Go Ask Alice by Beatrice Sparks Page B

very important anymore. Doris has a whole can of pot so we’ll have joints for a long time. We were kind of stoned and everything seemed up even though my ass is still dragging.
    (?)
    It’s good enough to just be alive. I love Coos Bay, and I love acid! The people here, at least here in our section of town, are beautiful. They understand life and they understand me. I can talk like I want and dress like I want and nobody cares. Looking at the posters in the store windows, and even walking around past the Greyhound bus stationto watch who is coming in is groovie. We went by a place where they make posters and I’m going to help Doris cover the walls when we get a few crumbs together. We stopped at a Coffee House and the Digger Free Store and the Psychedelic Shop. Tomorrow we’re going to see the rest of the sights. Doris has been here a couple of months and she knows everything and everybody. I was amazed when I found out that she was only fourteen. I thought she was a very small and immature eighteen or nineteen.
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    Last night Doris was really low. We’ve run out of pot and money and we’re both hungry and the damnable rain has started puking up again. This little one room has only the one burner stove which doesn’t seem to give out any heat at all. My ears and sinus cavaties (see, I know, I watch TV, or used to) all feel like they’ve been poured full of concrete, and my chest must surely be bound with a steel band. We’d walk someplace and try to get a free meal or thug something but it’s hardly worth the effort in the rain, so I guess we’ll just eat noodles and dry cereal again. We’ve talked about how we hated the tourists and the phonies and the beggars here, but I think I’ll go join the ranks tomorrow and try to beg enough bread for a little food and a fix. Doris and I really need both.
    (?)
    Oh, to be stoned, to have someone tie me off and give me a shot of anything. I’ve heard paregoric is great. Ohhell, I wish I had enough anything to end the whole shitty mess.
    I’ve been asleep and I don’t know if it’s the same day or week or year, but who the hell cares anyway?
    The goddamned rain is even worse than yesterday. It’s like the whole sky is pissing on us. I tried to go out once, but my cold is so bad I was chilled to my ass before I’d even gotten to the goddamned corner, so I came back and went to bed with my clothes on, trying to curl up enough so my body heat would at least keep me from dying. I guess I’ve got a high fever, because I keep drifting off — that’s the only beJesus thing that keeps me from croaking. Oh, I need a fix so bad! I want to scream and pound my head against the wall and climb the damned dusty, faded stringy curtains. I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to get the hell out of here before I really blow my cool all the way. I’m scared and lonely and I’m sick. I’m as sick as I’ve ever been in my life.
    I tried not to let myself think of home till Doris got started on her screwing life’s history, and now I’m really falling apart at the seams. God, if I had enough money I would go back where I came from or at least call. Tomorrow I’ll go back to the church and ask them to call my folks. I don’t know why I’ve acted like such an ass when I’ve always had it so good. Poor Doris has had nothing but shit since she was ten years old. Her mother was married four times by the time Doris was ten and had humped with who knows how many men in between. And when Doris had just turned eleven her current stepfather started having sex with her but good, and the poor little stupid bastard didn’t even know what to do about it because he threatened to kill her if she ever told her mother or anyone else, So she put up with the sonofabitch balling her till she was twelve, Then one day when he had hurt her pretty bad shetold her gym teacher why she couldn’t do the exercises. The teacher had her taken away and put into a juvenile home till they could find a