160
PARTISAN REVIEW
nitely wasn't thinking, "My brand new maniac ." I felt especially clear
about myself then and what I was aiming for. No more days and
nights of amusement and distraction. I have spent enough years in
waste. I might be wrong, it's just an idea, but an exciting one. I won–
der if I'm not very
possible.
I said, to be seductive, "Into the waves,
one at a time." But he told me not to do anything. Okay, I would sit
tight. We shall see. I hate the words "go away." Someone says "going
away" and I shit. I get so itchy in my usual well-organized fashion.
I want to have it so much. I can't stand it.
Patience . Imagine such a word
in my vocabulary . It stings of deprivation, just the sound. I was the
woman. Heady. Delicious. The only woman. Sitting tight. It's an
experience. To be seductive, I said, "Have I had my interview?" and
to be seductive, he said, "You are wearing fantastic shoes." However,
maybe I should do it myself, I thought. Crank it out myself instead.
To find some surcease from all the men looming in my mind. I see a
bedraggled, perspiring woman in a hot room cranking a machine,
feeling crappy and uninspired, one hand revolving this rickety ma–
chine, and it pleases me. "I cranked it out myself," I tell him. That's
really a lure. But an illusion too. She says to him, "You've given me
an awful lot, I'm terribly appreciative, but I just thought that it
might be better all around for everyone if I could kind of crank it out
myself." When I came back I found his letter. I sensed him in it and
it made me feel hungry, yet I couldn't phone. I had to write with a
pen to put me in closer touch, or at least it felt that way. The phone
is so between.
It
was better with the pen, though it too is between, of
course. I left blasted and weak. I called from the station, couldn't
help myself, not another step unaided. He wanted to know where I
was. I said I was at my astrologer. One can't extract from it the dev–
astation, I told him, but I'm beginning to understand that it's all part
of the process. Everything is . He asked again, "Where are you?" I
said, "Taking a bath ." The third time he asked, I told him . "Victim–
ized by the phenomena." Oh, I'm scared of my stupidity these days .
The only benefit to come out of depression is weight-loss. No effort.
I'm down ten pounds already and jump at loud noises. I keep failing
to be praiseworthy. To walk down the street feeling praiseworthy.
To talk to people feeling praiseworthy . Shake my hand, I'm praise–
worthy. Light this praiseworthy woman's cigar. It's all very new to
me, having to use my own head. It's the last thing in the world I de–
pend on. I mean it's simple : he's weary of me. All feelings and no
meat. It's something I've heard before. His steely kind of fairness.
All the intelligent things he says . The poignant way he tunes in so
