I roared through the mountains in my roadster, cure howling and tasting death at every stinging curve. I descended into verdant hills drenched in the perfume of wildflowers. Nature is a whore and I cleave through her lush valleys.
Symboles: I paused at the edge of a field, lay on my back and looked up at the clouds floating past. It was utterly trivial and meaningless.
Fureur: In my dreams I was denied by Peter- once, twice, three times. The demon wives came and tore my body to shreds. It reminds me of the wretched mistake of being in love.
Jour quatre: Today I visited the ruins of a castle. A large encampment of gypsies had gathered there to celebrate a pagan easter rite. Their murderous eyes surveyed me where they sat with bell and cup and fiddle. Sharp, thieving glances took in my watch fob, diamond pin, and monogrammed silk handkerchief. But there was something in my eyes they did not like for they suddenly fell back, muttering and kissing the amulets that hung from their swarthy necks. Could they see that I am a cursed and fallen man? That I live lawlessly without morals or hope of any kind? I rode on, leaving the fallen stronghold to the gypsies.