20 October 1922

La Prieuré, Fontainebleau, Avon

The world as I know it is no joy to me and I am useless in it. People are almost nonexistent. This world to me is a dream and the people in it are sleepers. I have known just instances of waking but that is all. I want to find a world in which these instances are united. Shall I succeed? I do not know. I scarcely care. What is important is to try & learn to live - really live, and in relation to everything - not isolated (this isolation is death to me).
Does this sound fabulous? I cannot help it. I have to let you know for you mean much to me. I know you will never listen to whatever foolish things other people may say about me. Those other helpless people going round in their little whirlpool do not matter a straw to me.
I will send you my address this week. In the meantime all is forwarded from the Select Hotel by Ida Baker, with whom I must part company for a time.
I press your hands, dear dear friend
Katherine.
All this sounds much too serious and dramatic. As a matter of fact there is absolutely no tragedy in it, of course. [To S. S. Koteliansky, 19 October 1922.]