.MTU2Mg.MTM3MTcy

I wasn't too discouraged to ever think of trying. The things wrote then were genuinely bad, I know. But I did continue to feel that I had something to say, that I had an unusual background in my life in Lorain, in my mother's neurotic colour complex, and more especially in the detachment which my years, nearly six now, here in London have given me. Along with this I was under a very heavy debt to you for what at the time I tho't [sic] was a very nasty letter, but which I know now was one of the kindest letters I have ever had - one which has made me, as near as it is humanly possible to do so, forget rare consciousness and loathe the propaganda