Richard Grayson
A 19-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From April, 1971
In Elihu’s deserted office, Shelli and I hugged and kissed for a while, and then we went to the ‘Spigot’ office and found Ivan.
A 19-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From March, 1971
We rode into Chinatown, kissing at every red light, almost.
A 19-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From February, 1971
Shelli is a very sexy girl — to me, anyway. It’s a good feeling knowing that I can have a heterosexual relationship.
A 19-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From January, 1971
Tonight Shelli said, “I’ve got you figured out.” I doubt that.
A 19-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From December, 1970
After a recess, I took the stand and corroborated Mark’s testimony, adding that Alice – who’d come in there just to look for a job – did manage to look at the bulletin board. That showed office services hadn’t been suspended.
A 19-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From November, 1970
Kang and I were sitting around when this heavy, 25-ish girl comes in and asks if we’re the newspaper. I told her yes, and she said she was a defendant in the Seattle 8 conspiracy trial. I whisked her into Elihu’s office and interviewed her for half an hour.
A 19-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From October, 1970
People have to rid themselves of old ideas about sex, but it will take time. But that’s coming from a guy who’s pretty hung-up with sex himself.
A 19-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From September, 1970
I’ve been exercising with the barbells for weeks now, and my muscles are beginning to show for it. I don’t have a fantastic build, but it is kind of sexy.
A 19-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From August, 1970
This afternoon, I relaxed and read Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice, a beautiful story. I’m attracted to younger boys like Tadzio; perhaps I’m trying to regain my lost innocence.
A 19-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From July, 1970
I left the theater in a good mood, whistling all the way home. Right at the moment, I don’t care who knows I’m gay — except, perhaps, my family.
A 19-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From June, 1970
On the Mill Basin bus coming home from the station, a very good-looking boy came over and sat down next to me […] He sat really close to me and I had a desire (too weak a word) to embrace him.
An 18-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From May, 1970
I found Peter very attractive this afternoon, and I got the feeling he could also be gay. Am I ready for that kind of relationship? Sometimes I feel an overwhelming need to hold another human being in my arms.
An 18-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From April, 1970
I still haven’t decided which way I’m going to go; even bisexuality has its problems. I expressed my twin fears about asking a girl for a date: that she will reject me, and more importantly, that she will accept me and I’ll have to be masculine and make out with her.
An 18-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From March, 1970
Lately I’ve been reading that masturbation is good for you, and I believe it — probably because I want to.
An 18-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From February, 1970
He can be called for basic training at any time and probably won’t finish the term. I consoled him with the thought that four months on a base in the South is better than a tour of duty in Vietnam.
An 18-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From January, 1970
Why must the government torture our young men?
An 18-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From December, 1969
June 4th was the twentieth date picked for the draft lottery. I’ve never been one of the luckiest people. But I’m ineligible for this year’s lottery.
An 18-Year-Old’s Diary Entries From November, 1969
I came home and watched soap operas that I hadn’t seen in month. Nothing has changed.