[xx-8] Prisoner Logs

Prisoner log update 1: My captors make pains to assure us we're safe, but I sense their intentions are less than sincere. After probing and blood tests I can only pray that I don't meet what they're looking for. After holding, they moved me to a cell with 2 other unfortunate souls. I hope they feed us, but I can't bare to think what it may be drugged with. I hope this reaches someone, anyone. I don't want to die alone as no amount of captives they file in behind me will garner any hope.

Prisoner log update 2: The Riot Act. To say she was intimidating is to misunderstand the word. We are told when we eat, sleep, and shit. In the unfortunate event we miss our scheduled time, that's a paddlin'. We choked down what some in the third world would call "lunch" before being ushered back to our cells. We do not have names. I am a number, I have an order, I dare not think otherwise. Forget about home and family, this is the longest road.

Prisoner log update 3: Today will never end. It's weird to think after all the hell we've been through, the talking to us like we're in elementary school is what takes the degradation to a different level. I'm amazed at how this many headless chickens attempt to run such a tight ship. What's on all of that paperwork anyway? If the rest of my incarceration goes this slow...measures may have to be taken. I hear that water boarding is rough, but if I have to choke down another can of root beer I might have to stand under the shower head with a washcloth on my face to put the feeling of wanting to vomit out of my mind.

Prisoner log update 4: I can barely see straight. They kicked in our door at 5 AM and flooded the room with bizarre equipment. I was too exhausted to fight. Now I have more tubes sticking out of me than a water park. I can't tell if I've lost more blood from the tests or from my face from all of my "adjustments." Mom always said my mouth would get me in trouble. One guy thought he'd escape out of a bathroom window; god knows where he went. As a result they've taken to leashing our wrists. My last adjustment came when I asked if I could get him to shake me off when I was done pissing. I thought I overheard them talking of a night raid. Loose lips you scum, I'll be ready for you.

Prisoner log update 5: The S.Os found my weapons cache. They're getting more inventive when it comes to punishment. For the first 6 hours I was propped in front of propagandist media. All the quick cuts to tortured imagery and quotes about respecting and worshiping power out of a Nazi handbook. As if to seer the images in my brain my eyes were forced open to stare at blinding sweat lamps. The increasing pounding in my temple is like a timer reminding me of every moment I'm still here. Apparently even the dungeons can suffer a bad economy and they've decided to cut rations. I'm down to five. baby. carrots...

Prisoner log note to self: Keep an eye on Duffy. He's convinced his hands are a book and doesn't think I know he's staring at me through his fingers.

Prisoner log update 6: I think I can start to see cracks in their armor. They still haven't told us why we're here, but it seems they want us alive. The foreboding quiet has allowed me to quell my thundering mind. Our interactions with our captors are limited; they check vitals and review charts barely batting an eye. This impressive given our conditions being the place that hygiene forgot. I try not to think too much about my past, but no matter how disorienting the isolation and malnourishment make me, it helps plant my feet. Even if they try to erase all that I am, they can't make me forget home. They can't make me forget her. Even if I'd opt out of this struggle, what a sin if I were to extinguish that flame. Such a brittle wick upon which to dance.

Prisoner log update 7: An explosion shook me awake. I could see smoke billowing on the ceiling and guards running past my cell. My only problem was if the place went up in flames, I'd go with it. Despite being an ardent study of Andy Dufresne, my hole digging technique had been sub par. Then I heard a loud click and the smash of the door against the wall. Duffy. His hands were red and it probably wasn't jello. He held them outstretched in front of his face and motioned for me to come with him. At this point, following him wasn't the craziest thing I was willing to do. As we rushed through the halls, I caught glimpses of the guards failed attempts to contain the flames. Like my lady's sweet ass, without the right fire hose, they were too hot to handle. We make it to the outer gate before the phone I scooped up lost

Sent from Guard #892-CKGs Iphone.

