Apr 13, 2025
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Hi ! give Dick a cat, thank you, bye
I shall live on dreams because reality is too cruel for me. I think I shall be the kind of person that nobody understands,
Anaïs Nin, Linotte: The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1914-1920
And I crave the balm of beautiful and soft things.
— Anais Nin, entry dated May 25, 1919 from "Linotte: The Early Dairy of Anais 1914-1920." Translated by Jean L. Sherman. (Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1978)
The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin (1920-1923) ♡
”I have resolved to apply myself to everything I do to make up for lost time.”
Anaïs Nin, Linotte: The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1914–1920
My gaze is fixed on the starry sky and I try to forget the great sadness, the regrets, the desires that preoccupy my mind endlessly. Suddenly, instead of stars, I seem to see flaming bombs, and the sky looks on fire. I feel as though the gentle breeze carries moaning and lamentation. Everything trembles, I shiver. It seems as if I am in the midst of a battle. My heart beats very fast. Before my troubled eyes stands a poor woman surrounded by skeletal children who are dying of hunger. That disappears and I see before me bloody corpses. I hear an agonized voice crying: Help. Thousands of imploring eyes look at me. I am powerless to console these miseries, I feel myself falling into an abyss. Always, always a vision of the war. Another shiver brings me to myself and Reality surrounds me. I see that I am far from the battle, sitting calmly in Kew Gardens, in the country. Then I fall to my knees and my heart thanks God and asks His pardon for not realizing the favor He has done me. That is all. I go down, sit on the porch, breathe.
twelve-year-old Anaïs Nin’s diary, 11JUL15
Dragon d’Avril day 23: “The legend of Zelda”! I’ve never played Botw... and yet... so many feelings about it...
I feel so many things growing—my individuality, my confidence; I feel lines of my character growing stronger. I’m really sprouting, springing up, with mixed feelings of tenderness and bitterness, faith and disillusion, hardness and softness. I have never felt so clearly that my self is—obscurely and stubbornly—self-made.
— Anaïs Nin, Linotte