Another post for one or two persons, instead of distorting broadcast to enjoy the confusion over the country. The gestures of friendship it is that takes my attention away. Those that tingle my heart. If they do not speak to me I just may well be enough confused to randomly have fits of helpless discomfiture, very very readily apt to launch my Enola Gay. But I am comme il faut, although I don't have to. Propriety is confined to wives of diplomats and gentlemen of socialite. When it's the circumstances' call for contradiction what's the use of some mini dose of self-indulgence? Let the feelings mix up? Damn drown "crossing a stream with an average depth of six inches?" No. I stay comme il faut. I stay put, orchestrate what's fit, and improvise, leaving hesitation for those who dwell in solitude. I want to win.