It Must Be Awful To Feel You're

They Mustn't Know My Despair, I Can't Let Them See The Wounds Which They Have Caused, I Couldn't Bear Their Sympathy And Their Kind-hearted Jokes, It Would Only Make Me Want To Scream All The More. If I Talk, Everyone Thinks I'm Showing Off; When I'm Silent They Think I'm Ridiculous; Rude If I Answer, Sly If I Get A Good Idea, Lazy If I'm Tired, Selfish If I Eat A Mouthful More Than I Should, Stupid, Cowardly, Crafty, Etc. Etc.

Why Should Some People Have Such A Hard Time During Their Few Years On This Earth?

We Lit The Stove A Few Days Ago And The Entire Room Is Filled With Smoke. I Prefer Central Heating, And I'm Probably Not The Only One.

Yes, There Is No Doubt That Paper Is Patient And As I Don't Intend To Show This Cardboard-covered Notebook, Bearing The Proud Name Of "diary," To Anyone, Unless I Find A Real Friend, Boy Or Girl, Probably Nobody Cares. And Now I Come To The Root Of The Matter, The Reason For My Starting A Diary: It Is That I Have No Such Real Friend.

Anyhow, I've Learned One Thing Now. You Only Really Get To Know People When You've Had A Jolly Good Row With Them. Then And Then Only Can You Judge Their True Characters!