Lipton’s Journal/February 1, 1955/417
My sexual scar. That is, a part of me has always seen sex as a pussy wound. Mmmmm. I meant to write pus—sy. So, chasing the dirty I felt excitement and then guilt. Now, with guilt eased, there is less excitement. (Perhaps…this is only for the last few weeks, at most the last few months as a tendency.) In other words, once the dirt is taken out of sex, I see it as brother-sister relations. Platonic. Which is why I get dirtier all the time to apparently less effect. I just feel tender. Even in the last ball, I felt tender toward the other girl as if she were my child. But, I mustn’t go too far with this. The few times we’ve made love in the last month without Lipton’s were pretty Goddamn hot—and without even a trace of guilt afterward. The effects of brother-sisterliness come out with Lipton’s. The only exception is the love we made Sunday night which was without Lipton’s and comparatively un-hot. I may be reading much too much into this. On the other hand, one of these days I am going to sit down, lie down, and free-associate on it. For example, why in hell am I thinking more and more of a secretary. Why do I put out feelers to Barbara. Why the note a couple of weeks ago about secretary and wife?