I continue to post journal entries from my journal twenty-five years ago. Back then, I was leaving my job as a computer consultant to travel. Not all of the entries are all that coherent, but I’m posting most of them as is.

January 23, 1983: Gone is the intensity I once had. Gone too is that religiosity. Looking in the eyes of people whose approach to Christianity is the starting point of what I detest. Live a complicated life so that those who don’t live can live through you. Story: Hacker breaks security, discovers industrial espionage. Cynical Resolution.

January 24, 1983: Vacation day. Have I burnt myself out? Striving for relaxation and intensity. Blood pressures seemed higher. Is private space possible? Roommates next door, friends in the mind. Victim of the aesthetic realists. Soho Chainsaw Massacre. Puking on a gallery window. Am I burnt out? Spent? Wasted? Dead? Or merely silent? I’ll not write more now due to my spaciness.

January 25, 1983: Freakdom and Scotch on Robert Burns Birthday. Jimbo called during party. Sounded like Doug. Steve Wilson: Chaz and Steve here. Joys of Decadence. The women I’m interested in. Riding the train as an outlaw. Goodnight.