INTRODUCING... Across The Universe

Labels: introduction

HERE, THERE AND EVERYWHERE, October 27, 1967



Is there anybody going to listen to my story
All about the girl who came to stay?
She's the kind of girl you want so much,
It makes you sorry.
Still, you don't regret a single day.
Ah, girl...


My name is Jude Feeny and this is my story. I won’t spend too much time talking about my past since it’s full of growing up as a lad with only a mother trying to find the love of another. Martha, My Dear mother. I hated that all of the men left because of me. I never cease to scare them off…ev’ry time. That my life as a limey, yeah a shipyard worker. It was okay, I guess, but all it really gave us was loaves of bread and butter everyday. It wasn’t really all that great. The truth is that I kept telling myself to escape and I had enough to do it. But why hadn’t I already? If I stayed here forever with nothing, I’ll say with much regret When I’m Sixty-Four, "why didn’t I leave?"

The only problem was I didn’t have nothing. I had some things. I had me mum and me girlfriend, Molly. I would have a rubber soul if I deserted them like my father did me. Because I know for sure that I won’t be rushin’ back here. But I’ve Got A Feeling something will happen to me that’s worth the lonely-hearted trip.

Labels: journal entry

I’M HAPPY JUST TO DANCE WITH YOU November 3, 1967

I told both of the people I hold dearly to my heart that I’m leaving them and jumping ship in five days. My mom light-heartedly joked, "Finally, when you’re gone I stand a chance with the leftover men in Liverpool." I knew she understood my desire for something more in this world. On the other hand, Molly didn’t take the news the same way. Her eyes floated with tears when she said, "Tell Me Why". Of course I really couldn’t tell ANYONE the real reason why I was going off to America. I wanted to find the man that left me here all these years. He broke me before he completely made me. My father, Wesley Huber I was told his name was. He was stationed here during the war and had a "good run" here. All I could do was let Molly assume I was leaving because of her. But I didn’t like the thought of that.

Just when I thought the decision couldn’t get any harder, Molly made one last attempt to keep me here and whispered:

Hold me tight
Tell me I’m the only one
And then I might never be the lonely one
So hold me tight…tonight.
It’s you…
I don’t know what it means to hold you tight
Being here alone tonight with you
It feels so right now hold me tight…

…and that’s what I did. I held her tightly in my arms leaving nothing but the love that was in the air.

Labels: journal entry

I’LL BE BACK November 10, 1967

T’was The Night Before I was to set sail and nothing was enough to change my mind about it, but it was a close call. One of the hardest things I have to deal with is leaving Molly and she’s not making it any easier. Tonight was our last night together and all she gave me was a Ticket To Ride on a train of guilt. Too bad there were no affordable railways to the Princeton address that led me to my father.

“Who will take me out next week, Jude?”

For all I knew, it better not be Phil Scully. But on a more serious note, what would she do when I’m gone? Most importantly, what will I do? It’s All Too Much to think about. But for the moment I’ll spend the rest of my time drying her tears and swiping the hair out of her exasperated face.

Close your eyes and I'll kiss you,
Tomorrow I'll miss you;
Remember I'll always be true.
And then while I'm away,
I'll write home ev'ry day,
And I'll send all my loving to you.

I'll pretend that I'm kissing
The lips I am missing,
And hope that my dreams will come true.
And then while I'm away,
I'll write home ev'ry day,
And I'll send all my loving to you.

All my lovin' I will send to you.
All my lovin' darling I'll be true.

Labels: journal entry

GOT TO GET YOU INTO MY LIFE, November 17, 1967

I’m finally here. I’m so close, yet so far from him at least. I met some blokes in which some of them became sort of my ‘road mates’ on my journey. They probably just felt that I was nothing more than an extra passenger in the car, but still it was something to think about until I arrived at Princeton University.

I felt like a kid again, having that feeling of excitement, eager to meet my dad. But it wasn’t going to be a smooth ride. That’s all I have to say.

