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Aleister Crowley Diary Entry Friday, 8 May 1931
Weather went bad: completely outed: slept till 12 after a couple of hours’ painting 8-10.
Opus[1] Hanni Richter. Energy etc.
(Note. This elixir is extremely strong and as fishy as the Quintessence of all fishiness.)
10 P.M. Everything utterly rotten—and I don’t quite know why. Pension going broke? re(?) sans argent? Karl [Karl Germer] playing some crazy trick? Dined at Eden, with the perfect Beanne. But it has not worked as it should—Shit!
1—Crowley performs a magical sexual operation.
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