A/n: Heads up. My description of the magics will probably be a little confusing. It makes sense to me but I know it won't make sense to everybody. Don't read too fast and just go with it.
I abandoned trying to keep track of time. The girl obviously was not going to write in my diary anytime soon, so I bide my time by categorizing the magics that I felt. They weren't visible or tangible, but I could feel them as if it mixed with the imagined air.
The magic that captured most of my interest was a dark magic that came in sporadic incursions ranging from nonexistent to a trickle to a surge of power. It was a magic that possessed the intention of invoking a reaction. It was like a gray scale with the lightest gray being restless and gaining increasing mischief that transformed into violence as it got darker. I secretly hoped this magic reflected the state of the world and that I or my followers were the cause.
The most constant magic flow was undeniably light magic. Despite being the most prevalent, it was also the weakest and least remarkable. Sometimes, there would be a spike in the influx that was worth more attention. This white magic would transform from a peaceful and uninteresting energy to something of a warm pressure that made me uneasy. It didn't have the intention of violence like the previously mentioned magic but it was surprisingly daunting.
Later, when I better familiarized myself with these magics, it became easier to feel the magical energy and I made some observations. For the most part, the gray and white energies kept out of each other's way. However, on the rare occasion that his diary absorbed violent dark gray or black magic, the light magic warmed me as it brightened to burn away the evil. If I had a body, I think I would actually get burned with the heated pressure I felt. All that would be left was light magic, and if I was a lesser dark lord, I would fidget at the complete tranquility that filled my space.
My other observation was that neither magic, including the white one, was permanent. It came in but simultaneously dissipated at a slower rate. I only noticed this because the black magic that I loved so much would fade away eventually when the inflow stopped even without the white magic attacking it. The white magic, with its nearly continuous flow, filled more and more of my "room", but at the rate it was going, it only made noticeable increases when the floodgates opened to wash away the black magic.
The strongest magic I have so far felt came in occurrences far and few between. It was an old magic but oddly felt new at the same time. It did not make sense. It was neither light nor dark. For some reason, I imagined it to look blue if it had a color. Unlike the other magics that lingered, this one disappeared as quickly as it came. Perhaps, this magic was so unique and fleeting, it did not seep into my paper at all, but it was so powerful that I could still sense it outside my confines.
Categorizing the magics was an interesting method to pass the time and all, but otherwise, it has been utterly unproductive. I am no closer to manipulating the weakest of minds! Oh great! There goes another one of those fiery floods of white magic. Farewell, my comforting black magic! This much good magic is starting to turn me mad! I'm starting to hear voices! If I must turn mad, why could not these voices at least speak English?! And what insane man would be haunted by the sounds of running water, clanking pots, bells, and singing birds? Wait a minute….