Prisoner log update 8: The morning felt like a rebirth. The part they leave out is the wet, sticky afterbirth that comes along with it. After we breached the gate we took off running. It would have been pitch black were it not for the destruction we escaped illuminating the path ahead. I found a charger under a rock when we reached the tree line. Where are we? There were rolling hills of trees in every direction, but our once humble abode looked like an isolated hollowed out space. Luckily, Duffy wasn't going crazy, it was an act that got him removed from his cell for frequent psych evaluations. Keep telling yourself that partner...The plan is to try and hide. We have to risk them coming out to search the woods as slicing a man's throat sounds easier than a bear's. Or hell, getting squeezed by a giant snake in my sleep or something, I don't know the outdoors.

Prisoner log update 9: I don't know what to think. No one has come in or out of the building since it exploded. As night falls we decide to sneak back and see what happen. Surely everyone else couldn't be dead, right? One way or another, we needed provisions, as hiking through the woods was beginning to look like the only option. The smell was overwhelming. Smoldering ashes I tend to enjoy, but so thick were they in my throat I could barely cough. We pressed through the rubble making pains not to step in charred remains. We passed our cells, interrogation room, what appeared to be guards' quarters. Nothing. To not waste this potentially fleeting opportunity we located the kitchen and raided lockers. The only real potential weapon we came across was a butcher's knife. I assured Duffy it would be safe under my newly acquired belt. A final glance before we took off towards the woods. Now, we were prisoners of the wild.

Prisoner log update 10: It was a long night. Duffy's brilliant idea of spinning around in circles and taking off in the direction he stopped was as good plan as any. I remember when all I could say about the woods was that I knew nothing about them. I hate the woods. I wish that bear was here, but he'd likely just scratch and bite me enough to make every step after our encounter that much more annoying. Lugging around this many pounds of canned food isn't a picnic either. Sure, we see plenty of deer and rabbits, but every time I throw the butcher's knife at them it just feels silly. We've been traveling for days, which I take it means we've hit a Narnia-esc wormhole and come out through the other side. I can't get images of the fire out of my mind. Maybe we can burn enough of this wretched place to signal someone? For now, we'll keep hiking and wait till night fall. If whomever may rescue us brings anything more than water, it'll help us avoid even more trouble.

[My interpretation of each day under confinement for my first clinical drug study stay]

[362] Off World

Star Date: 2.343.2126

My journey hasn't been easy. Upon landing, not only did I have to become a quick study of the customs and language, my skin is not used to a planet with a sun so close. My on-stem chip worked fine and I managed “English” which is how I will proceed in my reporting and translating back upon return. I did not anticipate the strange times ahead.

They're everywhere. No one tells you in the academy the lengths they will go to inhabit the land. The ingenious methods devised to either pack as many into a small place as possible, or combat the elements that would surely kill them quickly. Why? One of thousands of times I'll ask the question.

It's not just their presence, it's their likeness. If it doesn't have a face they insist that it needs one. Their talking television device is an endless loop depicting conversations, I've quite honestly, still not been able to discern the purpose of. It's almost as if they're all in on some kind of secret. I think it may be beyond the scope of my task to figure out what it is.

My first month was the hardest. As you well know, back home, you plug into A-HEAD and you join in the oneness of our shared identity. Here, it's a higher stakes game. They're personalities reach to shape everything they touch. It was quite the task to gather enough data on a few of them to begin long term engagement. I felt, lonely? I think is their word. It didn't make sense, you can't escape them if you try.

I set to task crafting my personality. I didn't have to understand their television box to gather that it may be imparting clues. If they were all watching, so should I. The various ways in which these groups engaged is a subject onto itself, but I think I managed to obtain a handful of optimal metrics to move things forward.

Smile. Gesture your face in a way that makes them do it back. It mostly always works. I learned how to structure their jokes and tried to match the styles of clothes I saw. I attended their sporting events and joined in their pageantry.

It was a process to get started, but I had a moment where I thought this was going to be easier than I previously feared.

