but finally i remembered this thing todi told me when he was really mad because i hadn't woken him up to go somewhere, because every time i tried to wake him up he told me to fuck off. anyway, he said, of course he wanted to go, we should have gone. when do you ever go somewhere and then regret it? which is kind of true. you may have doubts about doing something drastic but once you go ahead and do it everything is fine, or at least something interesting happens.

donna and i are in favor of looking at everything as a potentially interesting experience. so, off to utah.

i realized that the main reason i didn't want to go was that i felt guilty for not doing all the things right away that i told my parents i'd do, because they were so amazingly nice when i went home and went through withdrawal, and they were still really nice after i told them all my sordid secrets, and basically... they're just really nice and give me so many things. anyway, i feel so guilty now doing things that they don't want me to do, after all that. but then i thought that what i'm doing, which is, postponing things for a few weeks so i can travel, isn't really that bad and i'm sure they'll get over it. they seem to get over things pretty well. it sucks when your actions are ruled by guilt, anyway, that's no way to live.

but what really helped, because even after several agonizing phone conversations i was still crying, was taking some klonopin so i could stop crying and start packing my things for utah. there's nothing like substituting one drug for another, eh? klonopin let me rise above the guilt momentarily so i could stuff things in bags.

we are going camping in the desert in southern utah by crazy deserts and rock formations and hot springs. c. is a very meticulous traveler and has everything perfectly ordered in the car. tent, water, food, etc. i am more the type to pack camera, pens, paper, rubber stamps, ink, sewing materials, nietzsche, baudrillard, and too many pretty dresses. who knows where i'll end up.

it's funny, ever since last night when i went loopy and started carrying Fred, the stuffed cat, all over the house with me, my desire to do heroin has completely disappeared. i mean, this is the first time i've had no desire to do it since before i tried it. poof! and this morning i could feel my personality coming back. hello, world! ann marlowe says "what was toughest about withdrawing was realizing the largeness of the life I had shut out." i think about that constantly...

Away then: it is time to go. A voice spoke softly to his lonely heart. Yes; he would go. He knew his part...
Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.