Saturday, July 22, 2006

Out of Sorts

When you left, there were a thousand matters which I simply could not discuss because I was ill, confused, out of humour, full of doubts, sad and miserable. I do not regret who I am - how pointless that would be - but I wish to be considered by yourself without regard to my sex. I would like to be cross when I have a reason - not for the vapours or my monthly cloth or the state of my heart. The truth is, I am mad with rage! I cannot make this composition work, upside down or sideways. I will have to start again. Poof! N.


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