February 13, 1991 - Biak, Indonesia - Journal

Roosters crowing at 5:11 a.m. I walk onto the veranda of the hotel and look out on Cendrawasih Bay. There are so many stars up above, I can see the islands silhouetted by the Milky Way. To the east dark as well. Sunrise not for another hour and a half. I have a slight hangover from a boisterous Saturday night drinking with two Japanese sailors and Larry Smith. Our conversation mindless. We shared it a thirst for beer and I wandered to the hotel safe and sound. Stripped off my clothes in the hotel room, turned on the fan, got underneath the mosquito netting and fell into bed with 10 toes pointing to heaven.

I hadn't shut the mosquito netting too good. I have bites all over my body. I turn on the BBC World Radio. The world is at war, as the coalition gets ready to invade Iraq. George W Bush is pissed off about Saddam trying to assassinate his father. The ex cokehead wants to prove he's a man. I wish you could do it another way maybe another time.

I change to the France International. They're playing music. Serge Gainsborough in fact. Wars mosquitoes, Biak, Serge rules over them all.

I could easily catch a plane to Bali today, but Larry Smith has returned from java. His new crankshaft for his boat is coming by ship. He suggested we cross the island to a beach on the north shore with his Indonesian girlfriend. She doesn't speak much English. She smiles a lot. I know that trick from having lived in Paris without any French for the first three months. Larry says there are waves there and he has two boogie boards. I'm in no hurry to circumnavigate the globe. I don't have to be back in America, until my money runs out sometime in May or June. Traveling Indonesia is not expensive. Especially since I'm traveling alone. Knowing no one is waiting for me back home or any place where I'm going I'm more ghost of passing interest, although if I was with a woman i wouldn't be able to turn left or right or just stay in place. I'd have to think of somewhere to go some place to be something to do. Come to think of it, I'll make that trade off in a second, but the only women I love are the ones in the past or too far gone from my caresses, so it's me on my own traveling around the world.

Enough moaning self-pity doesn't get you anywhere. You're trying to be a writer. Or am I?

Rick and Caroline were a cute couple in Hawaii. John and I met them at the airport in Honolulu. I thought about going to Kauai with them, but was more enthralled with going further east into the Orient, so I can write. I have to start rewriting North North Hollywood soon. Once I get to Ubud the cultural center of Bali. No beach scene in that town. Plenty of surf south of there in Kuta Beach, Ulu Watu, and Sanur according to the Rough Guide. I love distractions from writing. My mind is clear of everything, except the drink. Thankfully there's no drugs out here.

February 13, 1990 - Los Angeles - 1990

Another sunny day in LA the different Paradise coming tomorrow I pack my bags with my heavy winter clothing mail it off to Paris. At the saying goodbye to Cindy to LAX evening flight to Honolulu. From here on end go backward glances are allowed go only in the direction the Setting Sun.

My stay in LA I basically spoke with or saw everyone who I intended to contact although I wish Lisa Johnson or Ann Borchette were here, but both of them have vanished from my life without a foreign address or. telephone. I haven't seen either in over a decade. Those years must have touched them as they have touched me.

Yesterday Alice return my phone call have her sitcom and I said, " I saw you on TV the other night. You're pretty funny. Actually you were very good. But you always had a good hand at comedy."

"Which show was it?"

"I only kept it on long enough to see you, then I switched to a National Geographic special." I actually turned in the commercials came on. I hate the ads on the big channels NBC CBS ABC. There was nothing on them I wanted to buy.

Alice is breaking it big on TV. THe second lead in a sit-co. Her true Talent is the theater and her one woman shows. I don't understand 2001 and I MacArthur prize. She's a big hit in the Avant Garde in gay scenes, but even my mother has seen her on TV.

Television is sell out, like Holden Caufield in the catcher in the Rye saying that is older brother the Hollywood to be a w**** writing screenplays. I only wish I could sell out somehow, but no one wants to read my journals not even me.

No commercial value. No sellout. And I have plenty of no commercial value. Alice was always more ambitious than me then again who isn't. She always has been funny and on TV she didn't look different from 10 years ago hello I couldn't see cat scratch on her cheek I love her breasts Andy remark before I left New York," where her breasts always that big?"

"To tell you the truth I can't remember." I thought they were smaller.

We took a drive earlier in the week to see a side of Charles Manson murder. Something told me it wasn't the first time to the house the LA Bianca murders. She's wearing a dark suit sunglasses very androgynous. I don't understand the fascination with murder scenes some women have. Must be because they expect to be a victim sometime from some crazy male who wants to kill all women.

There is no sexual tension between us. Last year she showed up at Kathy Underhill and my birthday party happy Elms upstate. Until that day I had been the enemy of this all women Hood friendship with Kathy reprieve.

During that visit Alice didnt speak about much how's Susan Rowe I just asked her for 3,500 to pay for her rent. Her and her husband for 2 months late on their place in LA. They like many people who weren't from New York to seek a New Life without having a job in hand.

I detested her friend back in New York and I still don't like her I told Alice," the tough call will you give the money or not, but don't let her bully you with guilt. Especially if you don't want to pay the money I should have it to give."

"It's not the money. It's just that I'm constantly bailing her out," Alice replied and laughed a joke her friends dilemma and how they have sort of a blanche dubois- Morticia Addams relationship every Neurosis shared by the two is stepped on constantly. I let us speak without interruption and she batted the pros and cons of giving her the money until she finally reached a moment of silence and I asked," would you really be hurt if your friendship didn't exist?"

Like our love no longer existed, except as memories.

Not really she answered without much thought however the guilt of letting a friend go to hell not her face. I wanted to explain about how Bridget York bully me in Paris but it was too long a story and I just listen casted my vote with her father and boyfriend give the money.

Later when I got to Scotty's he told me how much a player in the sitcom gets per episode at least $30,000 per show. Dallas has to be getting at least six figures a year to sell out to TV.

I almost called right thing but I never got to the telephone.

I've lost my purple jersey which maybe I Hunter Paris and I can't so another day ends find my driver's license. Somehow my mother had a copy and she's going to afford to me in Bali.