London Is Like A Cold Dark Dream

You Imagine The Carefully Pruned, Shaped Thing That Is Presented To You Is Truth. That Is Just What It Isn't. The Truth Is Improbable, The Truth Is Fantastic; It's In What You Think Is A Distorting Mirror That You See The Truth.

I Think That The Desire To Be Cruel And To Hurt (with Words Because Any Other Way Might Be Dangerous To Ourself) Is Part Of Human Nature. Parties Are Battles (most Parties), A Conversation Is A Duel (often). Everybody's Trying To Hurt First, To Get In The Dig That Will Make Him Or Her Feel Superior, Feel Triumph.

It Is Strange How Sad It Can Be - Sunlight In The Afternoon, Don't You Think?

I Am Sad, Sad As A Circus-lioness.

I Hadn't Bargained For This. I Didn't Think It Would Be Like This - Shabby Clothes, Worn-out Shoes, Circles Under Your Eyes, Your Hair Getting Straight And Lanky, The Way People Look At You. ... I Didn't Think It Would Be Like This