I Thought I'd Be A Librarian Until

If You're Doing Nonsense It Has To Be Rather Awful, Because There'd Be No Point. I'm Trying To Think If There's Sunny Nonsense. Sunny, Funny Nonsense For Children — Oh, How Boring, Boring, Boring. As Schubert Said, There Is No Happy Music. And That's True, There Really Isn't. And There's Probably No Happy Nonsense, Either.

There Was A Young Lady Named Mae Who Smoked Without Stopping All Day; As Pack Followed Pack, Her Lungs First Turned Black, And Eventually Rotted Away.

Neither Mine Nor Other People's Prospects Seem Particularly Pleasing Just At The Moment, And I Have Fantasies Of Going To Iceland, Never To Return. As It Is, I Tell Myself Not To Remember The Past, Not To Hope Or Fear For The Future, And Not To Think In The Present, A Comprehensive Program That Will Undoubtedly Have Very Little Success.

I Have Given Up Considering Happiness As Relevant.

Having Got Into Bed And Turned Out The Light, I Quietly Burst Into Tears Because I Am Not A Good Person. As They Came And Went For Some Minutes, I Was Concerned With The Words Following 'because' In The Previous Sentence, Rewriting Them Over And Over In My Head Until They Seemed To Be As Close To The Truth As It Was Possible For Me To Make Them.