Spiderlike, I spin mirrors, Loyal to my image.

With that strange knowing that comes over me, like a clairvoyance, I know that I am sure of myself and my enormous and alarmingly timeless love for you; which will always be.

There is a certain unique and strange delight about walking down an empty street alone.

To learn and think; to think and live; to live and learn: this always, with new insight, new understanding, and new love.

From the night Buddy Willard kissed me and said I must go out with a lot of boys, he made me feel I was much more sexy and experienced than he was and that everything he did like hugging and kissing and petting was simply what I made him feel like doing out of the blue, he couldn’t help it and didn’t know how it came about. Now I saw he had only been pretending all this time to be so innocent.

Do we always grind through the present, doomed to throw a gold haze of fond retrospect over the past?

I am disabused of all faith, and see too clearly.