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