This comes straight from my prison diary, which was not originally intended for public consumption.  I find it useful to post pages here on my blog, as your comments and questions help facilitate and catalyze my remembering and writing.  Bear in mind that to save paper and time, I tended not to repeat in my diary things I had already written in letters (and I saved carbon copies of every letter I wrote).  So a lot of things that aren’t in the journal will be in my book.

First, here are links to previous installments, to provide a bit of context:

Part 1: 17-21 February 1994
Part 2: 21 February 1994 (continued)
Part 3: 22-23 February 1994
Part 4: 24 February 1994
Part 5: 25 February 1994

Now we resume where we left off:


Sat. 26 Feb. 1994
post 8 a.m.


I had a dream last night that I was in Roger Waters’ front yard.  Dave Gilmour lived across the street.  Roger and I were talking.  Dave’s wife came over trying to coax Roger with sweet talk and a gift into coming to a party celebrating the new Pink Floyd album, which Roger had no part in.  We walked away from her in disgust.  Roger began singing the lyrics to an unrecorded song he had just written.  It was some of his best work (which is saying a mouthful).  I kept bugging him by screaming out such things as “David Gilmour is a dick.”  I knew I was being rude.  And I was really into what Roger was singing, but I had no control over my voice.  I knew he was irritated with me, but he said nothing and kept on singing.  I wish I could remember the words.  I know it began with “Stay off of my sidewalk” or something like that.  I was thrilled to meet him and tried too hard to make a good impression.

*  *  *

post 9 a.m.

Summer
    and I wonder
Summer
    rain and thunder
Summer
    please tell me why
Summer
    you had to die

*  *  *

11:30 a.m.

I finished Pam’s letter.  We got another free envelope each; I’ll mail Pam’s in it.  Everyone else must wait.
    I’m also continuing in Bhagavad-gita.  It is much different without Prabhupada’s comments.  Now I see more greatness in the book.  ISKCON spoiled it by accenting bull-shit and limiting application.  Some of the information Prabhupada gave helped my understanding; but most of it alternately complicated and over-simplified the Gita.

*  *  *

“One who sees inaction in action, and action in inaction, is intelligent among men.” (attributed to Krishna, Bhagavad-gita 4:18)

“…if one is able to tolerate the urges of the material senses and check the force of desire and anger, he is a yogi and is happy in this world.” (attributed to Krishna, Bhagavad-gita 5:23)

*  *  *

Bhagavad-gita as it is … is better than Bhagavad-gita As It Is.

*  *  *

2:50 p.m.

The inmates downstairs are using the telephones now.  Hopefully, those of us upstairs will get to this evening.

*  *  *

post 3 p.m.

I’ve only flown in two airplanes in my life.  My first flight was from Cleveland to Winston-Salem, North Carolina.  The next was from Winston-Salem to Columbia, South Carolina.  The first went amazingly well.  Near the end of the second, I had to use a barf-bag.  My nerves finally caught up with me, I guess, from leaving home for the first time and entering the Marine Corps.

*  *  *

8 p.m.

I just finished talking to Mom.  She said Pam was there earlier, but went home because Mom wasn’t there yet.  She had Ben send me a money order, but he didn’t put her name and address on it.  I hope they accept it here.  I hope I can reach Pam at Mom’s tomorrow.


[I didn’t write as much this day as I did on some previous days because I ran out of paper.]

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