Englewood Cliffs, NJ

I lie in my room. My room lies in a mess. But it’s not my room, it’s not my mess. It’s not my home. I travel lightly to make it easier to go back and forth from Ohio and New Jersey. To travel lightly I throw things away. I purge.

In my room are dregs, skeletons, people, friends, lovers, myself, left by the wayside and flow like water into the sewer on a sunny Summer afternoon on an abandoned suburban block. I’ve really lost it.

I shed skin and it piles high. So much to throw away. I glide my sight along a row of clothes that I used to wear. I wouldn’t wear those clothes anymore. This one I wore when . . . This was taken off by . . . This was touched by . . . This one was Shiho’s. I’m only wearing grey these days.

Posters that once spanned every inch of wall space now lie in a corner. In how many positions has that desk been moved? It’s ironic how a lot of this furniture was headed for the garbage and ended up here. Memories pile high. And all of it will be left behind for someone else to acquire or throw away. This is not my room.

If I could go back. That closet full of clothes would not be there. Some of the nicer shirts, none of those jackets, good lord. All the shit on the floor would get chucked. How did all this shit get here anyway? What do we acquire and accumulate in our lifetime? What “riches” do we amass? What does our greed and instinctive attachments bring us? What do we fill our houses with?

Houses. Warehouses for our memories. Evidence of where we roam, where we’ve been, proof of how worldly we are; we fill our houses thinking it’s a bastion of some sort of permanency. Eventually you run out of corners, closets, attics, and basements in which to stuff shit. I’d never have a place like that. Shit, all of it shit.

Oberlin, OH

Life is suffering.

It’s been over a year since the first entry in this journal. I figure a year from now, maybe I’d want to see what I was doing a year ago.

This past semester at Oberlin was pretty bad overall. I fucked up again and my graduation might be delayed. Again. I don’t know, I don’t really care. I spent Commencement Week here with Sakuko. I took her back to Columbus yesterday. The steel drum band has its traditional, pre-Commencement Illumination gig tonight, and then I leave for New Jersey. I’m going to be doing Summer School at Brown and staying at Bob’s. After Sakuko’s Summer session, she’ll probably come to Providence to stay for a while; see more of the U.S.



My romantic life is perfect. My academics are in shambles. My social life is non-existent. Family life is the same shit. Mentally I’m numb, confused, also happy. Oh, I guess that sort of sums it up. I really think my mental health is better now; there is a difference. Not perfect, no need to be. It’s pretty much where I want it. I still would rather be dead, but I can deal with being alive. I am sort of disgusted with myself but I don’t feel things as extremely as I did at the beginning of the year. I still hate people, people still suck, but I can’t say that I’ve gotten close to anyone except Sakuko.