I will take a taxi into the city centre with an American girl I haven´t met yet, so to speak. I asked the hostel staff about catching the bus to the city and one gentleman strongly recommended against it on the grounds of unsafety. As he was showing me central Lima on a wall map, a young woman asked him about the city and bus as well - in Spanish - and I gathered she was in the same predicament as I was so I asked her if she wanted to take a cab with me. She looked startled but said yes. I am waiting for her to use the internet to check a flight.
It is sunny again today and hopefully will be hot. My camisole shirt smells, so I´d like to take it off.
Solitude is for May Sarton the only way she can handle the world. How tragic that the human relations she so rightly values are always accompanied by some sort of distres: anxiety of prepartion, despair at loss of time, concern about self-presentation, her occasional outburst of anger and conflict. It is sad when equanimity can only be found in a vase of flowers or a cat.
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