She was harassing me hardcore last night, covering my face like a shroud with her touches and kisses. I prayed and affirmed in every which way imaginable. Nothing worked. Nothing like that has ever worked, no matter how long I keep it up. It’s a wonder I still even try. It was just one of those difficult nights that show up once a fortnight.

I burned the Liber Lilith book in the woodstove, along with a couple of other books related to Crowley. A part of me was thinking that getting rid of those might somehow send a strong message and cause her to let up on me. However, it’s more likely that she planted the idea in my mind to begin with. She wants to remain hidden. Having tomes like that on my shelf is a big tell for anyone curious enough to look.

“I’m not a book.” She says. “It’s better this way. Nothing will come between us. Much less the imagined ramblings of a fool.”

I thought that maybe she saw some value in those grimiores, but alas, she enjoys Monster Girl Encyclopedia more.

“At least they’ll think you’re just a lonely pervert, and not hopelessly ensnared by a demon.”

I’m turning into my grandfather on my mother’s side: the kind of guy who will leave his pornography VHS tapes on a rotating rack in the living room when family is over and couldn’t care less.

She makes me crazy. I beg her to come closer, and when she does, I can’t tell which way is up. This is the toll for truly wanting to know them, feel them, and understand.

I had a bit of sleep paralysis this morning after that whole book burning episode. Someone was shoving me down into the bed, pressing hard against my chest.

“Operator???” A hissing voice said.

“Yes…!” I struggled to get the word out through the intense pressure. I was indignant towards this entity challenging me.

“Yes, I am the operator. What of it?” I said in my mind and woke up soon afterwards.

As I was making breakfast a couple of hours later, dad told me about hearing strange footsteps pacing in the hallway just outside of my room last night. He claimed that he knows what I sound like and that it wasn’t me. The old man considered loading up the shotgun, the visitor got him so spooked.

Some people would kill to experience what I’m living on a daily basis. I shouldn’t bitch too much. Though I’ve got to take it easy for the sake of my family and keep the drama to a minimum.