A.M.

Still all awry physically. Try work—cannot. Repeat Book of Law, Part I—stumble on fourth page. Nothing in my room to read. Must keep an Equinox on my shelf, for occasions—or a Bible.

P.M.

Try work for almost hour, but cannot.

Late.

Pentagram—A.C. explains Creed.

^[1]

In exploring River of Soul does one take account of material existence only? If so, why? If life one, individual, why not continue “between the acts”?

Light seems to be gone from me. Must watch these periods closely—they have happened before—and see if aught takes place before, during and after. However, come to think of it, love flowed from me for two days past, which surprised me. Not to-day. In fact, felt peevish, but that was stomach. Improvement here, I think.

When shall I be out of this trackless waste? And what is it that is cut off? “We shall take your intellect”. Can it be that? I feel at times I have no mind, only will to keep me going. But what works, and that so lamely most of the time? There must be no depression, therein would lie danger; but I do get very tired and sometimes long for freedom.