Labels: journal entry

ANOTHER GIRL, November 24, 1967

[UNIT: CONICS]

I didn’t expect to be so welcomed and taken care of in a new place, especially by strangers. I did what I came here to do. I jumped ship from Liverpool to America to see the man who abandoned my mother and I when I was just a wee bun in the oven. I browsed for a Wesley Huber via army records in the archive at the library. As I said, it led me to a Princeton U address. I had it in my head that he was some kind of Einstein, and automatically assumed he was some big-shot ivy-league professor now, but that’s foolish of me. I see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. It turns out that he’s just a working stiff like meself. It was okay though. I told him how I felt growing up without a permanent father and he tells me how he’s grown into a man without knowing he’s had a neglected son. I threw a couple of impulse insults at him, blaming him for being alone, but generally I knew I still loved him. Why did I come all the way here to do just that? Merely to let us know that both of us exist.

In no particular rush to go back to shipyard work and English pubs, I stuck around for a while. Like I mentioned, the hospitality and newfound warmth had to come from somewhere. His name was Max Carrigan. He looked pretty clean cut, but who knows, he could’ve murdered his granny with a hammer. We were cruising around the roads for a bit before we picked up his sister. I was well aware I had Molly in Liverpool, but there was just something about her— about Lucy. She was as radiant as a diamond with her sky blue eyes. They invited me over as a humbled guest for Thanksgiving, a holiday we Brits don’t have back home. It was sort of like a new life, it was. It was very different and rich with family members who spent their time passing the stuffing from one end of a table to another. The Carrigans argued about politics and education, but most importantly they made a huge debacle in regards to Max’s current status at Princeton. As they predicted, he was just getting by, having fun playing golf around campus and so on. They pestered him with questions complaining about tuition fees and what he intends to do for the rest of his life. Typically Max was annoyed and in his defence asked, "Why is it always about what will I do? Why isn’t the issue who I am? It’s not what you do that defines who you are but rather who you are that defines what you do."

Honestly, I myself have never had to ask these questions before and then they call upon me. The only reaction I get is intensified silence. "Surely, it’s not what you do…but how you do it."
Since it’s just me and me mum, my education itself is rarely a topic of conversation. My only job was to make sure that food made it to the table.

Feeling intolerable about the Thanksgiving dinner, Max and Lucy took me bowling as a treat on them. Ten-pin to be precise. It wasn’t the most romantic place as it typically would be, but it was enough to realize I had fallen for someone new. Really, Molly I am remorseful for having it happen, but there was nothing I could do. Honestly, I Should’ve Known Better.

Since it was such a heated topic at the dinner table, Lucy teased me throughout the night and was curious whether or not the English education differed. I insisted that it wouldn’t make a difference, but I guess there was nothing that stopped Lucy from trying.

She spent a couple of minutes thinking of something to stump me with, as I did nothing else but watch her. That’s what people do, It’s Only Love.


I was told that the arrangement of the ten bowling pins formed a parabola. The division between the carpet and the wooden floor is the x-axis. The pins were placed in four rows where the number of pins in each row was equal to the number of the row. The central and only pin in the first row acted as the vertex that lied directly on the y-axis. The distance from the vertext to a focus point in the fourth row was 4. The focus point on the fourth row was situated at (0, 8). Lucy handed me paper and demanded an equation and the sketch of the graph. She found that the question was too easy so she told me to justify whether or not the parabola passed through the point (4, 5).

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She was satisfied with my answer, but then she challenged me to hit the pins that I spent so much time drawing on paper.




It was later that night that Max asked me to move with him to New York. But what was the rush? I was starting to like it here, especially with her here and all. I guess I made it boldly obvious that I had a thing for his little sister as he automatically became defensive.

MAX: She has a boyfriend, you know. He’s just stationed in the war right now. His name is Daniel.

It’s okay…I have a girlfriend. Her name was Molly.

