安妮日记英文版_安妮·弗兰克-第40节

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at　such　moments　i　dont　think　about　all　the　misery；　but　about　the　beauty　that　still　remains。　this　is　where　mother　and　i　differ　greatly。　her　advice　in　the　face　of　melancholy　is：　〃think　about　all　the　suffering　in　the　world　and　be　thankful　youre　not　part　of　it。〃　my　advice　is：　〃go　outside；　to　the　country；　enjoy　the　sun　and　all　nature　has　to　offer。　go　outside　and　try　to　recapture　the　happiness　within　yourself；　think　of　all　the　beauty　in　yourself　and　in　everything　around　you　and　be　happy。鈥�

i　dont　think　mothers　advice　can　be　right；　because　what　are　you　supposed　to　do　if　you　bee　part　of　the　suffering？　youd　be　pletely　lost。　on　the　contrary；　beauty　remains；　even　in　misfortune。　if　you　just　look　for　it；　you　discover　more　and　more　happiness　and　regain　your　balance。　a　person　whos　happy　will　make　others　happy；　a　person　who　has　courage　and　faith　will　never　die　in　misery！

yours；　anne　

m。　frank

wednesday；　march　8；　1944

margot　and　i　have　been　writing　each　other　notes；　just　for　fun；　of　course。

anne：　its　strange；　but　i　can　only　remember　the　day　after　what　has　happened　the　night　before。　for　example；　i　suddenly　remembered　that　mr。　dussel　was　snoring　loudly　last　night。　（its　now　quarter　to　three　on　wednesday　af…　ternoon　and　mr。　dussel　is　snoring　again；　which　is　why　it　flashed　through　my　mind；　of　course。）　when　i　had　to　use　the　potty；　i　deliberately　made　more　noise　to　get　the　snoring　to　stop。

margot：　which　is　better；　the　snoring　or　the　gasping　for　air？

anne：　the　snorings　better；　because　it　stops　when　i　make　noise；　without　waking　the　person　in　question。

what　i　didnt　write　to　margot；　but　what　ill　confess　to　you；　dear　kitty；　is　that　ive　been　dreaming　of　peter　a　great　deal。　the　night　before　last　i　dreamed　i　was　skating　right　here　in　our　living　room　with　that　little　boy　from　the　apollo　ice…skating　rink；　he　was　with　his　sister；　the　girl　with　the　spindly　legs　who　always　wore　the　same　blue　dress。　i　introduced　myself；　overdoing　it　a　bit；　and　asked　him　his　name。　it　was　peter。

in　my　dream　i　wondered　just　how　many　peters　i　actually　knew！

then　i　dreamed　we　were　standing　in　peters　room；　facing　each　other　beside　the　stairs。

i　said　something　to　him；　he　gave　me　a　kiss；　but　replied　that　he　didnt　love　me　all　that　much　and　that　i　shouldnt　flirt。　in　a　desperate　and　pleading　voice　i　said；　〃im　not　flirting；　peter！鈥�

when　i　woke　up；　i　was　glad　peter　hasnt　said　it　after　all。

last　night　i　dreamed　we　were　kissing　each　other；　but　peters　cheeks　were　very　disappointing：　they　werent　as　soft　as　they　looked。　they　were　more　like　fathers　cheeks　　the　cheeks　of　a　man　who　already　shaves。

friday；　march　10；　1944

my　dearest　kitty；

the　proverb　〃misfortunes　never　e　singly〃　defi…　nitely　applies　to　today。　peter　just　got　through　saying　it。　let　me　tell　you　all　the　awful　things　that　have　happened　and　that　are　still　hanging　over　our　heads。

