I Am A Recluse At Present &

I Am Poor - Obscure - Just Eighteen Years Of Age - With A Rapacious Appetite For Everything And Principles As Light As My Purse.

I Think Of You Often. Especially In The Evenings, When I Am On The Balcony And It’s Too Dark To Write Or To Do Anything But Wait For The Stars. A Time I Love. One Feels Half Disembodied, Sitting Like A Shadow At The Door Of One’s Being While The Dark Tide Rises. Then Comes The Moon, Marvellously Serene, And Small Stars, Very Merry For Some Reason Of Their Own. It Is So Easy To Forget, In A Worldly Life, To Attend To These Miracles.

I Love The Evening Star. Does That Sound Foolish? I Used To Go Into The Backyard, After Sunset, And Wait For It Until It Shone Above The Dark Gum Tree. I Used To Whisper 'there You Are, My Darling.' And Just In That First Moment It Seemed To Be Shining For Me Alone. It Seemed To Understand This ... Something Which Is Like Longing, And Yet It Is Not Longing. Or Regret - It Is More Like Regret.

If Only One Could Tell True Love From False Love As One Can Tell Mushrooms From Toadstools.

Make It A Rule Of Life Never To Regret And Never To Look Back. Regret Is An Appalling Waste Of Energy, You Can't Build On It It's Only Good For Wallowing In.