Labels: DEV question, journal entry, Jude's Drafting Table

WHY DON’T WE DO IT IN THE ROAD?, February 14, 1968

[UNIT: TRIGONOMETRIC IDENTITIES]

It's been a long time since I've written, but this is what happened. Max and I took a strenuous drive across the country in order to get to the Big Apple. Where to next? It’s really hard not knowing what your next move is; it’s A Hard Day’s Night. With a couple hundred bucks in our pockets, we bought an issue of Rap Magazine and we saw an ad for an apartment in the Soho village, which was hardly a place to be cheap up front. Max saw it differently and managed to persuade the landlady Sadie with a two-week advance.

After months of settling in, we met a bunch of exciting people like Jojo, a soulful guitarist looking for work, we discover that Sadie is also an aspiring singer who is getting by. Jojo tells me and Max that the only reason why she let him stay there is because she needed a guitarist and fast. It was only just recently that an opportunity came her way. A renowned music producer in New York has come just to see her act. She only has a week to find a place most appropriate to hold her gig and she’s asked for my help specifically since I sort of majored in architecture and art. Who knows; helping Sadie may bring some good karma in return so of course I was the man for the job.

Just around the corner was The Round Pub, which I felt was most suitable since it wasn’t a drag to move the equipment into and had a sort of vibe about the place. On the contrary, I spoke with the owner of the pub. He negotiated affordable rates, just as long as we could work around a slight problem. The majority of the space inside the pub is used for bartending and customer seating. Sadie needs space for the members of her band, the Po Boys and the equipment as well. It can’t be cramped or the band can’t play comfortably. But they can’t take up too much space as they can’t afford to rid additional seating. She wonders if she has enough room or if she has to lose a part of the speaker system crucial for the band to be heard. She had to make a huge choice that day.

Sadie's stage manager specified that the space they would take up would be equivalent to the sector tan (α + β). α and β aren't directly given but sin α = 12/15, cos β = 12/13 , given that cos α > 0 and sin β > 0. On the other hand, the pub owner says that the maximum area he could give the band was 100 m². Using the information above, find the area Sadie's band would require if the radius of the room was 2 metres.

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It turns out we did have the right amount of room for the band to play— and play they did. The people were all snug and Sadie and the Po Boys rocked out. The night was amazing and a huge success. As for the good karma returning my way? Lucy decided it was time to visit me and Max before her first year of college started. Lucky me.

Labels: DEV question, journal entry, Jude's Drafting Table

I WANT TO TELL YOU, February 21, 1968

Given the opportunity that I could be courteous and welcoming, I took Lucy for a sort of tour of the big city. I guess after a couple of hours she got accustomed to things. We went by an old abandoned building by the river and spent time talking. I wanted to tell her what I felt, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. All she could do was talk about how Daniel died serving in the war. She couldn’t help it. He was her first boyfriend and he was the first person she knew that died. It was good to see her release all that pain. But it was sad to watch.

Something else was on her mind though. I asked what it was and she told me the reason why she was here was because a letter had come for Max. He shouldn’t have dropped out of college. Max was going to be a recruit heading for Vietnam. None of us wanted him to go and I’m sure he didn’t either. But LBJ isn’t giving anyone much choice.

I tried to cheer her up and told her that no one or no gun was going to get Max. He’s so twisted that he’ll bend his way out of this fix. I didn’t know for sure, but I hoped. I loved the bugger. The draft did exist in England, but I’d have been exempted as a shipyard worker. I would’ve spent some time studying art, but I guess I’d have to live on pure skill seeing that the only thing I had time for was to bring money into the house. So I joined the ranks of the great unwashed.

Saying that didn’t give her much security so I tried to keep her mind off of it. I broke a stick off of the charred canoe that burnt and washed ashore and I ran to a wall and did a rough sketch of her. I didn’t have charcoal or paper, but I improvised. I guess I wanted an excuse to look at her. I asked her to come closer. I just wanted to get her eyes right. Too bad I had to leave it like that…we got caught. Apparently we were "defacing city property." I egged him on and told him to come down and get us. He’ll scuff up them shiny black boots. It was and reckless move since I didn’t exist in this country. "Run For Your Life!" I screamed, and we eventually lost him.

