November of 1942.
D.H Lawrence, Mexico, 1923.
#dear diary - got told to frown less because i’m making everyone miserable today. don’t they KNOW that this is just my FACE? #i am a bastard son of the greatest most wonderful lord in the world and my mother probably did a bunk because i was an ugly baby #what resulted was a naturally sour countenance - i don’t see why i am to be chastised for it! #sam always tells me to cheer up - i try to describe to him the burden my years of loneliness and comfort and wealth have given me #but he falls asleep each time i try. it is most disheartening. #thinking about going to the hipster club in Mole’s Town to hear The Spearwives playing next week #i would tell you all about them diary but they’re an underground group - you’ve probably never heard of them #memo to me: collect tears in a jar in order to scrub my best moody boots into a black sheen for the concert #i don’t want to be seen as anything less than haughtily pretentious #until next time diary! jon snow out.
