Below are the 3 most recent journal entries recorded in jack's LiveJournal:

Saturday, March 11th, 2006
4:21 pm	Well, figuring out where I am didn't take long. Needless to say, this ain't D-town, as Kelly (thankfully alive) puts it. It's, um, Boston. And I guess I'm lucky it's Boston, because wandering dazed around any other city's public square at 4 a.m. looking like a psychotic wino might actually get you in trouble. Here, all I've gotten is asked if I'm late for class. Sweet! Anyway, for a while there the situation was completely unacceptable, but thankfully a college town is full of college girls -- and college girls, while often too thoughtful to fall for some of the things I've been instructed to confront them with, are *always* scammable for a free meal. And their roomate's boyfriend's clothes. And some cash--just a little, so I can type here and track down Kelly--but you'll be happy to know that I left her with nary a scratch, and she'll wake up with a vague memory of a good date that nonetheless didn't pan out. Some of you might be wondering, Why would I give Kelly an LJ account? Without one, she may never have actually found the proof that I--well, she may never have put two and two together, really. I handed myself over. I did! But why not? And why not admit it, since I've broken so many rules already? Kelly, I didn't do what you think I did--I'm not who you think I am, but you're closer than anybody's ever been. Don't give up now. But about breaking rules...This is a nice lull, but I'm worried. Obviously the System responded to my, um, disobedience with some kind of temporal/spatial vomiting-spell, which landed me in a different city, and without a missive. That's what's worrysome. No missive. No job. But I'm not dead, and I'm still myself. But how can I be myself, without a mandate? That's part of my identity. Without it, I'll admit, I feel pretty lost. All I have left to concern myself with is saving Kelly, but Kelly's somewhere with Spanish street-signs and I don't even know if she knows how to read this, or if she'll get my message. If she's all I have for a purpose, why did the System separate us? Why Boston? Why now? Make no mistake, there IS such a thing as glitch, as coincidence -- for humans. Not for us. And that's why I'm worried. Also, where is A.? And why can't I contact my homebox? Something big is coming. Finding Kelly might not have anything to do with stopping it, but for the last couple centuries I've been made to follow orders, and right now finding her are the only orders I've got. Kelly, I'm at or around the Cybersmith cafe in Harvard Square. Oh, and my coffee-and-lunch order, which is up. Bye! -Jack (Comment on this)
Thursday, March 9th, 2006
9:09 am	oh my demons, what HAPPENED? Where's Kelly? Oh SHIT, man, shit, I think we hit a time-skip.  It's gotta be--it wasn't winter, like, eight minutes ago!  And I was with Kelly, and I'd pissed off the Sys-- shit.  shit shit shit. Okay.  Calm down, man.  Drink your coffee, get out of this chair, and find out where the hell you are.  Find Kelly! -J. Wait:  Are there cool little coffee-shops in Detroit?  I don't remember any... This whole thing would actually worry me less if I was hungover.  Or could get drunk in the first place.  Knowing that it's NOT drugs is much scarier. Shit. (Comment on this)
Saturday, April 17th, 2004
11:39 pm	Rape victims / psychology Okay, a bit of a zinger topic for my first post on this thing, but it's what's on my mind, and that's just what anybody stupid enough to read this is going to have to deal with. If anything it's funny that the topic never interested me before...but usually I stay fathoms away from the word 'rape'; it annoys the hell out of me, how some people see it. I mean, yeah, I guess rape is a bad thing; if it wasn't, if the System was okay with stuff like that, people like me probably wouldn't exist. But sex isn't all fluffy-fun, you know. It has a purpose; it's a lot more complex than most people would like to think; and there are lots more ways to do it wrong than just rape, and I think a lot of times it all gets shoved into one category. Like, some woman gets blazing drunk and gives it up, that sacred nectar only she possesses, to me or some dimwit at the bar, and that's not enough of a blunder on its own; in order to make it wrong she's gotta call it rape? It was wrong anyway. It didn't need to be confused with physical violence; it was spiritual violence, by her against herself, and to a lesser extent against whoever the poor sap was, unless it was me--I'm immune to that, by design. I guess my point is that you people all forget that just because there's a physical component to something, that doesn't make it purely physical--lots of things, sex and sickness and insanity and even eating--have physical sides, but you can't get anywhere just by viewing them physically. I remember when stuff like that was thought of as having a) a physical side and b) a superstitious one; like there was a demon fucking up your digestive system or whatever. And that was silly, but it was closer to the truth than you are now. Anyway. So tonight I've been doing all this reading up on this crap. Actual rape, the violent kind, and how it affects people in the long-term; something I've never really thought about. It sucks, too. From what I can gather through the fog of that bullshit you all call "psychology", having your body controlled and assaulted, having your nectar stolen, ripped away from you, is one of the nastiest things that can happen to a human. Especially when there wasn't time or opportunity for the human to get a handle on how sex is supposed to be first. They lose it, then, they lose track of what it's really for, and more than that; they can't feel it anymore, how they have this gift in their bodies, ready to use and share; it gets cut off from them. And whether you all believe it or not, that nectar is a physical manifestation of the System; it's supposed to be, from what I've gathered, a big fat clue for humanity on how to get connected. No wonder it made her soul-sick, no wonder she's lost. But that's the problem; she's lost, not just in desperate need of a proper fucking, and that pisses me off because if it was the second one, I would be made to order, I would be THE person to help her out. And I want to be, though I have yet to figure out why. Fuck. I shouldn't even be typing all this, but I guess it's safe enough...the combans were put in place back when there were mages, people who might try to get intel from the downbound and use it to try and hack the system, but I haven't seen one of those in two hundred years, and anyway there's nothing really useful to them here. It just feels weird, being so open, but I think I like it; it's like venting to my worshippers, but I don't have to conform to all that I'm-a-demon-hear-me-roar shit. Oh well. Back to work. JACK (2 Comments |Comment on this)