. I kept asking her “What, what?” And she said she was just teasing me (Wait – no – she said, “Nothing.” And stopped starring and walked away, then I inferred that she was teasing me). I yelled to her, “How is your day?” She put her thumb up after turning around towards me. She smiled. I was glad. If she gets in a bad mood, I get upset. But she doesn’t get mean that often, maybe just once every few weeks. I didn’t see her all day after that until around 4:15 or so. I was sitting outside waiting for my ride. Mrs. Chasan and Sheila pulled into the driveway. Mrs. C. got out and asked if I wanted to take Val for a walk, her dog. Of course I said, “Yes.” I walked Val, it was fun. When Mrs. Chasan was looking for me and found her dog and I, she said Val looked very happy. I’m glad. Today I talked to Mrs. Chasan like normal, I suppose. But I am high. I think that when I’m high, I don’t care about talking to Mrs. Chasan. Monday, when I was high, I hardly spoke to her, but today I am high and I’m speaking to her. I don’t want that. But Mrs. Chasan is being really, really, REALLY nice to me so I’m going to leave well enough alone and not talk to her too much. She said my hair looked beautiful today and asked me what I did to it. My hair is all fluffy, and curled under. And I have a big, fat red bandanna hair band. I wanted to look 60’s-ish and I told her that. I bet I’m paranoid now. I thought through my head that Mrs. Chasan is really important to me, and she shouldn’t be above more than anything else in my life, but sometimes I forget that when I think about her a lot. (But I swear, now I’m high and I don’t care at all. Pot is a great way to not think, just act. I love the way I feel now – very lightheaded). Because Mrs. Chasan may think about me a tad, like she says she does, but she knows better than to think about me a lot, on top of that, she may not possess the energy at all, the way I can produce all the emotion it takes because I love her so much. (I DON’T KNOW WHY – ALL I KNOW IS THAT IT’S A FONDNESS AND A NEED FOR HER ATTENTION – IT IS NOTHING MORE – EXCEPT THAT MY FEELINGS FOR HER ARE SO STRONG, LIKE THEY WERE FOR BARBARA, I JUST LOVE HER, NOT IN LOVE). But anyway, she is having a lengthy discussion outside my conference room door in the library with Daniel. When she mentioned where Sheila and her went yesterday, her voice lowered and when she was done talking about Sheila, her voice returned back to its original decimal level. But I just don’t care. I think I love pot. I wish I could be so high and just lay on a grass top mountain in Salzburg, Austria where “the hills are alive with the sound of music” and oh that song sounds so lovely in my head now! And all God’s animals would gather around with me and sleep at my toes. But what about making love all alone with a beautiful man, the weather is beautiful, everything is beautiful. Sounds good. But I don’t know. Lying with the animals sounded appealing also. Depends how I feel at the time. If I get those feelings for wanting a man, when I’m with a man, and no one is around, then making love right there (among the animals!) sounds good. But if not, then no. (Oh, I must be high now, wow. I love it – but my stomach hurts. It’s because I’m eating so poorly lately). Hope I lose weight by doing this. Going to write later. Going to history now. Bye.
9:40 A.M. HISTORY
It’s great feeling so listless. History class isn’t making me want to cry. (I just realized that I actually have pot in my bag now, sitting in school – Ugh! Patricia, how can I do that? I wouldn’t’ have done that just a month ago).
9:55 A.M.
Boy, I was just thinking, if Mrs. Chasan read this. My God! I wonder what she’d think. She’s great. I really like her.
11:20 A.M.
