January 14, 2018:

Summers I'd read, ride my bike, write letters, occasionally take the city bus to porn theaters downtown or on University Avenue.

Reading: in the park, in the bowling alley, on the grass at Mission Bay Park or occasionally at the Hilton or the Pier in O.B. Perry Anderson, Althusser, Macherey, Marx, Freud, Balibar, Karen Horney, Kafka, Burroughs, Kerouac, Braudel, Le Roy Ladurie, Trotsky, Balzac, Zola, Flaubert. The continents I chose to explore.

Bike: O.B., Balboa Park, Point Loma, Shelter Island, La Jolla, UCSD.

Letters: Lise, Jonathan, Nate, Kathy, Lise, Lise, Lise. If I'd been more assertive we'd have gotten together one of those summers. If I'd been less broken we'd have gotten together in San Francisco in 1989. It's a huge regret.

Porn: Candy Stripers, Debby Does Dallas, Through the Looking Glass, F.em> Back then you had to work to watch people fuck on film. Getting to the theater took effort. Sitting in the theater with drunk and desperate people took effort. It was better then.

I remember the taste of french fries at the bowling alley. Sitting in booths studying Althusser. Sometimes with my bike locked up outside, other times having walked.

These memories are vivid not just for the excitement of learning but also for the freedom of not having to support myself. Work and career began in 1989, coincident with breakdown and despair. Granted work and despair typically go together. My days belonged to others, then.

I want a new bike.