The power of the wicked one

Sometimes I'm searching through my tropical apartment here - a crumble-down, tumble-down old tenement in the raw effluviant guts of the city - and the thing will come upon me. 

It is a strange thing: a kind of spell. I will be looking for something that I was supposed to take with me downstairs for work or whatever, and it will seem as if it disappeared. 

Actually, it is just lost temporarily, but for me, it's like it's been moved intentionally by another super-dimensional agent. 

The kind of chaos that results in my mind is unfathomable. 

I will think for instance that that thing has disappeared from physical reality; Or was it actually real to begin with. We are talking about simple things here. Red pens and toothbrushes. The staples of a teacher. I will suddenly think that reality has somehow ceased to operate according to rules and logic, and that reality is somehow becoming hellish and uncooperative. That I'm being cursed by the laws of physics, or quantum physics, or whatever is beyond that.

So I go along with it, this feeling; and it feels with all that's in me, that I will not find the thing; keys, wallet; documents for work; whatever it may be. . . 

And this causes a resignation and a panic to set in. I feel that I'm cursed forever, that I'm doomed with this curse by reality. And the worst part of all: I JUST ACCEPT IT.

And it makes me so negative and feel so unworthy of living. 

That is surely a supernatural thing. A thing caused by the devil. 

The Devil