I have vowed to never read amm’s journals. She has decades of them. I have no curiosity to read her inner thoughts. But I need something and I thought there was a good chance it would be in her journals. So tonight I brought out the box that had a few from
the late 60’s and then the 80’s to 2005.

I just skimmed. But could not find what I needed. And I became so overwhelmed. And cried because I felt what I needed would never be found.

And it made me feel that much more alone. I let the tears fall onto the
cover of the coil bound papers that held amm’s life in writing.

And I felt so Alone with her thoughts.