How many have come before us?
We can rattle off those we know... but what about those we never knew existed? After all, even in this modern age of instant messenger and worldwide communication, only a fraction of us make it into The Community.
If He That Is was created by the internet as first believed, the number of victims could be anywhere from a few hundred to a few thousand.
If He That Is falls back to the Old Kingdoms (or if He has Always Been), it could very well be that He has already broken and shredded hundreds of thousands, millions, or maybe even billions of people.
No matter which you believe, there is another name to add to the list tonight.
Reach, aka Raymond Shaughnessy.
He will be missed.
Sitting here tonight, glancing between my laptop screen and the window that frames the treeline He normally appears amongst, I can't help but let my thoughts wander over the Veterans and what torture they've either survived, or gotten claimed by. They have walked through Hell and now bear both the mental and physical scars of the fight. They hang on by the threads of their failing existences, desperate to find that next theory that could very well change everything. They run. They fight. They break, crash, and burn. They inspire and encourage. They oppose Him until they lose their minds, bodies, and, eventually, their souls... at which point the rest of the community is left to mourn in whatever fashion suits.
I'd imagine, somewhere, a Proxy will get a bullet between the eyes tonight.
It's not ENTIRELY "right", of course, but frustration is ever-mounting and Proxies do have a habit of... pestering, usually. Compulsions can overtake logic rather easily in times of grief.
We lash out.
We lash out... and take the place of those that fell.
The Community shifts.
We become the Veterans.
We become the new "Leaders" for the new "newbies" in the Community...
...and destroy ourselves in the process.
It's the fate of everyone who enters this Game. Once He's there, once he Sees You... it's sand in an hourglass. Just a matter of time until you earn your scars. Until you break. Until you become the next inspiration.
It's just how it is~
It seems so trivial to mention this now, but for anyone who was wondering about "Five things"...
A step on the basement stairs at work broke under my foot.
Thankfully, I fell forwards and not backwards, but I still managed to crack my head something good on one of the wooden steps. Swollen up with a nice gash, but barely any bruising since I don't bruise easily, thankfully. Just sore as hell. I knew the fact there were thirteen of the damn things was bad luck.
Yep, I have He That Is watching me from the bushes and I nearly get offed by a freak accident. Fuck my life.
As for the other thing... another dream. Yes, I had another last night. No, I'm not going to post those anymore. They are rather useless. That is to say that it's yet another thing I want to hide. Cause I didn't like where they were going. They're barely nightmares... well, they AREN'T nightmares and I think that's what is confusing me most. Apart from a need to find that stupid "something," there's nothing that bothers me about them. At all. It's my home and where I used to live. The guy out in the field... could be a million different people. I'm tempted to try getting some crystals like what Kay suggests in her blog, but I don't know if that'll work. Like I said, they don't actually disturb me.
I'll keep writing them down as I have them, but I'll only write in here when I find some sort of meaning.
You know... sitting here, knowing my living Hell has only just begun, I can't help but laugh.
It was all supposed to be just a story...