Dear Die-ary,
The passions that drive us should be the ones we respect and admire. To feel contempt for one's own motivations is a vulgar thing.
Too often, it seems, I've succumbed to less than admirable compulsions driven by this furiously reprehensible machine of mine.
So many things inside that I can do without - desires and urges and whatnot.
So extraneous.
By the time I write in this book again, I hope to be as cold as the moon that lights this page.