“These fragile times will age.”

misquoted from Elton John

so, when I first moved to the Tamoa Bay Area with Alex and Ian, it was 1998, a Harvard Reunion Year, which meant a “Red Book”-the class notes–was being put out, and everyone was being asked to contribute a blurb about their lives since the last reunion. I always got into that and started a post about the “deepening retrograde” since the state hospital. It would havs been very ass-kssing and a way to stay safe.

I read it to Alex and he said no.

i had received a call from an Advocate staffer saying “‘We’ are here” and i didnt want to be confrontational in the condition that I was in.

But Alex said no and i wrote, instead a short blurb borrowing from someone who had something about ” putting out the welcome mat” which was disasrrous because it was bullshit, i didnt mean it, i didnt want to see anybody at all. I wasnt up to it.

but, antenna were raised and there was no way of getting out of it.

I just realized that this is still where i am today, 25 years laterc

Im my anger and frusttation i wrote a long poem about “my mother myself” and ended up publishing it in the 25 (?) th reunion notes when i had nothing to say; which must have been a little bit confusing. So, i dont think i contributed for the next ten years. So, this is the 40th. I dont know if i will have anything to say or if i will ev e n be invited after my antics surrounding the 35th, i hot home from a psych stay and found put i had enough money to make the trip, sort of, my apologies; bit i wasnt ip to it. I am feeling much beyter now after 5 years rest.

But the rest has taken some ardurous forms and continues to do so. Please see my last post. Also, just as i was pressing the upfate button on that, my father came to the bottom of the stairs with news that his best friend has days to live.