chapter 22

the next day i decided to find myself some more appropriate
sleeping quarters...maybe even with a bed...having coffee
at the hotel i met a middle aged man who came over to my
table and sat with me...he was american and wanted to talk
about american things...baseball and such...within minutes
we made a connection and decided to embrace the city that
night together.

its fucking awful never having had a father...you keep looking
for a replacement for the rest of your life...then once
you have achieved some level of enlightenment you become
somewhat aware that you will never find such a man...yet
you still continue to look...in spite of yourself...the
inner frustration is considerable...information of eternal
consequence...has eternal pain attached to it.

even three year ago , i would have let him fuck me around
for the rest of the evening...this...person...wasnt interested
in me...he was interested in writing a novel about all the
people that he met during his european vacation...i was
just another chapter...within fifteen minutes i realized
that my hopes of finding acceptance was gone...in two hours
i was completely aware that this guy probably , like most
people , had never really loved anyone in his life...i looked
at him and said good-by .

healing never consists of being freed of our hurt...we always
seem to deal with that for the rest of our lives...what
healing is , however , is being aware of our neurosis...even
to the point of looking down at it from above...being aware
of it fully...then making the correct decision regardless
of our inclinations.

i roamed the streets of nice alone that night...then sat
on my balcony and drank the night away...i looked at the
french skies and thought to myself...it doesnt matter if
my father beat me half silly...god loves me for who i am...what
is left of me...and that is all that matters .