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  • Writer's pictureCorbin Allardice

August 17, 1911

Yes, I was so close to hysteria. It only lasted a few minutes, I suppose. I felt emptied, and the more time passed--the stronger the feeling grew. Something was choking me, but suddenly a light shone in my consciousness: hysteria became light and good. I freed myself.

How should I interpret this contradiction? I want hysteria--let the people know! I don’t want hysteria: I know, it is a mark of unworthiness. Hysteria means disavowing in your soul, as with people, that you are, supposedly, one with yourself. But still, that word works upon the blind and primordial in my soul like a talisman upon a ghost.

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