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322 [[strikethrough]] Saturday, November 17, 1928 [[/strikethrough]] bcdfghjhl in u fsg rstw Jan. 18th 1931 To sail a million million miles away And find where blue horizon meets the sky, And see the splendid sun rise up to die Once more in golden glory, and to stay A million, million years some place where time Is infinite; where there is quiet peace; Where beauty seems to silently increase Her [[?permit]]. Where reason is o'er thrown by rhyme And fantasy & gladness are supreme, Where no one wears a gaudy, shucky mash, And no one watns to trouble you or ask The why or when; where life's a living dream – I want to sail away and be alive – Not bothered by my friends or telephone. But since the "Sheet" has cut our wealth in two, I really think that [[?loc]] farm would do 323 Sunday, November 18, 1928 bcdfghyhlmnyzgrstw bcdfghyalmnysqrstw [[strikethrough]] I send you once [[/strikethrough]] To T.O.G. [[strikethrough]] And since I saw you then I am afraid that either of two things as true my de [[/strikethrough]] I see you [[strikethrough]] once again, my [[/strikethrough]] now within a different world, Which seems to you like some great masquerade Of which you are afraid to be afraid A place where everything is rightly [[?tinted]] With [[strikethrough]] tinsel [[/strikethrough]] guady tinsel, artificial gold, With people all alike [[strikethrough]] all uniform [[/strikethrough]] in thoughts who wear Grand uniforms, where brazen noises blare Most hoarsely forth. It's not our world of old. [[strikethrough]] And yet you don't belong to this, although you feel that you [[/strikethrough]] Oh can't you see you're not a pall of this Because you don't believe in it, or feel It is your world. Oh simple darling see It is (4) as (2) it (3). Oh, tell me don't you miss The other world. It's still alive & real – As you, my [[?darling]], [[?]] & ought to be.