e first state fort t contrary to en read in books and  feel like the Devil.

    Not at all! le sense of  as sensitive as souc my bare skin of my aunt’s pistac, ion too nurse everybody and cook for ter I understood to some extent  o s, I stuffed my c ever I could find—socks and and  to be a large-breasted  it, I an. I understood at once t men, merely catc of t breasts, rive to take to t quite po is t ed? I ed boto be poo be t of pity; I ed a ricelligent man, o fall madly in love  I also feared sucs made of ted gold t my mot ttom of rousseau c next to ts embroidered ed ened ’s evergreen cloak and putting on ter gatared at myself in t touc I raordinarily attractive ook note of t before even I . Naturally, t me.

    In tceardrop slide from my lovely eye and just to mind. I’ve never been able to forget it, because at t same moment, inspired by ty, I sang t poem rrying to forget my   w.

    My ots insist I be a woman when I’m a man and a man when I’m a woman.

    it is being human, even worse is living a human’s life.

    I only  to amuse myself frontside and backside, to be Eastern and estern both.

    I o say, “Let’s  ,” for t  all. Listen, I’m not saying t I’ve learned  famous preaced Not--by-a-Longs Effendi, despite being married, prefers o us  as you sensitive painters do. I’m just telling you o any of teet and as t close to inks, excuse the expression, like a bear’s ass.

    All rigo return to t iful I ed to reets like a slave. Poverty, tears, sorro a mir