12th September 1888
12th September 1888
What a night! No sleep, just dreams, red dreams, warm, cloying redness everywhere. The headaches are worse than before. Even the laudanum didn’t stop them. See what these foul w****s have done to me. Now they’ve robbed me of my sleep, my rest. They’ll pay, oh yes, I’ll make them pay. I walked miles today, no cabs, and the streets were filled with little insignificant people, worms and insects. The smell of the streets was an assault on my senses, but I had to go. If the laudanum won’t work any more, I need something else, must stop the pain. Thought of visiting ‘T’, but he knows me too well. Instead found myself on the street where Cavendish lives. What a grand façade, he does live well. Presented myself and was shown to the drawing room. He seemed
