Sunday, August 13, 2006


When I came in today, I found someone reading my journal. For a moment, it disturbed me. I know I have no expectation of privacy. That is impossible here. But sometimes I forget.

Fortunately, I have no secrets. Only questions. Questions to which I may never know the answers to. Such as why do the demons throw people into the void? Why do they suck the life out of them? Why do they burrow? Amongst hundreds of millions of dead, why was I chosen?

Mercutio doesn't concern himself with such matters. He has a job to do and he gets it done. That's what I like about him.

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