We went back to the loft and found everyone celebrating Sadie’s success. We had a good time and I finally took Lucy by the hand and told her how I felt. She was reluctant to fall in love. But she talked to me and made me understand that she doesn’t want to get hurt, especially by her brother’s best mate.

If I fell in love with you, would you promise to be true?
And help me understand that I’ve been in love before
And I’ve found that love was more than just holding hands

If I give my heart to you, I must be sure from the very start
That you will love me more than her.
If I trust in you, oh please, don’t run and hide
If I love you too, oh please, don’t hurt my pride like her
‘Cause I couldn’t stand the pain and I would be sad if our new love was in vain.
So I hope you see that I would love to love you…

The night ended with a kiss.

Labels: journal entry

I WANT YOU [SHE'S SO HEAVY], February 28, 1968

[UNITS: CIRCULAR FUNCTIONS/TRANSFORMATIONS]

As a brother, Max told her that she could do better than me. I wasn’t quite sure if he was joking or not. But that’s the way it is, And I Love Her. He was probably just upset when Luce gave him that letter at the diner a week ago. People were throwing all kinds of suggestions at him: contract some fatal disease, pretend you were a different sexual orientation, eat beets to make his urine appear red or even eat cotton balls so a shadow will show up in an x-ray.
We all tried to get his mind off of it, but nothing can relieve that stress. Nothing changes the fact that he had to show up for his date with Uncle Sam.




After reporting to an induction center for the draft, Max was more than willing to do anything it takes to avoid the situation. He tried to do everything we suggested but it didn’t work. He only saw two options that remained: incarceration or Canada. One of the mates suggested Montreal specifically. Learn French or Die. As a last resort he moved to Montreal. Before he left, he told me to take care of Lucy and that he didn’t mean what he said before. It was relieving to have his approval.

He flew to Montreal and got a job as a taxi driver. When he wasn’t working he wrote letters to everyone here in NYC. It hadn’t even been a full two weeks yet and I decided to drive Sadie’s car over. I thought New York was different. Montreal had a different feeling; it was less hectic and not everyone was hunting you down. The revolution was not as bad as it was down south but people were still aware of what was happening. I spent a couple of days with him and told him how different it was so far. Lucy missed him, Sadie missed his teasing but he had no choice. All he did was watch the sunrises. What got him so interested in sunsets in the first place were the old almanacs scattered around the once-abandoned suite. He didn't really do much but read them.

The latest sunrise was on Dec. 22 at 9:15 AM. According to the almanac, the earliest sunrise occurred on the 22nd of June at 3:15 AM. The sunrise times on other dates can be predicted using a sinusoidal equation.

(a) Write two equations for the described function above; one using cosine and the other using sine.

(b) Sketch the graph for the sinusoidal function described in the problem.

(c) Use one of the equations in (a) to predict the time of sunrise on September 7.

(d) What is the average sunrise time throughout the year?

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I suggested him to come back…just for a little while. The drafting centers passed through the apartment the other day hunting for Max and he wasn’t there. What would make them come by again? He wasn’t there the first time.

So yeah, we came back. Everyone was happy but still, they couldn’t help being scared. I honestly don’t know why I suggested this…when we had a night on the town, we got caught. Why couldn’t we just wait? It was my entire fault. Now he has to report in two weeks or else they’ll put him in jail for sure. No escape. I even think they had someone watch him. It all happened so fast.

Labels: DEV question, journal entry, Jude's Drafting Table

TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE, March 7, 1968

[UNIT: EXPONENTS & LOGARITHMS]

I remember the day when Prudence first entered the apartment. She Came Through The Bathroom Window. She took Max’s place as a roomie for a while, but things got weird when Lucy got here. So she had a talk with Sadie about it and the sweet person Sadie was, generously gave her a room for a while. Prudence on the other hand didn’t take it too well. She despised being so dependent on everyone. She told me and Luce the story about how she wound up in New York City in the first place after hitchhiking from Ohio. She dropped out of high school and moved in with her boyfriend who later abused her and nearly stole everything.

