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Vienna, June 29, 1918
IX., Berggasse 19
Dear friend,
I stopped work a few hours ago. I am still not so free as to perceive totally the blissful feeling: Hans im Glück.1 But it will come.
There has been no news from Martin for a week. Since we knew he was in the offensive, it was not pleasant at all, and this time I felt the anxiety about him with more torment than usual, indeed perhaps real torment for the first time, and I also brushed off such obvious assurances as the one that the heavy artillery hasn't crossed the river at all. Analysis then showed me the presumed neurotic contribution. There was also envy of the sons in it, of which I had otherwise felt nothing, and, in fact, envy on account of youth. A green card finally came again yesterday.2 Oli, who is also at the Piave, hadn't yet arrived during those critical days.
I hope that July in Budapest won't be hotter than June. Otherwise there will be the danger that I won't be able to stand it at all. In this extreme case I have to bolt, and God only knows where to. My work plans are much more modest than yours. Nothing is firm besides the Interpretation of Dreams. I expect to find the literary aids for it in Dr. Freund's library. I think that only when I come to self-realization will a great tiredness materialize.
The analysis with our host was very interesting. Since it has as its aim the remaking of a person, I am permitted to continue it beyond the disappearance