Symptom recital by Dorothy Parker I do not like my state of mind; I'm bitter, querulous, unkind. I hate my legs, I hate my hands, I do not yearn for lovelier lands, I dread the dawn's recurrent light; I hate to go to bed at night. I snoot at simple, earnest folk. I cannot take the gentlest joke. I find no peace in paint or type. My world is but a lot of tripe, I'm disillusioned, empty-breasted, For what I think, I'd be arrested. I am not sick, I am not well, My quondam dreams are shot to hell, My soul is crushed, my spirit sore; I do not like me any more. I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse, I ponder on the narrow house, I shudder at the thought of men,,,. I'm due to fall in love again.
When i read this poem, it made me think of life's up's and down's. The roller coster ride of life. No roller coster in Canberra, so I thought that stair's would be the nexted best thing to show this analogy. With stairs there is a way up, a way down and even a middle, life never ending journey
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