I did feel wise in my choice of location to land. Some of the images I saw depicted sprawling cities with a million noises and distractions. I feel I wouldn't find the time nor patience to try and recount even the, meager by that standard, amount I've endured.

As an explorer to a foreign land, I'm used to be an actor. But now I almost feel like a double agent by distrusting myself. There's been something changing in me, and I don't feel it's all good. I wish to submit this report in good faith that the directors will pull me out if it sounds too disconcerting.

Over time I developed an attachment to some of my subjects. For as utterly baffling as they can be, they still seemed capable of perceiving that I was “from somewhere different” and sought to make my time easier. It's an emotional intelligence of sorts, but very situationally specific. Given that we've perfected GLOVE, because it fits! Their version, love is both ironic and reminiscent of a weaker form. In practice, it seems to defy the idea that I would refer to them as emotionally intelligent.

I must confess, it was around this time I felt myself getting lazy. I had a mission, but the overwhelming sense about this planet is to, as one drug induced acquaintance said to, let it ride. Upon first hearing it I was shocked. It felt like anathema to everything I've ever know. For Christ's sake (I'm told he was important to their history and needs to be invoked in times of turmoil) I'm here simply to learn!

I was in crisis. Was this person telling me that things were simply pointless on their planet? Could I have spent years at this point watching and recording, only to have missed this important nugget of the underlying truth of my effort?

I took solace in a pack of humans that had taken up shelter near me and we migrated together over time. Surely it is the true brilliance of our technology that allows for such a direct mock up body to fit in without detection. The only drawback is that I appear to be subjected to a degree of emotion much higher than was first anticipated Even the idea that I would be here long after they had grown and died left me feeling hollow. These, for lack of a better word, perhaps interesting pets, if we were to ever bring a few back.

I feel the reporting in my 8^th year began to become compromised. Every new bit of information I took in pulled me into vastly interesting, but ultimately defunct worlds. The humans had this drive it seemed to corrupt or destroy information. Every time I thought I was learning, it turned out to be the same terrifying message. Of course we've known strife. I've no recollection of ever wanting to seek it out, until now.

I invited it in. It became impossible to sit and watch and report. One of their females took to liking me. I engaged. I let wave after wave rush over me and I thought little to nothing about what my small act of defiance would breed.

I provoked. I knew that the humans baseline seemed banal if not oblivious, but I quickly learned their preference for violence. While it was generally talked about in terms of strategy, I can't help but think they didn't know what they were playing for. I sought out fire with a few shots of my own.

Here, the social bonding became ever-more nebulous. My cohort maintained contact for significantly longer than I had anticipated. Most eventually fell out of contact. My human partner, I, regrettably, probably pushed too far, and will likely take solace in my departure.

In a sense, things did become clearer in the ashes of my wake. There was something intoxicating in giving up my control. I became part of their story without having to account for a word.

I hope this brief introduction goes far enough to endear you to the impossible situation I found myself in. As I scour the memory banks I will try to elaborate on the various Incidences I refer to throughout the report. If my language feels encumbered, it's because that's what it's become. I look forwarding to plugging back in after the debriefing.

[65] I Started Talking To Myself

You know what I realized?

What did you realize Nick?

I realized the more I get informed the more I feel terrible and awesome at the same time.

Terrible and awesome? What the hell are you talking about man?

Well you see, it's like this. I keep watching all my heretical videos debunking some creationist or ridiculing Mormon underwear, and they're all well and good, but then I get to thinking.

What do you think about Nick?

See, I start to think that while I understand what bigger picture this whole religion vs. atheism or science debate is about, it's entirely still possible that all these people think there whole worlds are being attacked and my come crashing down.

Crashing down? Don't you think that's a bit dramatic? These people are just delusional or being poisoned by their faith. Don't you remember how many pissed off blogs you have stating as such?

Of course I remember those, but don't forget that I also try to sympathize. Some of my friends are so happy they have their faith to hold on to and it runs extremely deep within their families. I know that I wouldn't want those rifts or arguments to take place at my dinner table by bringing up anything even borderline suggesting it's wrong.