All Prudence had now was the $750 she invested in the bank. The teller said that the money she invested earned interest at the rate of 9%, compounded continuously. How long will it take for the investment to triple? Quadruple?

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Of course all she had wasn’t quite enough to make it on her own, but that’s why she had us; her friends. She locked herself in the closet and we did nothing but try to make her day. We also went down to see what the commotion was all about. It was the peace march against the war. The man on the megaphone was Paco. Sure, he was doing it for a great cause, but I had a hunch about this guy. Unfortunately, Lucy was so captivated by his movement. She went to their offices and decided to become a part of their revolution. I wasn’t comfortable with it, but I can only do so much.

On the brighter side of the day, Sadie invited us to a gala that promoted a book by Doctor Robert. I Am The Walrus it was called.

I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.

That’s all I remember, really. I remember the night in flashes. First we’re at some party for a book and now we’re in some field watching a circus that Prudence was in. Where were we? Dr. Robert abandoned us for California and didn’t have the courtesy to bring us back to New York. But I’ll say one thing. That was some dream. Psychedelic…Water…Grass…Floating.

Labels: DEV question, journal entry, Jude's Drafting Table

SOMETHING, March 14, 1968

The circus days are over and it’s the first time it snowed back here in the big bad city. All I’ve been doing lately is draw and sketch. I recall parts of that dream and draw inspiration from that. Then I turn to Lucy on the bed; "I’m Only Sleeping" she says. She’s covered in nothing but bed sheets. When I gaze at her, I’m in a trance. It brings me back to the day when I first saw her. There’s a power she has over me. I think it’s her eyes. It’s just something.

Something in the way she moves, attracts me like no other lover.
Something in the way she woos me.
I don't want to leave her now, you know I believe and how.

Somewhere in her smile she knows that I don't need no other lover.
Something in her style that shows me.
I don't want to leave her now, you know I believe and how.

You're asking me will my love grow, I don't know, I don't know.
You stick around now, it may show, I don't know, I don't know.

Something in the way she knows and all I have to do is think of her.
Something in the things she shows me.
I don't want to leave her now, you know I believe and how.

Labels: journal entry

OH! DARLING March 21, 1968

Lucy finally woke up, gave me a kiss and suddenly decides to rush off. I don’t even think that he remembers that Sadie’s gig is tonight. I heard them fighting. I think it was about the producer wanting to dump Jojo as a guitarist. They said his sound was lazy, but Jojo is anything but. Truthfully, he’s soulful and feels the music that he plays. I hate to say this, but people aren’t being treated with an equal respect. The 12th Street Riot recently happened and that’s what brought Jojo to New York. His baby brother died in the midst of all the chaos. People were quite distraught that day and there are obviously unsettled matters between races. There have been groups that have been segregated and prejudged only because of the colour of their skin. I myself don’t agree with that because I know that these are great people once you get to know them. But not everyone has such a welcoming and open heart.

Sadie broke the news to him before the gig and he got angry. So he took it out on stage and annoyed Sadie so much that it made her leave. I was quite angry as well because Lucy didn’t show up. She said she’d try, but I guess it was all the top scientists from Columbia that have come in to work for the defence department. I guess there was a huge demonstration on the campus to protest it. It was probably Paco’s idea to radicalize; I guess handing out leaflets, lie down in the middle of the street and give flowers to the cops. I just wish she would try harder. She has no time for me anymore. All she’s been talking about is Paco, Paco and Paco. The man is a Lothario, a Don Juan, a shagger— what we Limey’s call a seducer of young and vulnerable women. Lucy fails to notice because she ignores it all the time. Every time I come by, there’s about fifty people there; there’s one bloke licking stamps and the other forty-nine, well, they’re all female. It’s no exaggeration. This was our first fight.

