I Love You, With A Love So

I Also Have A Brand-new Prescription For Gunfire Jitters: When The Shooting Gets Loud, Proceed To The Nearest Wooden Staircase. Run Up And Down A Few Times, Making Sure To Stumble At Least Once. What With The Scratches And The Noise Of Running And Falling, You Won't Even Be Able To Hear The Shooting, Much Less Worry About It. Yours Truly Has Put This Magic Formula To Use, With Great Success!

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.

In The Future I'm Going To Devote Less Time To Sentimentality And More Time To Reality.

I Soothe My Conscience Now With The Thought That It Is Better For Hard Words To Be On Paper Than That Mummy Should Carry Them In Her Heart.

Writing In A Diary Is A Really Strange Experience For Someone Like Me. Not Only Because I’ve Never Written Anything Before, But Also Because It Seems To Me That Later On Neither I Nor Anyone Else Will Be Interested In The Musings Of A Thirteen-year Old School Girl. Oh Well, It Doesn’t Matter. I Feel Like Writing.