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Diary of a Young Artist

Dec. 1962, New York City

[reprinted in Mirror: December, 1962, Bowery loft, New York City]


Tonight I tried for the first time in weeks to play my banjo and it rattled and buzzed and I missed and got bugged and beat my hands against the wall and I can't sing and can't get straight and can't clear my head and stay loaded and want to go home and that is somehow impossible and I can't understand why it is but it is and I can't even get up in the morning to look for work and you are giving me a guilt complex and staring across a continent at my behavior and frowning and want me to hurt and scheming to give me pain and fuck it everybody always wants me to do something and I am going to give up on the whole scene as I am not worth a shit for any purpose except to fuck up and therefore thats just what I'm doing and if you don't like it well I'm sorry because I'm beat and I don't want to try and don't care about anything. Before when I fucked up you pulled a lot of evil shit on me and schemed to crack me and now baby I just couldn't care less because nothing is getting through to me as I am not available for your little torture games. I am bugged and tired of trying and doing what I hate and working and not getting payed and sucking ass and I am not going to do a thing to raise money and may in fact never even leave this room again.

Mel Lyman