Look at her, she’s bored out of her mind. I’m gonna fucking kill myself.

“The swings? Sure. I mean, aren’t we too large? Won’t our legs go down in the sand and . . . ?”

Go! She asked you to go to the swings with her. Go!

“You want me to push you? I would be honored to push you in the swing. Should we ask that little boy to get off or . . . ? Do you see his mother anywhere? Oh, there’s one free, those little girls are leaving. Okay, I’ll push you. That’ll be great. It’ll be how I see you off. I’ll sort of push you off.”

Another bad pun. She’ll never read your script. Just stay with it, though, don’t keep apologizing. She must hate me now. I sound like someone who wears Vitalis.

“Okay, here we go. Here we go.”

I’ll never forget this in my whole life. I’m making anecdotal history. I’m pushing Suzanne Vale on a swing. People will think we’re in love. Maybe we can be in love.

“Is that high enough?”

Don’t make any puns on the word high. Just let it go. Be quiet. Listen to the wind, the trees . . .

“This is nice, isn’t it?”

Shhhh! Don’t talk. Just enjoy the moment. Be totally in the moment. I hope no one else comes over. I want to burn this image into my brain. I’m pushing Suzanne Vale on a swing in the park next to the drug clinic . . .

DAY THIRTY

I spent the morning in the park with Alex. He’s not a bad guy, really—but he’s not a great guy, really, either. He did push me in the swing for a very long time, though. There are two things that I know for certain guys are good for: pushing swings and killing insects.

It’s such a bizarre scene in my mind: the guy junkie pushing the girl junkie in this little kiddie swing with all these little kids squealing and running around, with their mothers sitting on the benches watching. All those little children and two huge ones.

Alex told me he’s writing a script about the clinic. Being here is probably the most colorful thing that ever happened to him. He should call it Rehab! “Just when you thought it was safe to go back into your coke vial.”

I can’t wait to drive! Maybe I’ll go to the movies tonight. I heard Doctor’s Orders was pretty good. Anyway, I’ve enjoyed writing this journal. Maybe I should start keeping one at home. It would have to be good, though, in case they publish it after my death.

Sid and I are going to an AA dance in the valley on Thursday. Maybe I’m going overboard, but what the hell . . .

I must be brainwashed, because it feels so clean when I think.

Notes on Rehab Movie