TUESDAY, AUGUST 1, 1944

Dearest Kitty,

"A bundle of contradictions" was the end of my previous letter and is the beginning of this one. Can you please tell me exactly what "a bundle of contradictions" is? What does "contradiction" mean? Like so many words, it can be interpreted in two ways: a contradiction imposed from without and one imposed from within. The former means not accepting other peoples opinions, always knowing best, having the last word; in short, all those unpleasant traits for which Im known. The latter, for which Im not known, is my own secret.

As Ive told you many times, Im split in two. One side contains my exuberant cheerfulness, my flippancy, my joy in life and, above all, my abthty to appreciate the lighter side of things. By that I mean not finding anything wrong with flirtations, a kiss, an embrace, an off-color joke. This side of me is usually lying in wait to ambush the other one, which is much purer, deeper and finer. No one knows Annes better side, and thats why most people cant stand me. Oh, I can be an amusing clown for an afternoon, but after that everyones had enough of me to last a month. Actually, Im what a romantic movie is to a profound thinker -- a mere diversion, a comic interlude, something that is soon forgotten: not bad, but not particularly good either. I hate haVing to tell you this, but why shouldnt I admit it when I know its true? My lighter, more superficial side will always steal a march on the deeper side and therefore always win. You cant imagine how often Ive tried to p:ush away this Anne, which is only half of what is known as Anne-to beat her down, hide her. But it doesnt work, and I know why.

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