What is my life for and what am I going to do with it? I don't know and I'm afraid.
It is awful to want to go away and to want to go nowhere.
They had to call and call And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
I felt wise and cynical as all hell.
I want, I think, to be omniscient. I think I would like to call myself "the girl who wanted to be God." Yet if I were not in this body where would I be-perhaps I am destined to be classified and qualified. But, oh, I cry out against it.
A black-sharded lady keeps me in a parrot cage.