there are two kinds of doorhandles you can twist

I have had a very tiring week, my lovelies, and that is pathetic, because I was only at school for half a day. That's what I said, not even a full day, only a half of a day. But that is okay because I will sleep for as many hours as I can, and then I will put on my hat and fill up my thermos and it will be the weekend and then everything will turn out all right in the end. But as it stands, it has been a very tiring week.


Supposedly there was an Italian Renaissance, and a Harlem Renaissance, and supposedly there was a fellow by the name of Roger Fry and a woman by the name of Virginia Woolf, but as far as I am concerned that was much too long ago to be of much consideration because there is an absolute need for those things and those fellows right now, and no matter how hard I look, and no matter what people tell me, I just do not see them. I do not see them. And I wonder if they were ever here, or if they are only things written in books, like everything that I thought was real is turning out to be. And I love things that are written in books, but sometimes that is not enough. Right now for me that is not enough.