Ha! This morning I woke to an annoying alarm clock, showered and got dressed, walked to the subway station, and waited on the platform for my train into San Francisco, to work at the magazine. And then I remembered, it’s one of those holidays we celebrate without knowing why. It’s a day off from work.
Well, yippee for that, but I have nothing better to do, so I came back home, read some zines, did something my grandma wouldn’t approve of, and started editing the August issue.
From Pathetic Life #16
Monday, September 4, 1995
Summer is fading now. This room, with the window always open, the fan eternally spinning and churning the air to imitate a breeze, is becoming comfortable. It’s always been too hot, until the last few days, and at the moment it feels warm, instead of sticky and stenchy and stale with sweat. In a few weeks, it’ll be pleasantly cool. A few weeks after that I’ll curse the coldness and plug in my space heater. Winter awaits us all.
The seasons go ’round and ’round, the years accumulate, and I remain alone — by choice, I tell myself. There’s a woman in my life, sorta, but only via letters, and maybe someday in the flesh. She’s far away for now, and we’re friends, that’s all. Maybe we’ll be friends who move to New York City. Maybe not.
Even a friend via the mailbox is better than I’ve known for a long, long while. All my in-person friends are far away. Everyone’s far away, really.
Whatever happens, the one certainty is that feelings and friendships fade, the days grow colder, nights emptier, the wind blows harsh clouds and rain, autumn comes and then winter. At the end of the day and the end of it all, I’ll be alone.
This is an entry retyped from an on-paper zine I wrote many years ago, called Pathetic Life. The opinions stated were my opinions then, but might not be my opinions now. Also, I said and did some disgusting things, so parental guidance is advised.
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