Wednesday, 1 August 1883

Thursday, 2 August 1883
I should like to know what effect I produce on my noble readers. Do I seem like an unhappy person? Am I pitied? That would humiliate me — and yet...
It seems to me that my eyes are failing. For more than ten years I have had some indefinable thing in the right eye — as though the eye were pulled to the right — and sometimes it is not like the other; at moments it seems to me smaller, and above all less bright. The doctor has sworn there is nothing wrong. And yet I think of it constantly.
It is stupid, all these misfortunes.