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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
118
Had
two
glasses
of
port
at
the
Kensington
Hotel,
conversed
with
the
barmaid,
and
then
came
home.
December
10.
"Don't
be
an
old
fossil,"
she
said
to
me
to-night,
irrelevantly.
"A
propos
of
what?"
I
inquired.
"Mother,
here's
W----
proposing
to
E----!
Do
come,"
cried
----,
with
intent
to
confuse.
I
laughed
heartlessly.
Dear,
dear,
where
will
it
all
end?
It's
a
sad
business
when
you
fall
in
love
with
a
girl
you
don't
like.
December
26.
Spent
a
romping
day
at
the
Flat.
Kissed
her
sister
twice
under
the
mistletoe,
and
in
the
evening
went
to
a
cinema.
After
supper
made
a
mock
heroic
speech
and
left
hilarious.
[1]
"The
life
of
the
Soul
is
different;
there
is
nothing
more
changing,
more
varied,
more
restless
...
to
describe
the
incidents
of
one
hour
would
require
an
eternity."--Journal
of
Eugénie
de
Guérin.
[2]
See
entry
for
November
27,
1915.
1914
February
4.
...
Finally
and
in
conclusion
I
have
fallen
ill
again,
have
again
resumed
my
periodical
visits
to
the
Doctor,
and
am
swallowing
his
rat-poison
in
a
blind
faith
as
aforetime.
In
fact,
I
am
in
London,
leading
the
same
solitary
life,
seeing
no
one,
talking
to
no
one,
and
daily
struggling
with
this
demon
of
ill-health.
Can
no
one
exorcise
him?
The
sight
of
both
my
eyes
is
affected
now.
Blindness?
B----
continues
whoring,
drinking,
sneering.
R----
as
usual,
devoid
of
emotion,
cold,
passionless,
Shavian,
and
self-absorbed,
still
titillates
his
mind
with
etching,
sociology,
music,
etc.,
and
I
have
at
last
ceased
to
bore
him
with
what
he
probably
calls
the
febrile
utterances
of
an
overwrought
mind.
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