I wish I knew myself! Poor me, every day, and I may add, every hour, I do things that I repent the next moment, but still the next day, and the next hour, find me doing the same things, how frail are our resolutions, and how quickly we forget them—how, oh, how many things, would I alter in, if I could, I know I try hard sometimes—I feel very little like writing tonight—even if I did, would not have time for it is bed time now—Have a good deal to write, when I feel like it—I wonder why it is, I cannot be like other people, but for the life of me, I cannot find a person entertaining, &c, (or appear to) if I do not like them—I wish I could know it would be better for me—I know it is very wrong in me, to form my opinion of any one from first sight but as it is—I sldom change—I wish too that I did not show my feelings so plainly—I think I do—but it has often been said, I show them too little—Such is life! Me, me.