August 14, 1991
[Chappaqua] It’s done. With the help of Kevin Burget, David and Liz, Mom and her new tenant Stanley, and two Israeli movers from Shleppers, what’s left of my worldly goods is now boxed and stacked to the ceiling in what was once my bedroom.
Now I’m alone, doing laundry and rearranging boxes, and periodically getting blindsided by teenage flashbacks. Even writing in this journal – in this house, on a day like this – is a conditioned stimulus. It sweeps me, mentally and emotionally, right back to the summers of ’85 and ’86, when I was fresh out of college and Prince of Persia was just an idea.
I have no home now. Just a plane ticket.
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After reading this journal some times i wish i was a game designer in late 80′s. (born in 87)