Saturday, July 19:
Still nothing much to write about; great weariness has overcome me as a result of sleepless nights. I do not find the loneliness here as beneficial as in Tribschen; it is not so sheltered, and the longer the struggle for existence lasts, the greater one’s longing for liberation. But things take their own course, and life’s atonement must be fulfilled.
We begin Uhland’s The Myth of Thor. R. tells me that he has added a Glockenspiel to Brünnhilde’s farewell, as an eccentric element, as if the flames were flickering joyfully.
When I tell R. my feelings about life, he says: “Yes, one must create things; just to toil, and to produce others who will also have to toil, is pointless.”