went through one of the boxes of stuff from storage, from Rantoul.
Lots of letters and pictures and cards. Thompson Twin calendar and postcards. an Associated Student Bodies calendar.
I feel like I'm not a good person after reading some of them. A disappointment to so many people, including myself. Guys I was somewhat in love with.
Why can I not keep writing regularly. There are so many people I've had some correspondence with and then just stop.
Xigi MacLeod: a roommate in San Francisco and Kansas City. Hitch-hiked from SF to KC one time with him. (!)
Memory? Love? sometimes, I think I don't really have either. A lot of my memoreis almost seem like a movie. I remember doing something, but not how I felt at the time. There are bits and pieces, but I don't know if I really remember the full life. It feels like something is missing, some key thing.
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