The World Has Plenty Of Room, Riches,

Yes, There Is No Doubt That Paper Is Patient And As I Don't Intend To Show This Cardboard-covered Notebook, Bearing The Proud Name Of "diary," To Anyone, Unless I Find A Real Friend, Boy Or Girl, Probably Nobody Cares. And Now I Come To The Root Of The Matter, The Reason For My Starting A Diary: It Is That I Have No Such Real Friend.

I Long To Ride A Bike, Dance, Whistle, Look At The World, Feel Young And Know That I'm Free, And Yet I Can't Let It Show. Just Imagine What Would Happen If All Eight Of Us Were To Feel Sorry For Ourselves Or Walk Around With The Discontent Clearly Visible On Our Faces. Where Would That Get Us?

And Finally I Twist My Heart Round Again, So That The Bad Is On The Outside And The Good Is On The Inside, And Keep On Trying To Find A Way Of Becoming What I Would So Like To Be, And Could Be, If There Weren't Any Other People Living In The World.

I... Keep Trying To Find A Way To Become What I'd Like To Be And What I Could Be If... If Only There Were No Other People In The World.

Misfortunes Never Come Singly.