This Is A Photo As I Would

I Want To Go On Living Even After My Death! And Therefore I Am Grateful To God For This Gift, This Possibility Of Developing Myself And Of Writing, Of Expressing All That Is In Me. I Can Shake Off Everything If I Write; My Sorrows Disappear; My Courage Is Reborn. But, And That Is The Great Question, Will I Ever Be Able To Write Anything Great, Will I Ever Become A Journalist Or A Writer?

It Seems To Me That Later On Neither I Nor Anyone Else Will Be Interested In The Musings Of A Thirteen-year-old Schoolgirl.

But I Won't Bore You Any Longer On The Subject Of Old Men. It Won't Make Things Any Better And All My Plans Of Revenge (such As Disconnecting The Lamp, Shutting The Door, Hiding His Clothes) Must Be Abandoned In Order To Keep The Peace. Oh, I'm Becoming So Sensible!

In Spite Of Everything I Still Believe That People Are Really Good At Heart. I Simply Can't Build Up My Hopes On A Foundation Consisting Of Confusion, Misery And Death.

This Week I've Been Reading A Lot And Doing Little Work. That's The Way Things Ought To Be. That's Surely The Road To Success.