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knowing small things about you, the color of your dress when you write me the letter, in what part of your room are you sitting now where you read this letter (or it's in the street) or something, just about you - you wrote me for a long time, the happy days when I used to receive from you long letters (in August, September or even shortley after I left you while still in India) long letters and ideas of other people including Huxley who's too intelligent and has the right ideas always and it's true what he says but I want to know what you say or think, with your words - What I want and I asked you long ago is a good healthy love letter and I never got one and I write you many, simple ones, and when I felt to overcome by love for you and at the same time conditions around were too special or rough, things you can't have idea about, I just wrote you a hasty letter just to remind you of me but I never elaborated things or camouflaged them and what you try to interprete in some of my letters in just misunderstanding department - I have in mind the last letter of you, the one I got in China, [[crossed-out]] where [[/crossed-out]] in which you