If You Are Nice, And Keep Your

I Have Been Back In Paris For Two Weeks. Nothing New. Life Is Still Bitter.

I Would Have Preferred To Be Successful Here With A Piece That Cost Me A Huge Amount Of Money And Effort... Rather Than Sending To Bohemia Some Ordinary Works.

It Is In Fact Agreed That I Am The Plague, The Cholera Of The Benevolent And Generous Men Who Are Interested In Art And That, When I Show Myself With My Plasters, Even The Emperor Of The Sahara Would Flee.

When You Left On Saturday, I Felt A Horrible Void, I Saw You Everywhere, On The Beach, In Your Room, In The Garden: Impossible For Me To Get Used To The Idea That You Had Left.

I Have Fallen Into An Abyss. I Live In A World So Curious, So Strange. Of The Dream That Was My Life, This Is My Nightmare.