She insisted that I knew nothing about him and that I haven’t been listening to what he’s got to say. Well I’ve heard it. I’ve heard it all, and it’s really doing nothing for me. I have no opinion for it. According to her, all I’ve been doing is doodles and cartoons. I’m sorry I’m not the one with the megaphone, but this is what I do.

Labels: journal entry

STRAWBERRY FIELDS March 28, 1968

[UNIT: COMBINATORICS]

I felt so distant from everything and everyone. I haven’t talked to Lucy in days and Max is off fighting for his life in ‘nam. I’ve almost forgotten about Liverpool. I haven’t been taking the time to write to me mum and old girlfriend now, because I’m so pre-occupied with taking care of Lucy, and trying to help everyone else solve their problems. I haven’t really taken time for myself lately.

People told me it wasn’t my fault that Max got caught and drafted, but it was me who brought him back here. If he didn’t come back, he wouldn’t have gone to war. I honestly don’t know what to believe now. Lucy is being radicalized and brainwashed by Paco, and I have a stronger opinion of him than I do of this whole immoral war. With all this running through my mind, it’s hard for me to get a real job.

It just came back to me that Sadie and Jojo needed a logo for their record company they were going to hatch up. The only inspiration I can afford right now though comes from the groceries. Celery…no, they seem one-dimensionally green. Eggs are too bland. The strawberries catch my eye. They’re red. Red much like the fury that lies in my emotion. As much as I’d like to change the world I live in now, I can’t— Not in America. Don’t get me wrong. I like it here. Although I’m not really here, you know, without a visa I don’t officially exist. It’s exhilarating in a way; it’s like a weird kind of freedom. And the last thing I’d want to do is anger the government that has the power to send me back to where I came from. I’ve grown more here as a person and these strawberries have grown into my muse. Again, they’re red, big and juicy and that is enough for me to paint a vision for a logo.

Soldiers are trained to stand in formation, row by row and are forced to stay there. To be honest, I think they’re held into place by pins. Call this a piece that yells for symbolism, where strawberries, metaphorically speaking, are people.




For this art piece, strawberries were pinned to the wall. On the first row, six out of the eleven strawberries had a yellow pin that supported them in place. The rest of them were held up by green pins. Five of these eleven strawberries had the crown of leaves that grew on top.

(a) In how many different ways could the strawberries be arranged if the leaved strawberries remained together?

(b) If the eleven strawberries from the original batch were placed into a separate container, what is the probability of getting first a leafless berry with a green pin followed by a leaved strawberry with a yellow pin, given that the first strawberry wasn't replaced.?

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Although I saw that the pinned strawberries were really deep, I don’t think it’s appropriate and happy. What else could I muster up? I might as well crush the leftovers and use them as paint. Maybe a strawberry could be a heart. Like I said, it was big, red and juicy. Forgive my lack of better words, but what more was there to say? I really just wish everything was over.

Labels: DEV question, journal entry, Jude's Drafting Table

YOU’RE GONNA LOST THAT GIRL April 4, 1968

I think that Lucy is on the verge of leaving me because of those things I said to Paco. Maybe I should’ve just trusted her more. I knew deep down that she wouldn’t do that to me and that I wouldn’t hurt her. But I don’t know if I could change what I’ve done. I was walking home and I came across the news on the television. Martin Luther King, Jr. was a man who struggled for equality and peace for the world between people. He was assassinated tonight. What a shame. I walked by Café Huh? and I heard a familiar voice. It was Jojo. He wrote up another song about what a place the world is right now. It shouldn’t be like this.

I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
I look at the floor and I see it need sweeping
Still my guitar gently weeps

We ended up staying at the Café all night and walked home quite tipsy in the morning. I told him to come up, but he refused. He knew he wouldn’t find Sadie up there. I really didn’t want to go up either, but where else would I go? Lucy probably wasn’t there. She was most likely out fighting for the cause. I would too, but I don’t have one. That’s the problem. I snuck in, naïvely thinking she was still there. I should’ve seen it coming. She left me. The room was empty. I guess she was just passing through.

