Sympathy, Love, Fortune... We All Have These

Everyone Has Inside Of Him A Piece Of Good News. The Good News Is That You Don't Know How Great You Can Be! How Much You Can Love! What You Can Accomplish! And What Your Potential Is!

But I Won't Bore You Any Longer On The Subject Of Old Men. It Won't Make Things Any Better And All My Plans Of Revenge (such As Disconnecting The Lamp, Shutting The Door, Hiding His Clothes) Must Be Abandoned In Order To Keep The Peace. Oh, I'm Becoming So Sensible!

The Question Is Very Understandable, But No One Has Found A Satisfactory Answer To It So Far. Yes, Why Do They Make Still More Gigantic Planes, Still Heavier Bombs And, At The Same Time, Prefabricated Houses For Reconstruction? Why Should Millions Be Spent Daily On The War And Yet There's Not A Penny Available For Medical Services, Artists, Or For Poor People? Why Do Some People Have To Starve, While There Are Surpluses Rotting In Other Parts Of The World? Oh, Why Are People So Crazy?

I Never Utter My Real Feelings About Anything. My Lighter, Superficial Side Will Always Be Too Quick For The Deeper Side Of Me, And That's Why It Always Wins.

I Haven't Written For A Few Days, Because I Wanted First Of All To Think About My Diary. It's An Odd Idea For Someone Like Me To Keep A Diary; Not Only Because I Have Never Done So Before, But Because It Seems To Me That Neither I-nor For That Matter Anyone Else-will Be Interested In The Unbosomings Of A Thirteen -year -old Schoolgirl. Still, What Does That Matter? I Want To Write, But More Than That, I Want To Bring Out All Kinds Of Things That Lie Buried Deep In My Heart.