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Wed - Palos-1921 The days go by in a unclear - each a little unclear and unclear. unclear night when was first and now the unclearof the unclearwillunclear. I'm going forward with the novel - some 80,000 words written. It will be long, perhaps 129,000 words. It is a unclear expression to me anyway. I'm feeling my way unclear and into these new people the actual flesh and blood people of my unclearlife unclear unclear unclear. They are for the time like unclear, playing over the unclear hill. I am very well and for the time period. The figures unclear themselves. There is unclear unclear. My unclear is filled with people, laughing, perplexed, troubled. I embrace these days. There are no plans for tomorrows and just now no yesterdays. If you get but an impersonal sense of me these days its true enough. I am like that. My love to you just the same.