Then I went after work in the same spirit; called on the Chamber of Commerce, was referred to two reliable employment agencies, went to the typewriter companies, and visited one prospective employer. On Tuesday I visited three, and could probably have landed one, but my old bugaboo, the reaction, had begun to set in, and at 5 o’clock Tuesday, after lying down in my room at the hotel I got up, hurriedly dressed, rushed to the railroad ticket office, and asked to have my baggage stopped. My ticket had gone in for refund, and the freight agent promised to telegraph immediately to hold baggage if not already sent. Yesterday I found it had been sent, and now await returns on that and my ticket. When I got these I thought of going on to Frisco and ending it all there. Last night I wrote a despairing letter home, offering to return if they would send me $50, but did not mail it, and this morning tore it up, merely writing saying I would be here until the latter part of this month in case the family had any proposition to make to me or money to send. If they ask me to return and send some money, I probably will. Otherwise I shall probably go to Frisco with a week or two week’s expenses in my pocket after paying fare, and finishing this story. I say probably in both cases because I now realize my hopeless lack of will-power, my whole life practically being impulse with a delusive current of purpose running through it. =--, February 6, 1913, 10:37 P. M.= This morning I cast out hope. To-night I feel that beneath all my degeneracy and weakness, I am a genius and I feel that I cannot die without leaving something behind. No, I will fight. It is harder for my yielding, but I cannot give up without a struggle. Somewhere and at some time I must prove that I am something besides a weakling. Good and evil predominate by turns, love and hate, weakness and strength. Reconciliation is the solution. I have just read an article in The International for November, 1911--“J. William Lloyd, Philosopher of the Paradox,” and it gives me new faith in myself. =Denver, Colo., February 8, 1913.= Yesterday was a good day. I went to bed feeling the same way as when I wrote the above, and even felt I had made a discovery, or rather discovered or realized an old truth in its application to my case, namely, moderation. Instead of going to the extreme in one direction as I have done, I said go as far as the conditions permit, but cease before the pleasure does. Applying this to intellect it would mean study philosophy, but don’t overwork it--dream with the poets, but not too much. In this plan, Strindberg, Shaw, Ibsen, and others all have their place.