Friday, March 16, 2007
But they're gone. I sometimes think about my life, but I know it does me no good. There's no point dwelling on what was. I must focus on what is.
My partner, Mercutio, is one of them, but despite his obsession with Arrabella, he still performs his duties exceptionally well. Most of the Guardians do.
I constantly see dead soldiers, warriors, conquerors, and I wonder why I was chosen and they were not.
Perhaps it is our ability to focus, our resolute determination not to give up. Perhaps that is why I am a Guardian and others who are more skilled in the arts of war are not.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Sunday, November 05, 2006
What is life if this is the afterlife? Why go through the struggles of that existence only to end up here? This defies most known religious doctrines that I have encountered.
Of course, I'm encountering new doctrines daily. In the wake of disillusionment, new myths are formed; new religions created from the ashes of the old. Perhaps the worst of these is that of the Pain People.
Their beliefs are fairly simple: we were created to suffer. And if we were created to suffer then suffer we must -- to the best of our ability!
While this certainly mimics the first Noble Truth of Buddhism, unlike Buddhism there is no Eightfold Path to Nirvana.
Their conversion tool is the paranid, or pain worm. Once the worm attaches itself, it creates a feeling of intense agony. I've found no way to detach the worm without obliterating its host at the same time.
Of course, I've noticed the pain worms are forced upon most of their "worshippers." I guess it doesn't matter to them. Why should it? Did it matter to the Inquisition?
Monday, October 23, 2006
The priest looked down at the boy with pity and sighed, "You poor dumb bastard. Does this look like heaven to you?"
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?