April 15th, 1966
I was once captain of the Debate Society at college. I also later chaired the local Toastmasters Club. So, it is with much stifled frustration that I write the following:
Dear God, how I long to converse properly with someone older; with a person who will take me seriously and consider me intellectually his or her equal. Ironically, I have a far superior intellect than most, yet it is that very fact that has gotten me into this dire situation. I’m sick and tired of being patronized and spoken down to. I have a serious yearning for decent conversation, and I wish to use a proper mature sophisticated vocabulary while doing it.
It was a stroke of genius for me to decide to diarize my second life as I have come to realize a very positive aspect of doing so.
This diary certainly helps to ease my aggravated state. By notarizing all my problems and annoyances, I am able to gain a certain sense of relief; a lifting of a great weight from my small shoulders; a catharsis.
I guess you could liken writing these memoirs to regular visits to a psychiatrist. But even more so, these memoirs are currently my only true and trusted friend.