Wow, how my thinking and feelings change. In English, Mrs. Chasan didn’t seem to really be on top of things. Maybe she was, but she was just acting a little angry. She said a few things to me, but I didn’t take it personally – that’s good because normally I would have. Hope I never do again and I hope no one hates me. (This hurts so much, I feel like crying). Saw Mrs. C. at 3:00 P.M. She didn’t say anything to me. Ugh! She was talking to Sheila and whispering (mouthing) I think it was “call me” while she was pointing her finger. I know how she does it. Wow Patricia! Do you think you can handle that? I don’t know but there’s nothing I can do about it and I’ve got to try. I’ve never done anything this year bad to Mrs. C. I hope that I will be her favorite student-friend when I graduate. I can’t help it that Mrs. Chasan is more important to me than a lot of things that should be. And I’m certainly not so important to Mrs. Chasan. The week was going so well. I didn’t hang around her. Oh well, I’m perceptive, I’ll see what becomes of Mrs. Chasan and her job. Just because Mrs. Chasan didn’t say good-bye to me must not mean she doesn’t like me. I talked to her too much in homeroom. I was high then and I know I did something wrong with them. Oh well, Mrs. Chasan will be friends with whomever she wants. I would like to but it seems no one wants to be my friend. (Oh dear, darling wonderful God, can’t I have Ali back? I want Ali so badly. I wish I were in love. I do. I hope I can lose weight. I want to be beautiful so badly). I suppose I’ll continue to not talk to her. She likes me, just not everyday. Oh, I’m worried now. I could cry. I think I might when I go to bed. I want to tell you all my problems now so I can get them out. Tomorrow morning I will tell you about my evening. Maybe if Mrs. Chasan is mean to me, after a while, I will ask her why. I hope she is sympathetic to me and talks to me. After such good times with her, and with her being nicer even to me, then she couldn’t possibly hate me after that. The way she acted towards me wasn’t fake. But Mrs. Chasan gets affectionate with EVERYONE. I would like to be that way. If I get thin, I will be more liked by the boys in my class. Please! If Mrs. C. starts some mean shit with me, I won’t be able to handle it God. Don’t let her do that, I’ll tell you right now. I’ll do something really bad. I love her. God it’s true. Why though? FONDNESS, FONDNESS, THIS UTTER FONDNESS, A FEELING I CAN’T ACCOUNT FOR. Do I even understand it? I am attached to her. I wish we were sisters! Oh, I wish, I wish. I love her. Gosh, this is ridiculous. The feelings I have seem so natural, they are just there, and very sincere too. My pen just writes this stuff as if I were describing the members of the human body. I wish I had some friends. But I ask too much from a friendship. I just can’t be like everyone else and I do wish that I could! I want to fool around and sing, dance, make fun, laugh, have fun, discuss. I would love that, but I’m so into myself. I have you, my notebook. I’ve got to grow up. I know I must. Oh, I’m sick now. I have a lot more to say tomorrow. I really can’t wait until I write in you again. You are all I have. I’m going to cry now, in bed. Goodnight.
I’m high right this minute. My mother left for work early. I went outside and lit my half joint from Monday and smoked it real hard and got a little high. This high is neat, my head isn’t spinning, but it is a little dizzy. I should come down soon.
8:40 A.M.
I’m still a bit dizzy and I better be very discreet. I met Mrs. Chasan and walked up the stairs with her. She asked me if I was happy today. I guess I am since I’m high. Yesterday, I hardly saw Mrs. C. But I met her in the hall on the way to Chem and she put her hands on her hips, stood in the hall erect, and gave me a look like I had done something wrong. I kept asking her “What, what?” And she said she was just teasing me (Wait – no – she said, “Nothing.” And stopped starring and walked away, then I inferred that she was teasing me). I yelled to her, “How is your day?” She put her thumb up after turning around towards me. She smiled. I was glad. If she gets in a bad mood, I get upset. But she doesn’t get mean that often, maybe just once every few weeks. I didn’t see her all day after that until around 4:15 or so. I was sitting outside waiting for my ride. Mrs. Chasan and Sheila pulled into the driveway. Mrs. C. got out and asked if I wanted to take Val for a walk, her dog. Of course I said, “Yes.” I walked Val, it was fun. When Mrs. Chasan was looking for me and found her dog and I, she said Val looked very happy. I’m glad. Today I talked to Mrs. Chasan like normal, I suppose. But I am high. I think that when I’m high, I don’t care about talking to Mrs. Chasan. Monday, when I was high, I hardly spoke to her, but today I am high and I’m speaking to her. I don’t want that. But Mrs. Chasan is being really, really, REALLY nice to me so I’m going to leave well enough alone and not talk to her too much. She said my hair looked beautiful today and asked me what I did to it. My hair is all fluffy, and curled under. And I have a big, fat red bandanna hair band. I wanted to look 60’s-ish and I told her that. I bet I’m paranoid now. I thought through my head that Mrs. Chasan is really important to me, and she shouldn’t be above more than anything else in my life, but sometimes I forget that when I think about her a lot. (But I swear, now I’m high and I don’t care at all. Pot is a great way to not think, just act. I love the way I feel now – very lightheaded). Because Mrs. Chasan may think about me a tad, like she says she does, but she knows better than to think about me a lot, on top of that, she may not possess the energy at all, the way I can produce all the emotion it takes because I love her so much. (I DON’T KNOW WHY – ALL I KNOW IS THAT IT’S A FONDNESS AND A NEED FOR HER ATTENTION – IT IS NOTHING MORE – EXCEPT THAT MY FEELINGS FOR HER ARE SO STRONG, LIKE THEY WERE FOR BARBARA, I JUST LOVE HER, NOT IN LOVE). But anyway, she is having a lengthy discussion outside my conference room door in the library with Daniel. When she mentioned where Sheila and her went yesterday, her voice lowered and when she was done talking about Sheila, her voice returned back to its original decimal level. But I just don’t care. I think I love pot. I wish I could be so high and just lay on a grass top mountain in Salzburg, Austria where “the hills are alive with the sound of music” and oh that song sounds so lovely in my head now! And all God’s animals would gather around with me and sleep at my toes. But what about making love all alone with a beautiful man, the weather is beautiful, everything is beautiful. Sounds good. But I don’t know. Lying with the animals sounded appealing also. Depends how I feel at the time. If I get those feelings for wanting a man, when I’m with a man, and no one is around, then making love right there (among the animals!) sounds good. But if not, then no. (Oh, I must be high now, wow. I love it – but my stomach hurts. It’s because I’m eating so poorly lately). Hope I lose weight by doing this. Going to write later. Going to history now. Bye.