Is that an excuse? You have a metric dump-load of information that has extremely profound implications for how and why they could be living their lives. Isn't it important that you rally under the flag and spread it?

Yes, in fact I do believe it is important for people to hear, if even only slowly over time, even half of the things I have, but at the same time they will tell me to read every book that criticizes the ones I've read. It does no good to simply say here's some books, I am right, hurry up and get with the picture.

What then are you going to do? What could be simpler than pointing in the right direction and saying explore on your own? You obviously can't make them read anything, and it would be even harder to explain enough theoretical stuff and then portray it as a new line of mental comfort.

Here's where we hit the heart of the issue. It isn't the load of information that is the problem and it isn't the people just being stubborn and willfully ignorant. One needs to learn how to see what's presented to them. Moreover, they need to re-learn how to think.

Most people won't stop their habit of eating bad food late at night and you want to talk about reconditioning thinking in an area of someone's life that has ,by their perception, brought them more happiness and fulfillment than they think you could begin to fathom. HAHAHAHA you dumbass.

Didn't say it would be easy, but short answer to that is yes. If I thought about how I felt when I learned some new Darwinian fact or lecture on quantum theory, it is a well removed feeling from when I'm thinking about a special someone or laughing my ass off with my friends.

Ok, well what does speaking the truth about the world and getting stupid with your friends have to do with anything?

Everything. When I see people who strongly profess their faith, it isn't the times they spent hours in their room studying the bible and praying they talk about. It's the retreats, the relationships, the feelings of community and love. That weird "miracle" that doesn't just have to be some improbable event, but now a testament to their devotion and proof of God's intervention. Some overcome addiction or cessation of a problem. Come to think of it, people are even praising God for their problems as opportunities to grow and overcome.

God time becomes all the potential for good times, throw a stick in the spokes of God time, you screw up the process for good times. This seems too simple. You're saying that people will throw away all rational thought and explanation, for the sake of having fun? They'll brush away thousand pages science journals and facts about other religions, because those have nothing to do with their good time?

In a sense, I'd say yes. There's like two people I could bring up the information I see with, and even then it usually has to be during the right time when we're both ready to think. With all the regular everyday work and family stresses, who wants to debate with me? I even have to use the word debate lightly because people only think I want to fight.

How then, smart guy, do you plan to make "debating" with and enlightening your friends more fun? Aren't you a little too hard fact and cold answers? Like you've heard before, there is no polite way to say "I'm sorry but this thing you've invested years of your life to which has brought you so much joy, is simply a delusion."

Your right, and that's not what I want to say at all. I think the only way to get the new level of thought, where people are able to realize the same happiness, is to re focus their attention.

Elaborate. What is more appealing than the already shining candy cane we'll call Jesus with all the answers and perfect love? Your hard pressed to find a surrogate savior.

I believe all that needs to be done is to add some clarity into their lives. Right now its "Jesus did this, God did that, I'm saved by this." You know of that truth I keep harping about that I think people need to find? I think we just need to keep reminding them of where to find it.

Truth is our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, by His will be done. There. How do you like that? Good plan, its killed in one sentence.

How easy was it for you to say that? It's like a catch phrase. Pull the string and out pops the profession of truth, the unquestionable line of infallibility. Its right here where I want someone to take a part in what's going on in my mind. I want to give, or better remind, them of the questions so they can ask themselves. They can have their own late nights of tireless thoughts and headaches. I'm getting worn out worrying about people who don't see a problem.

Well you still haven't told me what there are going to focus them on. Again, good luck beating Jesus.

See your thinking is all wrong. I'm not trying to beat Jesus. Apparently he's had enough of that already. I'll tell you, what I believe people should focus on is themselves.

Themselves? They're already focusing on themselves. You said it yourself. They find fun, avoid confrontations, and get their happy thoughts from faith? What's more focused on yourself than that?

