which one could never decide, we agreed on a tuxedo, which, because of its similarity to the usual sack coat, seemed to me at least bearable. But when I heard that the
vest of the tuxedo had to be cut low and I would therefore have to wear a stiff shirt as well, my determination almost exceeded my strength, since something like this
had to be averted. I did not want such a tuxedo, rather, if I had to have one, a tuxedo lined and trimmed with silk indeed, but one that could be buttoned high. The tailor
had never heard of such a tuxedo, but he remarked that no matter what I intended to do with such a jacket, it couldn’t be worn for dancing. Good, then it couldn’t be
worn for dancing, I didn’t want to dance anyhow, that hadn’t been decided on yet in any case, on the contrary, I wanted the jacket made for me as I had described it.
The tailor’s stubbornness was increased by the fact that until now I had always submitted with shamed haste to being measured for new clothes and to having them tried
on, without expressing any opinions or wishes. So there was nothing else for me to do, and also since my mother insisted on it, but to go with him, painful as it was,
across the Altstädster Ring to a second-hand clothing store in the window of which I had for quite some time seen displayed a simple tuxedo and had recognized it as
suitable for me. But unfortunately it had already been removed from the window, I could not see it inside the store even by looking my hardest, I did not dare to go into
the store just to look at the tuxedo, so we returned, disagreeing as before. I felt as though the future tuxedo was already cursed by the uselessness of this errand, at
least I used my annoyance with the pros and cons of the argument as an excuse to send the tailor away with some small order or other and an indefinite promise about
the tuxedo while I, under the reproaches of my mother, remained wearily behind, barred forever—everything happened to me forever—from girls, an elegant
appearance, and dances. The instantaneous cheerfulness that this induced in me made me miserable, and besides, I was afraid that I had made myself ridiculous before
the tailor as none of his customers ever had before.
3 January. Read a good deal in Die Neue Rundschau. Beginning of the novel Der Nackte Mann [The Naked Man]. The clarity of the whole a little too thin,
sureness in the details. Gabriel Schillings Flucht {Gabriel Schilling’s Flight] by Hauptmann. Education of people. Instructive in the bad and the good.
New Year’s Eve I had planned to read to Max from the diaries in the afternoon, I looked forward to it, and it did not come off. We were not in tune, I felt a calculating
pettiness and haste in him that afternoon, he was almost not my friend but nevertheless still dominated me to the extent that through his eyes I saw myself uselessly
leafing through the notebooks over and over again, and found this leafing back and forth, which continually showed the same pages flying by, disgusting. It was naturally
impossible to work together in this mutual tension, and the one page of Richard and Samuel that we finished amidst mutual resistance is simply proof of Max’s energy,
but otherwise bad. New Year’s Eve at Cada’s. Not so bad, because Weltsch, Kisch, and someone else added new blood so that finally, although only within the limits
of that group, I again found my way back to Max. I then pressed his hand on the crowded Graben, though without looking at him, and with my three notebooks pressed
to me, as I remember, proudly went straight home.
The fern-shaped flames blazing up from a melting pot on the street in front of a building under construction.
It is easy to recognize a concentration in me of all my forces on writing. When it became clear in my organism that writing was the most productive direction for my
being to take, everything rushed in that direction and left empty all those abilities which were directed towards the joys of sex, eating, drinking, philosophical reflection,