first；　miep　is　sick；　as　a　result　of　henk　and　aagjes　wedding　yesterday。　she　caught　cold　in　the　westerkerk；　where　the　service　was　held。　second；　mr。　kleiman　hasnt　returned　to　work　since　the　last　time　his　stomach　started　bleeding；　so　beps　been　left　to　hold　down　the　fort　alone。　third；　the　police　have　arrested　a　man　（whose　name　i　wont　put　in　writing）。　its　terrible　not　only　for　him；　but　for　us　as　well；　since　hes　been　supplying　us　with　potatoes；　butter　and　jam。　mr。　m。；　as　ill　call　him；　has　five　children　under　the　age　of　thirteen；　and　another　on　the　way。

last　night　we　had　another　little　scare：　we　were　in　the　middle　of　dinner　when　suddenly　someone　knocked　on　the　wall　next　door。　for　the　rest　of　the　evening　we　were　nervous　and　gloomy。

lately　i　havent　been　at　all　in　the　mood　to　write　down　whats　been　going　on　here。　ive　been　more　wrapped　up　in　myself。　dont　get　me　wrong；　im　terribly　upset　about　whats　happened　to　poor；　good…hearted　mr。　m。；　but　theres　not　much　room　for　him　in　my　diary。

tuesday；　wednesday　and　thursday　i　was　in　peters　room　from　four…thirty　to　five…fifteen。　we　worked　on　our　french　and　chatted　about　one　thing　and　another。　i　really　look　forward　to　that　hour　or　so　in　the　afternoon；　but　best　of　all　is　that　i　think　peters　just　as　pleased　to　see　me。

yours；　anne　

m。　frank

the　diary　of　a　young　girl　213　saturday；　march　11；　1944

dearest　kitty；

i　havent　been　able　to　sit　still　lately。　i　wander　up…　stairs　and　down　and　then　back　again。　i　like　talking　to　peter；　but　im　always　afraid　of　being　a　nuisance。　hes　told　me　a　bit　about　the　past；　about　his　parents　and　about　himself；　but　its　not　enough；　and　every　five　minutes　i　wonder　why　i　find　myself　longing　for　more。　he　used　to　think　i　was　a　real　pain　in　the　neck；　and　the　feeling　was　mutual。　ive　changed　my　mind；　but　how　do　i　know　hes　changed　his？　i　think　he　has；　but　that　doesnt　necessarily　mean　we　have　to　bee　the　best　of　friends；　although　as　far　as　im　concerned；　it　would　make　our　time　here　more　bearable。　but　i　wont　let　this　drive　me　crazy。　i　spend　enough　time　thinking　about　him　and　dont　have　to　get　you　all　worked　up　as　well；　simply　because　im　so　miserable！

sunday；　march　12；　1944

dearest　kitty；

things　are　getting　crazier　here　as　the　days　go　by。

peter　hasnt　looked　at　me　since　yesterday。　hes　been　acting　as　if　hes　mad　at　me。　im　doing　my　best　not　to　chase　after　him　and　to　talk　to　him　as　little　as　possible；　but　its

not　easy！　whats　going　on；　what　makes　him　keep　me　at　arms　length　one　minute　and　rush　back　to　my　side　the　next？　perhaps　im　imagining　that　its　worse　than　it　really　is。

perhaps　hes　just　moody　like　me；　and　tomorrow　everything　will　be　all　right　again！

i　have　the　hardest　time　trying　to　maintain　a　normal　facade　when　im　feeling　so　wretched　and　sad。　i　have　to　talk；　help　around　the　house；　sit　with　the　others　and；　above　all；　act　cheerful！　most　of　all　i　miss　the　outdoors　and　having　a　place　where　i　can　be　alone　for　as　long　as　i　want！　i　think　im　getting　everything　all　mixed　up；　kitty；　but　then；　im　in　a　state　of　utter　confusion：　on　the　one　hand；　im　half　crazy　with　desire　for　him；　can　hardly　be　in　the　same　room　without　looking　at　him；　and　on　the　other　hand；　i　wonder　why　he　should　matter　to　me　so　much　and　why　i　cant　be　calm　again！

