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Aleister Crowley Diary Entry Tuesday, 18 March 1924
die Mars.
Slept fairly well—1 Gardenal[1] to help—but woke more rationally depressed than ever. Obliged to use Ethel [Ether] and aq[uarius] [Heroin] to overcome dyspnoea—at the same time hating both more than ever. Ultimately, concentrating my Will, I got up, had myself shaved (head included) tried to 'phone Frank Harris—quite in vain: the system is worse than ever—lunched at Lavenue's—tried to buy a History of France—n[o] g[ood] and got back to bed about 2, exhausted and breathing very heavily, but feeling very much better, after a few minutes of Ethel and repose. Still not a word from O.P.V. [Norman Mudd]. Will write Bernard Harrison—if he breaks his promise to call to-day—Frank H[arris] if I can't get him on 'phone—and Reggie Gouraud.
5.20 P.M. I am now aware of a curious internal weakening. I do not want to write those letters. It is the fear (that is hardly the word) of their proving useless. But—whatever the word—this is one of my great faults! I seem to prefer to remain uncertain about people: hoping they will act decently. I dislike the idea of having to cut them out of my pretty picture of an agreeable society!
5.40 P.M. Yes: a distinct physical weakening. My attention flags.
6.5 P.M. Mystic Oracle (from last night).
N a m e s m e a n n o t h i n g
6.6 P.M. A little decent feeling now saves a lot of poison gas later. (I now see that this is a mere adaptation of "A stitch in time saves nine") The Oracle (above) had a very special meaning when I got it. The total unreality of words is implied, for one thing.
6.15 There is a reason why the Fool must be the man to save the world; for were he not a Fool, he would be a Knave.
11.50 P.M. Have been writing "Prospero Ariel and Caliban"
1—Gardenal contains phenobarbital, a barbituate.
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