When I say focus, I don't mean in a way that motivates them to get their next happiness "fix" in a sense. I mean for them to focus on their thoughts, their actions, their back-of-their-head ideas that I have "perfect faith" in exist and bother people. I believe that it is in shielding yourself from Yourself that certain things, i.e. religion, drugs, alcohol, moods, views, and habits all creep in to try and help you find any form of "fun" "happiness" "truth."

So keep pointing out what people don't want you to point out until one way or another the issue gets dealt with. Potentially piss them off to such a degree that you walk away with hurt friendships and broken ends?

The beauty of my plan is that I don't believe those friendships will at all be broken, if not reinforced after the threshold has been reached. I am not asking anything of anyone that they aren't asking themselves. All I want is to see the responsibility of owning up to those questions and inconsistencies.

Well theoretically it sounds like it may work, but the most useful function of faith appears to be that it can simply deny and denounce those "un-wanted thoughts" that may bring rise to doubt. How do you combat that?

I guess I can't. I'm not after a conversion mind you, I'm after an enlightenment. I know some people who have their heads in the sand and quite truthfully I'd rather them there than out somehow disrupting what it is I'm actually about. I'd hate for someone to practice humoring me while completely missing the real issues that may lie within themselves.

Ok, so does getting into long conversations with yourself somehow help convey this message you have? I'd venture to say you are not far from looking a bit nutty.

You see I run into the frequent problem of never having anyone to talk to for long enough to explain why and how I'm using an argument. It's the little words and phrases that tell a bigger story than an entire book, or procession of blogs, professing an idea. If I can show people how to seek out and acknowledge those little signs, there isn't much more I could ask for.

Do you think you see these "little signs" so to speak when you talk to your friends? Are you trying to be some profound shrink looking down on all the simpletons? In some Dr. Katz manner are you going to respond to long digressions of recovery stories and miracles with "uh huh, ya," and then try to beat in your own ideology?

In answer to the first question, yes. I see a lot of things in how people talk to me that they maybe did want to show. I pick up on signal words or phrases that I can reasonably assume came from somewhere besides their original thought. The best I could do to explain would be to sit and watch a debate or talk with you and point out each individual thing I saw and explain why and how I saw it. To the second part, hell no. I don't think of myself as somehow better than anybody anymore than I think of myself worse than anybody. Remember, I'm not trying to push "my ideology" onto anyone, I'm harping on the strings of people's own questions, own minds.

So what? Their stories, their current "truths" still don't matter to you? Their entire lives this has been what's mattered. You haven't gone through what they have. How could you ever understand those amazing moments? You've never felt what your own friend felt that changed their life forever. You've never had God whisper into your ear. Hell, I'd even doubt you'd allow him to even if he tried.

Of course they matter to me. It takes a lot for me to call someone a friend and when I hear a story or someone needs an ear, I'm always there to help in whatever way I can and I do appreciate that it was a significant time in their life. On the same token I want them to be their own constant reminders that things could've always been worse, other people claim to have found that same level of happiness outside your faith, and the past is the past. I want to stop people from the tendency to right off the rest of humanity.

Well again, you haven't been through what they have. You haven't had the devil make you think of suicide, you haven't had your mother tell you by the doctors that you weren't going to make it.

What am I supposed to say in a moment like this? Yes, I've never had serious thoughts of suicide and yes I was a perfectly healthy baby. Ok? Here's how quickly you fall into writing off the rest of the world and denying your current situation. Did you make it out alive? Yes. Are you still suicidal? Hopefully no. Now when you figure out that there are plenty of kids who don't make it, maybe this barrage of "you've nevers" will lose whatever power you think they hold. I don't bring up my life's horror stories and mistakes to compete with you do I?

Fine, the past is the past. Those people who are worse off are just plagued by the devil and the ones you say who are happy have only some false shroud because true happiness and love can only come from our Lord.

I again, can't stop you from associating everything with your faith. Demonizing things with the devil character and raising all the good times to God. All I can do is ask that right before you say this, you pause and ask yourself if maybe, someone has just pulled your string.