20090606

Tuesday March 5, 1974

Diaries are such silly things really. A diary is the place where a diarist can release all his inhibitions, torrents of criticisms and fears. Strangely enough, my diary is neither interesting or amusing. I don't pull people to pieces or secretly idolise some poor acquaintance...


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Wednesday May 9, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, &c Still dull outside. Who cares? Our alarm clock is on the blink and refuses to sound off. Samuel laid patiently...