I still don't understand...

May 26, 1987

Many things have happened. I don't know what I wrote last time or when but I decided not to look back. I bought this book I think in January this year and now half way through the year I have bought another! Fancy that - my last book took me from September 1981 until December 1987 - most of Aja's life. Well it goes to show you what influence people have over the lives of others. Here's Phebe Hanson telling me to write. I resisted and the pressure was there, she never even was phased. She just was so calm. I write now because of this, because of her patience and understanding , because she is wonderful.

I have learned so much lately. I still don't understand the cause of the heaviness on my heart. I don't understand the weird dreams of killing the kids that I drew in my visual journal. The decapitated heads floating down the creek. The blown away faces on thin, small bodies, and more. I sense I must have dreamt more. I feel it right now, a heaviness on my heart. weighing me down, foreboding something. Who knows?

Driving down the highway on the way to Bayport on Saturday or was it Sunday, I thought of how if we were all to die here, not by nuclear means or anything, but if our civilization was to pass away now, gradually dwindle into nothing, and still survivors elsewhere, and our cities would become lost and overgrown. Highways would begin to crack and trees would crack them further and houses would be lost to one another by the trees and brush and it would be untouched until thousands of years from now people would rediscover this place and wonder about us. Tell stories. Write romantic books about our lives. Make assumptions such as we do about the importance of such things as peoples who lived eons and eons ago. Egyptians, Sumerians, Greeks, Mongolians, Aborigines, Mayans, everyone. It would be all wonderful to discover such a place but it is lost to us. We plunder and can not leave well enough alone. We cannot look and not plunder, to set aside some discoveries for the future inhabitants. It is so stupid that we don't even think about this sort of thing. This is another a priori of man (A priori knowledge or justification is independent of experience - I had to look it up. I am not sure what I meant when I used this term). That the idea of us looking into the future is inevitable because it has been done and we can do nothing to change this within us now.

June 3, 1987

Cris and I went to the library downtown today. I had never been there before. Cindy watched Harrison and ianthe so we could be free without children running around.

We both got a whole bunch of books. I got books on Love and addiction, Ed Gein the murderer, schizophrenia and tried to get a book on self-hypnosis but couldn't find one. That library was very larger. We went out to eat at the Lotus afterward. That was nice.

We seem to not be able to talk while eating. Weird problem. I think the television must be moved out of the kitchen to remedy the situation. We look at each other occasionally but we don't talk.

A few weeks of silence should help us learn to talk while eating again.

That's it. I'll try to move it tomorrow. I think everyone will go into shock. Oh my god! What about WKRP? Oh well, sacrifices, sacrifices!