You may call me a heartless blackguard, a criminal or anything you like, but by God, I am not in the least sorry for our killed. I don’t care what happens to our men. I didn’t order them to be killed. If men will rend and kill each other, let them, by all means; it has nothing to do with me. + 

The house seems deserted and full of horrors invisible. Last year, at this time, we were in the country, Lidotchka was with us and no foreboding of ill. + 

I wonder sometimes when I look at Peter and Jena, my two youngest children, whether it wouldn’t be best to tie a piece of cord around their necks and jump off the Troitsky Bridge with them into the water. No one wants them, they are miserable, neglected little “cells.” They keep on crying all the time. Peter nearly cut his head against the table, and came to me to kiss his bump and pity him, but I can’t pity. Poor children! Their mother is in the hospital looking after the wounded⁠—doing her duty; their father, like Satan, rummages about the streets for peace of mind, and they are left with a stupid nurse and a half-witted grandmother. What an existence! + 

What a strange animal man is! I can make my blood flow with one prick of my knife⁠—but I can’t wring a single tear. I can’t sleep in consequence, and am frightened of my sofa. I sleep in my study now, on the sofa. That is to say, I toss about the livelong white night. The light comes in at window, for there are no curtains over it. + 

Last night, tired of tossing about, I got up, and from three to five o’clock I sat on my windowsill smoking, and looking out on the dead town. It was as light as day and not a soul to be seen anywhere. Like ours, the house opposite has many windows, both up- and downstairs. Not a single sign of life was to be seen in any of them. + 

I had nothing on but my pants and shirt, and I sat there or paced the room, barefoot, wondering whether I had gone mad. + 

By day my study is an ordinary room, and I an ordinary man, but I wonder what people would think if they saw us at night? I am barefoot at this moment, and have nothing on but my pants. + 

What makes me write all this? + 