masterx, 48 - 5 марта 2009 19:49

Monday 1st November, 2004: -

...and then he is overcome by that moroseness which I dread and fear so much. There is a quality of deep anger and bitterness to his moroseness; it is not sadness, or self-pity, or despair, or disappointment – none of those things – it has a quality of darkness about it, and something horribly magnetic. The other night he asked me if I believed in the devil; “No” I said, “why?”
“because I think he's getting hold of me”
And somehow – in spite of not believing in the devil – I knew what he meant by this. “Oh” I said, then, “don't worry – everything's going to be allright”
“How do you know?” - and as well as irritation, there was supplication in the question, as if I were his last desperate hope...

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