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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
35
August
9.
I
do
not
ever
like
going
to
bed.
For
me
each
day
ends
in
a
little
sorrow.
I
hate
the
time
when
it
comes
to
put
my
books
away,
to
knock
out
my
pipe
and
say
"Good-night,"
exchanging
the
vivid
pleasures
of
the
day
for
the
darkness
of
sleep
and
oblivion.
August
23.
Spent
the
afternoon
and
evening
till
ten
in
the
woods
with
Mary
----.
Had
tea
in
the
Haunted
House,
and
after
sat
in
the
Green
Arbor
until
dark,
when
I
kissed
her.
"Achilles
was
not
the
worse
warrior
for
his
probation
in
petticoats."
September
1.
I
hope
to
goodness
she
doesn't
think
I
want
to
marry
her.
In
the
Park
in
the
dark,
kissing
her.
I
was
testing
and
experimenting
with
a
new
experience.
September
4.
Last
evening,
after
much
mellifluous
cajolery,
induced
her
to
kiss
me.
My
private
opinion
about
this
whole
affair
is
that
all
the
time
I
have
been
at
least
twenty
degrees
below
real
love
heat.
In
any
case
I
am
constitutionally
and
emotionally
unfaithful.
I
said
things
which
I
did
not
believe
just
because
it
was
dark
and
she
was
charming.
September
5.
Read
Thomas
à
Kempis
in
the
train.
It
made
me
so
angry
I
nearly
flung
it
out
of
the
window.
"Meddle
not
with
things
that
be
too
deep
for
thee,"
he
says,
"but
read
such
things
as
yield
compunction
to
the
heart
rather
than
elevation
to
the
head."
Forsooth!
Can't
you
see
me?
September
15.
A
puzzling
afternoon:
weather
perfect,
the
earth
green
and
humming
like
a
top,
yet
a
web
of
dream
overlaid
the
great
hill,
and
at
certain
moments,
which
recurred
in
a
kind
of
pulsation,
accompanied
by
subjective
feelings
of
vague
strife
and
effort,
I
easily
succeeded
in
letting
all
I
saw--the
field
and
the
blackberry
bush,
the
whole
valley
and
the
apple
orchards--change
into
something
unreal,
flimsy,
gauzelike,
immaterial,
and
totally
unexperienced.
Suddenly
when
the
impression
was
most
vivid,
the
whole
of
this
mysterious
tapestry
would
vanish
away
and
I
was
back
where
2
and
2
make
4.
Oh!
Earth!
how
jealously
you
guard
your
secrets!
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