226 The Diary of a Drug Fiend
might manifest my glory, and he would fall down at
my feet and worship me. After all, he has a wonderful
destiny himself; like St. Joseph—or else perhaps he
may be the Dragon that will try to destroy me and
the Messiah. ,
In my position the actual H. isn’t really necessary
any more than food is. The spiritual idea is sufficient.
That I suppose is the lesson I had to learn. I had been
relying on the stuff itself. It says in the Bible ‘‘ Angels
came and ministered unto him.” My angels will
bring me the manna that cometh down from heaven.
I am perfectly happy. It is sublime not to be de-
pendent any more on earthly things. Keletiel came and
told me to go and prophesy to Peter, so I will hide
away the diary. I must think of a new place every
time, else Peter will find out where I keep it, or the
old man may be hunting around in his astral body
and take it away. I have been very careful what I
wrote ; but he might discover some of the secrets and
ruin everything.
There’s another trouble. I can only remember
spiritual things clearly. The material world is fading
out. It would be disaster if I forgot where I hid it.
Basil would never forgive me.
I will hide it in the chimney, then I can always look
up where I put it....
Whatis dreadfulis the length of time. With H. or
C. or both, there is never a dull moment; without
them the hours, the very minutes, drag. It’s difficult
to read or write. My eyes won’t focus properly. They
have been open to the spiritual world, they can’t see
anything else. It’s hard, too, to control the hands.
I can’t form the letters properly.
This waiting is hellish. Waiting for something to
happen! I can think of nothing but H. Everything
in the body is wrong. It aches intolerably. Even a
single dose would put everything right.
It makes me forget who I am, and the wonderful