Ive spent the last two days reading The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall, it's 3 am and I just finished it (and I have to get up in less than 4 hours argh, why did I not put it down)
Either way, I hate it. And I love it. Why! Why did it have to end like that! Why Hall! How could you!
Tomorrow is going to be balls. Not only will I be tired I'll be constantly haunted by the ending