9:40 A.M. HISTORY
It’s great feeling so listless. History class isn’t making me want to cry. (I just realized that I actually have pot in my bag now, sitting in school – Ugh! Patricia, how can I do that? I wouldn’t’ have done that just a month ago).
9:55 A.M.
Boy, I was just thinking, if Mrs. Chasan read this. My God! I wonder what she’d think. She’s great. I really like her.
11:20 A.M.
Wow, how my thinking and feelings change. In English, Mrs. Chasan didn’t seem to really be on top of things. Maybe she was, but she was just acting a little angry. She said a few things to me, but I didn’t take it personally – that’s good because normally I would have. Hope I never do again and I hope no one hates me. (This hurts so much, I feel like crying). Saw Mrs. C. at 3:00 P.M. She didn’t say anything to me. Ugh! She was talking to Sheila and whispering (mouthing) I think it was “call me” while she was pointing her finger. I know how she does it. Wow Patricia! Do you think you can handle that? I don’t know but there’s nothing I can do about it and I’ve got to try. I’ve never done anything this year bad to Mrs. C. I hope that I will be her favorite student-friend when I graduate. I can’t help it that Mrs. Chasan is more important to me than a lot of things that should be. And I’m certainly not so important to Mrs. Chasan. The week was going so well. I didn’t hang around her. Oh well, I’m perceptive, I’ll see what becomes of Mrs. Chasan and her job. Just because Mrs. Chasan didn’t say good-bye to me must not mean she doesn’t like me. I talked to her too much in homeroom. I was high then and I know I did something wrong with them. Oh well, Mrs. Chasan will be friends with whomever she wants. I would like to but it seems no one wants to be my friend. (Oh dear, darling wonderful God, can’t I have Ali back? I want Ali so badly. I wish I were in love. I do. I hope I can lose weight. I want to be beautiful so badly). I suppose I’ll continue to not talk to her. She likes me, just not everyday. Oh, I’m worried now. I could cry. I think I might when I go to bed. I want to tell you all my problems now so I can get them out. Tomorrow morning I will tell you about my evening. Maybe if Mrs. Chasan is mean to me, after a while, I will ask her why. I hope she is sympathetic to me and talks to me. After such good times with her, and with her being nicer even to me, then she couldn’t possibly hate me after that. The way she acted towards me wasn’t fake. But Mrs. Chasan gets affectionate with EVERYONE. I would like to be that way. If I get thin, I will be more liked by the boys in my class. Please! If Mrs. C. starts some mean shit with me, I won’t be able to handle it God. Don’t let her do that, I’ll tell you right now. I’ll do something really bad. I love her. God it’s true. Why though? FONDNESS, FONDNESS, THIS UTTER FONDNESS, A FEELING I CAN’T ACCOUNT FOR. Do I even understand it? I am attached to her. I wish we were sisters! Oh, I wish, I wish. I love her. Gosh, this is ridiculous. The feelings I have seem so natural, they are just there, and very sincere too. My pen just writes this stuff as if I were describing the members of the human body. I wish I had some friends. But I ask too much from a friendship. I just can’t be like everyone else and I do wish that I could! I want to fool around and sing, dance, make fun, laugh, have fun, discuss. I would love that, but I’m so into myself. I have you, my notebook. I’ve got to grow up. I know I must. Oh, I’m sick now. I have a lot more to say tomorrow. I really can’t wait until I write in you again. You are all I have. I’m going to cry now, in bed. Goodnight.
posted by Grand Inquisitor at 6:41 AM
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