Saturday, 26 May 1883

Well? I do not go out at all — as though some scandal had occurred. I shall not go to the Salon again.
And in Maman’s absence I have no wish at all to be seen. Besides, I have said so — it is not… And yet the sounds from outside, the echoes of the balls, do not leave me indifferent.
I should like, like the others, to shine and live… As in Rome, as in Naples…
Instead I cloister myself, always waiting… for what? Ah! what wretchedness. Or if I do go out it is once a month — disoriented, thinking of other things — and it always happens that I am not informed, or that whenever I plan to go anywhere it falls through, either because of a dress or heaven knows what. Well… perhaps it will come later…
No — listen — even this despicable architect! That really is too much…
What possessed him not to come running? And this after eighteen months of… infinite admiration. Now I almost regret my very harsh note — for now he will not come any more, and I shall have no one to talk to about the brother. This sort of little peasant! But really, why, why, why? Come now, I am starting again. Why? Because I did not make an impression on him; perhaps he dislikes me. And he is the one who will have said something — arranged things so that even the vile architect has not come…
That little man with the yellow beard, who has nothing but talent… In short… all this overwhelms me, saddens me, disgusts me with life! I sleep only with drugs.
If anyone had told me that I should be in such a state after an honourable mention!…
And no one to talk to!
If only Julian would have the good idea of coming! In short it is truly dreadful to keep silent. I could not say it to my own family… I never speak to them, and besides they are at the circus with the Engelhardts.
And I am coughing!
I must calm down!
The mention, the painting hung on high, the parties I hear about as though I were in Poltava or the middle of nowhere, Bastien-Lepage and the rest.
And the spring… Because to be wretched in spring seems doubly vexing…
I must calm down…