day　and　night；　during　every　waking　hour；　i　do　nothing　but　ask　myself；　〃have　you　given　him　enough　chance　to　be　alone？　have　you　been　spending　too　much　time　upstairs？　do　you　talk　too　much　about　serious　subjects　hes　not　yet　ready　to　talk　about？　maybe　he　doesnt　even　like　you？　has　it　all　been　your　imagination？　but　then　why　has　he　told　you　so　much　about　himself？　is　he　sorry　he　did？〃　and　a　whole　lot　more。

yesterday　afternoon　i　was　so　worn　out　by　the　sad　news　from　the　outside　that　i　lay　down　on　my　divan　for　a　nap。　all　i　wanted　was　to　sleep　and　not　have　to　think。　i　slept　until　four；　but　then　i　had　to　go　next　door。　it　wasnt　easy；　answering　all　mothers　questions　and　inventing　an　excuse　to　explain　my　nap　to　father。　i　pleaded　a　headache；　which　wasnt　a　lie；　since　i　did　have　one。　。　。　on　the　inside！

ordinary　people；　ordinary　girls；　teenagers　like　myself；　would　think　im　a　little　nuts　with　all　my　self…pity。　but　thats　just　it。　i　pour　my　heart　out　to　you；　and　the　rest　of　the　time　im　as　impudent；　cheerful　and　self…confident　as　possible　to　avoid　questions　and　keep　from　getting　on　my　own　nerves。

margot　is　very　kind　and　would　like　me　to　confide　in　her；　but　i　cant　tell　her　everything。　she　takes　me　too　seriously；　far　too　seriously；　and　spends　a　lot　of　time　thinking　about　her　loony　sister；　looking　at　me　closely　whenever　i　open　my　mouth　and　wondering；　〃is　she　acting；　or　does　she　really　mean　it？鈥�

its　because　were　always　together。　i　dont　want　the　person　i　confide　in　to　be　around　me　all　the　time。　when　will　i　untangle　my　jumbled　thoughts？　when　will　i　find　inner　peace　again？

yours；　anne　

tuesday；　march　14；　1944

dearest　kitty；

it　might　be　amusing　for　you　（though　not　for　me）　to　hear　what　were　going　to　eat　today。　the　cleaning　lady　is　working　downstairs；　so　at　the　moment　im　seated　at　the　van　daans　oilcloth…covered　table　with　a　handkerchief　sprinkled　with　fragrant　prewar　perfume　pressed　to　my　nose　and　mouth。　you　probably　dont　have　the　faintest　idea　what　im　talking　about；　so　let　me　〃begin　at　the　begin…　ning。〃　the　people　who　supply　us　with　food　coupons　have　been　arrested；　so　we　have　just　our　five　black…market　ra…　…；　tion　books…no　coupons；　no　fats　and　oils。　since　miep　and　mr。　kleiman　are　sick　again；　bep　cant　manage　the　shop…　ping。　the　food　is　wretched；　and　so　are　we。　as　of　tomor…　row；　we　wont　have　a　scrap　of　fat；　butter　or　margarine。　we　cant　eat　fried　potatoes　for　breakfast　（which　weve　been　doing　to　save　on　bread）；　so　were　having　hot　cereal　instead；　and　because　mrs。　van　d。　thinks　were　starving；　we　bought　some　half…and…half。　lunch　today　consists　of　mashed　potatoes　and　pickled　kale。　this　explains　the　precautionary　measure　with　the　handkerchief。　you　wouldnt　believe　how　much　kale　can　stink　when　its　a　few　years　old！　the　kitchen　smells　like　a　mixture　of　spoiled　plums；　rotten　eggs　and　brine。　ugh；　just　the　thought　of　having　to　eat　that　muck　makes　me　want　to　throw　up！　besides　that；　our　potatoes　have　contracted　such　strange　diseases　that　one　out　of　every　two　buckets　of　pommes　de　terre　winds　up　in　the　garbage。　we　entertain　ourselves　by　trying　to　figure　out　which　disease　theyve　got；　and　weve　reached　the　conclusion　that　they　suffer　from　cancer；　smallpox　and　measles。