Diary of a Drug Fiend

216 The Diary of a Drug Fiend little birds that fly off it, that come and burrow in one’s skin | I just feel the prick of the beak, and then it dis- appears. They were messengers from the other world. There is a little nest of them in my liver. It is very curious to hear them chirping when they want food. I don’t know what they’ll do so far away from their mother. | It is horrible not being able to sleep. That, too, must be a preparation for the new life. I wandered up all alone to the magic room, and sat with my hands on the table opposite the old man, trying to get him to talk. His lips move, but I can’t hear what he says. I was disturbed, of course. I always am being dis- turbed. I am so tired. Why won’t they let me alone ? This time it was a shot. The magic room has windows all around it. I went to see who could have fired. It was very bright moonlight ; but I could see nothing. Then there came another flash and report. I went round to the side it came from, and watched. It was by the lake. I watched a long time. Then a crouching figure hidden among the reeds sprang up, put a gun to its shoulder and fired twice in rapid succession. Then it screamed, and ran to the house throwing away its gun. I wonder what it could be. September 20 I have found a manuscript in grandfather’s room that tells you how to invoke the Devil. It needs two people, and I don’t feel sure about Peter. He can’t see into the spiritual world at all. On the contrary, he is getting a little queer in the head, and imagines he sees things which don’t exist at all. He’s constantly scratching himself. He behaved very strangely at dinner. I think the butler noticed it. At midnight we went up to the old man’s room and