The Reason For My Starting A Diary

When I Write I Can Shake Off All My Cares. My Sorrow Disappears, My Spirits Are Revived.

Why Are Millions Spent On The War Each Day, While Not A Penny Is Available For ... Artists Or The Poor? Why Do People Have To Starve When Mountians Of Food Are Rotting Away In Other Parts Of The World? Oh, Why Are People So Crazy?

I Live In A Crazy Time.

I Had An Occasional Flash Of Understanding, But Then Got Selfishly Wrapped Up Again In My Own Problems And Pleasures.

Outside, You Don't Hear A Single Bird, And A Deathly, Oppressive Silence Hangs Over The House And Clings To Me As If It Were Going To Drag Me Into The Deepest Regions Of The Underworld.... I Wander From Room To Room, Climb Up And Down The Stairs And Feel Like A Songbird Whose Wings Have Been Ripped Off And Who Keeps Hurling Itself Against The Bars Of Its Dark Cage.