Havana, Saturday, June 8, 1912.
I am gradually but inevitably coming to the conclusion that the only way to get along is to throw over all that I do believe in and pay the price. If I had done this before I might have been saved much of this petty personal struggle and put my divine energy into bigger things. I have let false conventions battle with the natural love of freedom and radicalism of an artistic nature, frittered away life forces in unholy passions where I might have put it into the big struggle. Now I will conquer or die, victory or death. Death even by my own hand is preferable to frittering the tremendous passion and nervous and mental energy I have away in a life of conventional ease, despising myself and hating others, and being hated. Oh! if I had only conserved instead of wasted, but even now at the eleventh hour it is not too late. Now, to-day, I will go forward to my fate.