MFT: Kansas City

1978.2.25

I guess it was inevitable, with irreconcilable differences, but I don't live in Texas no more under W. Mr. Sawamukai moved me to Kansas City to work with Carl Swearson. It was hard leaving Larry and Michiyo, but it really couldn't be avoided, and I think I knew it all along.

Kansas City is not bad. I have been driving mostly because my legs are wiped out. I can only go for a few hours and then I am utterly fatigued and sleepy and hungry and my spirit gets somewhat negative. It's actually a very depressing situation, but I am trying to maintain myself. That, combined with the internal chaos of the last few months, has really pushed me to my limits.

I was almost dead when I went to Houston. I caught the flu and laid in that tiny bare bedroom in Houston for days. The MFT center was really nothing more than a shack up on short stilts. The ground underneath was damp and it was very cold. We had no heat except for an electric space heater. The place just felt sick; it bred sickness. All I could do was curl up in my sleeping bag and try to sleep and hope the darkness and dankness would pass. Larry and Michiyo were so kind to me, but they were powerless to improve the situation.

Now in Kansas City I am slowly getting stronger, little by little, day by day. It's the dead of winter and very cold, but at least we live in a real house in Gladstone. It feels like a solid dwelling. I may be miserable and depressed, but at least I'm reasonably comfortable.

Soon I will have to go to the doctor to see about my legs. It's been almost a year since they really started to give me trouble.