THE DIARY OF A YOUNG GIRL : THE DEFINITIVE EDITION ... - Fidele
THE DIARY OF A YOUNG GIRL : THE DEFINITIVE EDITION ... - Fidele
THE DIARY OF A YOUNG GIRL : THE DEFINITIVE EDITION ... - Fidele
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Peter filled my days, nothing but Peter, dreams and thoughts until Saturday night,<br />
when I felt so utterly miserable; oh, it was awful. I held back my tears when I<br />
was with Peter, laughed uproariously with the van Daans as we drank lemon punch<br />
and was cheerful and excited, but the minute I was alone I knew I was going to cry<br />
my eyes out. I slid to the floor in my nightgown and began by saying my prayers,<br />
very fervently. Then I drew my knees to my chest, lay my head on my arms and<br />
cried, all huddled up on the bare floor. A loud sob brought me back down to earth,<br />
and I choked back my tears, since I didn't want anyone next door to hear me. Then<br />
I tried to pull myself together, saying over and over, "I must, I must, I must. .<br />
. " Stiff from sitting in such an unusual position, I fell back against the side<br />
of the bed and kept up my struggle until just before ten-thirty, when I climbed<br />
back into bed. It was over!<br />
And now it's really over. I finally realized that I must do my schoolwork to keep<br />
from being ignorant, to get on in life, to become a journalist, because that's<br />
what I want! I know I can write. A few of my stories are good, my descriptions of<br />
the Secret Annex are humorous, much of my diary is vivid and alive, but. . . it<br />
remains to be seen whether I really have talent.<br />
"Eva's Dream" is my best fairy tale, and the odd thing is that I don't have the<br />
faintest idea where it came from. Parts of "Cady's Life" are also good, but as a<br />
whole it's nothing special. I'm my best and harshest critic. I know what's good<br />
and what isn't. Unless you write yourself, you can't know how wonderful it is; I<br />
always used to bemoan the fact that I couldn't draw, but now I'm overjoyed that at<br />
least I can write. And if I don't have the talent to write books or newspaper<br />
articles, I can always write for myself. But I want to achieve more than that. I<br />
can't imagine having to live like Mother, Mrs. van Daan and all the women who go<br />
about their work and are then forgotten. I need to have something besides a<br />
husband and children to devote myself to! I don't want to have lived in vain like<br />
most people. I want to be useful or bring enjoyment to all people, even those I've<br />
never met. I want to go on living even after my death! And that's why I'm so<br />
grateful to God for having given me this gift, which I can use to develop myself<br />
and to express all that's inside me!<br />
When I write I can shake off all my cares. My sor- row disappears, my spirits are<br />
revived! But, and that's a big question, will I ever be able to write something<br />
great, will I ever become a journalist or a writer?<br />
I hope so, oh, I hope so very much, because writing allows me to record<br />
everything, all my thoughts, ideals and fantasies.<br />
I haven't worked on "Cady's Life" for ages. In my mind I've worked out exactly<br />
what happens next, but the story doesn't seem to be coming along very well. I<br />
might never finish it, and it'll wind up in the wastepaper basket or the stove.<br />
That's a horrible thought, but then I say to myself, "At the age of fourteen and<br />
with so little experience, you can't write about philosophy."<br />
So onward and upward, with renewed spirits. It'll all work out, because I'm<br />
determined to write!<br />
Yours, Anne M. Frank<br />
THURSDAY, APRIL 6, 1944<br />
Dearest Kitty,<br />
You asked me what my hobbies and interests are and I'd like to answer, but I'd