June 6, 1916

[catelin]

So I dream about a tall, strong man with black hair, white teeth, a pale mysterious face, dark melancholy eyes, a dignified walk and a distant smile. Something like the Count of Monte Cristo. Above all, with a soft, clear voice. I would like him to tell me about his life, which will be very sad and full of terrible, frightening adventures. I would like him to be rather proud and haughty, fond of books, and able to write or play some kind of musical instrument. We would spend every evening at home, in front of the fire in winter, in the garden in summer, with a book or a pencil, his hand resting on mine! Isn't that the way husbands are?

If I ever should marry, I shall chose a man like that, and we shall write in this same diary together. Then my beloved diary will be the recipient of two great secrets and will have two hearts to watch over. It will know two signatures, A.N. and...I would like it to be a fantastic and unknown name like...like...I don't know. All the same, I shall think about it some more and look for a good name.

Anais Nin, from "Linotte"

Comments

[chaizzilla.livejournal.com]

o comrade, theres a line somewhere in something i wrote way back when about glass-eating coaches and the elbow-grinding dive for a ball... sometimes i wonder if once of the vats in which you and i have been dipped over are lifetimes wasn't the same one

[chaizzilla.livejournal.com]

doh, hee i thought you was cate.. but hi there anyhow :) *blush*

[catelin.livejournal.com]

The more I get to know you, the more certain that's the case. Should we be alarmed or elated? Hehehe! ; )

[chaizzilla.livejournal.com]

alarm is irrelevant.
elation is irr.. oh hangon [yanks out borg implant]