Later on that night, after some heavy drinking, there was noise coming from the campus and I saw her. She was being dragged away in cuffs along with Paco. I knew he wasn’t good news. I called out her name and she heard. She yelled back desperately. I shoved my way through the crowd but the cops beat me down. I tasted the blood that burst out of my head as I took a couple of hard blunt hits. I couldn’t reach her. That was the last thing I remembered.

I woke up in a prison cell. As did many others. But they all had someone to bail them out. The only one who showed up was my dad. I guess Lucy called him. He told the cops that he was a US citizen and that I was his son. They wanted proof, of course he didn’t have any. They weren’t going to press charges for the riot, but this was an immigration issue, meaning that they’re probably going to kick me out of the country. What kind of pickle did I get myself into? I was going to be deported. I thanked him for trying though. I still had some kind of gratitude. I promised him once I got home; I was going to tell mum about him and what a good man he really is.

Labels: journal entry

HAPPINESS IS A WARM GUN, April 28, 1968

I was home once again, and I guess it was time to face my demons. There she was, Molly, glowing and pregnant. I wouldn’t be surprised if she hit me.

"How’s it going, Jude?"

I wondered if she was going to put me through a guilt trip again. She probably was.

"I’m okay…when did you and Phil hitch up?"

"Two weeks after you stopped writing."

I was pleased for her. She has a child on the way.

"What was her name? The reason you stopped writing?"

Lucy. That was all I had to say. Again. I was sorry for what I did. But I see she moved on, with
Phil Scully. She knows I shook my head at that. But Lucy…it was good for a while, but it seemed a little unreal.

"Is this real enough for you?" she asked me coldly before she walked away with scumbag Scully himself. What a limey.

I heard from Sadie that Max was wounded and came back to America. He was officially done serving his country. He went back to the normal big city life as a taxi driver. It was good to know he was safe and sound again. Alternatively the roads weren’t too safe yet. The riots intensified and became a bit more dodgy and perilous. I just wish that Lucy stays safe. She shouldn’t put herself out there like that anymore. Max is home and she shouldn’t have to fight anymore. I picked up a copy of the Liverpool Echo and the headline caught my eye. AMERICAN ANTI-WAR RADICALS KILLED IN HOMEMADE BOMB BLAST. It was Paco’s building. Now I’m really worried. Was she killed? I thought it was the other side that made bombs. If she knew that, she wouldn’t go through with this. I know it. At least I think I do. I have to know for sure. I have to get back there. I don’t know how, but I know I have to.

Labels: journal entry

ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE, May 5, 1968

I had a wake up call. There was a slight chance I could go back if I did it legally. I wouldn’t be smuggled in by a huge ship but actually be there...exist. I apologized one last time to my mother because I was leaving her before I even settled in again. I packed my bags and said goodbye. Before I knew it, I was at the airport again, no escorts, no anything. The only thing that was in my way was the American Immigration Service. I was bloody nervous that I almost peed in my trousers. Thud! The officer slammed the stamp onto my passport. Thank you! Here I was once more, making a new start. Max waited for me outside the airport and drove me to Sadie’s rooftop concert.

Everyone was there, Prudence, Sadie and Jojo. They were having quite the jam session singing a new song for the loving people below. It wasn’t long until the cops ambushed the whole thing and escorted everyone downstairs; except me. I hid. Where was Lucy? She was close, that’s all I knew. I felt her and I sang for her.

There's nothing you can do that can't be done
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung
Nothing you can say, but you can learn how to play the game
It's easy

There's nothing you can make that can't be made
No one you can save that can't be saved
Nothing you can do, but you can learn how to be in time
It's easy

There's nothing you can know that can't be known
Nothing you can see that isn't shown
No where you can be, that isn't where you're meant to be
It's easy

All you need is love, love is all you need…

I kept singing with my eyes closed, hoping that she would show up. I open them and there she was. The tears spontaneously combusted and would not stop. She was just a rooftop away. She loves me and I love her and I will never let her go again. There she was…Lucy In the Sky With Diamonds.

Labels: journal entry