Chapter 6a

Every truth I've ever known, every shred of evidence, has continued to fail me. I am pushed forward on the hunt for answers to a riddle I can't recite. I feel that I walk in his own foot prints. I see evidence of him everywhere. I have seen his name, an adopted name I could not recognize, in guest books. I have heard him cough on the subway train as it pulled away from the platform I stood on. I have seen pictures of hundreds of people who might have been him in the thousands of wallets I've sifted through.

Yet he remains elusive. He is elusive but I am too close to let that prevail. I have found another entry in the journal. I read it every day, it is my bible, it is the scent I use on the hunt, but somehow I have missed one, just one entry towards the back of the book. I read it the first time with hands shaking, not just from cold, but from the depth of my discovery.

I finally feel that I am close enough to pounce. I will have my prey. Although the purpose of my hunt had always been intellectual, I yearned to end it tasting his blood.

Friday, November 15, 2013

This charade has gone on long enough. I am haunted. My old life is two decades gone yet I am haunted by the ghosts of it. I don't know what to make of it.

My mind has gotten steadily worse, I think. I think I said before I couldn't focus. I was wrong. Now I can't focus.

My eye doctor told me everything seemed great with my vision but when she asked me to read the third line I told her, "angel-headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night." When she asked me what the first letter was I her that it was probably Sumerian but I wasn't sure if those counted as letters.

I think somebody or something, some great evil force or...something! is looming over me. The dreams get worse and darker as he gets closer. My thoughts fall to pieces when his eye is on me. Something is very wrong. This is inhuman.

This is Beelzebub reaching a giant hand of flames and claws from the depths of hell to fist fuck me.

This is serious shit.

I don't know how to hide anymore. I feel that if I am found I am ended. Have I come so far to fall so short? Is it best to end or to be ended?

Maybe that's the question I've been hunting for. Maybe that's the riddle I needed to hear so that I could find a solution. I don't know. It's too late to care. I know that either path converges on the same point now. Fate has caught me in her trap.

I'm rambling again. I ramble so much these days that it's almost impossible to catch myself. This time I did but it may be the last time. What about tomorrow? Maybe I won't ramble, maybe I won't even speak, but I think I've lost the right to decide. I don't know who's making the choices now, maybe it's just chaos that governs the turns of my life now. Either way, they can't do any worse than I've done so far. Maybe they can even do me some good, if only a small bit. Either way, the truth remains the same. Fate has caught me in her trap.

And so have I. The question and answer wait for me now, one lingering just beyond reach of each hand. I know where to find him now. I know how to find him. I will have to end him. For you, the reader of this endeavor, I apologize that the mystery must remain unsolved. I must go and retrieve my answers and from this, there is no coming back to tell the story. With the truth so close I have no choice but to reach out, grab hold, and choke the life out of it.

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