I have often been downcast but never in despair; I regard our hiding as a dangerous adventure, romantic and interesting at the same time. In my diary, I treat all the privations as amusing.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
It's curious how we act in moments of personal despair.
I am a writer who came of a sheltered life. A sheltered life can be a daring life as well. For all serious daring starts from within.
One day I undertook a tour through the country, and the diversity and beauties of nature I met with in this charming season, expelled every gloomy and vexatious thought.
Everyone seems to see bleakness and despair in my books. I don't read them that way. I see myself as writing comic books, books about ordinary people trying to live ordinary, dull, happy lives while the world is falling to pieces around them.
I have a taste for a kind of melancholy and for being an absolute victim of love.
Although I'm perceived as very optimistic and upbeat, it comes out of being the opposite of that - feeling isolated or lonely, looking for meaning and the kinds of things that ease that suffering in life, and finding them in large-scale social interaction, like theater and games.
Certainly I have no attraction to misery. I don't intentionally go for dark.
I have not lost any of my crazy, fearless, raw, soulful, eclectic side and I plan on continuing to tell universal stories in an unforgettable way.
I like to read my diary occasionally to remind myself what a miserable, alienated old sod I used to be.
It brings me no joy and not enough comfort to dwell too much on things I've said or written or made or worn in the past.