Tyle rzeczy nie wiedziałam o Marylin. Że pięknie pisała, że została zdradzona... że 68 lat temu myślała tak jak ja rok temu...
...i discovered and knew he had spent the evening and most of the morning hours with the other women to be prosaic and I thanked God I had waylaid him on the beach to protest my undying love - rejection I could endure but making a fool of myself even if he had been sincere in his love my pride could not take, also the fact that I was so foolishly loyal and that I did not have a chance to wound him in some childish fashion was another blow to my as yet unsteady ego - I now would like a chance at a third act - the unsuspecting male and the vengeful female, but now I’m only fooling myself if I do get my last act i will portray the heroine who bravely suffers tucking in all away to use as barge some now unknown man.
Czy to możliwe, że wszystko się już zdarzyło i że nasze życie to zlepek powtórek i urywków?
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