Comic/Tragic Face

My new used bike for getting back and forth to work.

Keaau, May ‘73
The Bonding Mechanism

Events had made it impossible for me to continue my relationship with
C.S. I moved my tent down to where Eddy was camped. I preferred my
solitude as opposed to witnessing the bonding mechanism move forward
between C.S. and Tim. Living on the beach had become joyless. If it
weren't for my job, I would have left this place long ago. In my
agitated state, I couldn't read books, play my horn, or write. I felt
like a worthless, empty, uncreative slug. The only thing that I was
really sure of was the relentless nausea that ached in my stomach.

When I was around people, especially new people, I would try to be
honest to a fault. If my negative side was recognized and accepted,
liking the rest of me was easy. Sometimes, though, that exaggerated
behavior went so far as to sabotage relationships. That was kind of
where I was at now. I had pushed C.S. so far away that there was no
getting her back. Because of this, I both hated myself and felt pleased
with myself; that is, the comic/tragic face often seen on the movie
screen had now become my face. I agreed with Desmond Morris; love
was a "bonding mechanism," a biological necessity to insure the perpetuation
of the species, and I resolved a long time ago I would never suffer
the nausea of another broken bond. I had never intended my involvement
with C.S. to go that far.


May 30

I put Carol Sue on a 747 non-stop flight to Chicago yesterday. I took
her to the airport and we parted on good terms. I couldn't deny
my feelings. I was hooked by love's magnetism, but something inside
of me wouldn't let the bonding mechanism complete itself. I couldn't
explain it; I just knew it was my fault and that fault wouldn't go away.
The more I loved C.S., the more I rejected that love. By pushing her into
Tim's arms I almost killed what we had. Before she left, C.S. made it clear
that she still wanted to be with me. We agreed to try again. We will,
but not here, and not now.