Dear diary, I can’t do anything but lie in bed and make phrases. What a donkey. At the bottom of the well there is nothing but the romance of being at the bottom of the well. That is, a stage costume you’ve put on too many times, all wisps and threads. Used to be sweeter.
But if it is the bottom of a well, there must be water; and if one waits, the water will rise, and up you go like a buoy.
get up, donkey, you know how to swim!
