My Time is Up

Day 1,166, 21:10 • Published in USA USA • by Glove


My life, my friends,

I have been shot. The Wigs and their terror network are on the verge of taking my life. By Monday I will not be the same. I Am Jack's Complete Lack of Surprise.
I was temporarily disposed of for three days. On the fourth day, I found my way back. I took a stand. I lifted my ‘nail flail’ to show the man as he went for his gun. I swung my hand as hard as I could, catching him on his temple. His body crumpled to the floor, blood pouring from his ruptured head. I grabbed my bag quickly and started to swing my arm wildly all around myself, sprinting to my plane. People screamed, and yelled. Some dropped to the floor and others caught a face full of infected nail impaled meat. I got on the plane. As I sat in my seat, I prayed for a crash, a mid-air collision, anything. You know why they put oxygen masks on planes? Oxygen, gets you high. You accept your fate-an illusion of safety.
This is it. Ground Zero.
I lay, desperately grasping for air. I believe there was a coordinated effort against my life. The rest of them were lucky. 150 dead. The landscape was gray. My eyes were stained-snow. I am been bleeding profusely. Losing all hope, was freedom. I am dying. I replayed the scene in my head. The cold overtaking me, I thought, what now?
“How can I lie to myself and think things will get better?”
I cant-I haven’t slept for days, I can’t even think straight.
“What kind of dining set defines me as a person?”
I had it all.
Then, a blow from behind.

With insomnia, you're never really asleep; you're never really awake. I had been sleeping this whole time. Every evening I died, and every evening I was born again-resurrected. You know what’s worse? You’re still sleeping. You aren't even here. You’re still attached to that oxygen mask. What’s wrong, do you have some kind of sick desperation in your life? Just think, on a large enough time line, the survival rate for everyone will drop to zero. We sit idly by goose-stepping for the hive.. Just you and me-everyone hates clowns.

I had A sharp pain shot through my back. I turned around, seeing no one. I closed my eyes-they were burning. I smiled and laughed, all the while trying to stand up. I just couldn’t anymore.

We are the First People. People shaped the world and dwelled here until the tentacled ones came. They see us as tools-we have become slaves. Once someone does not know themselves, they are lost. Lost. Such a terrible thing, isn’t it? Maybe. Maybe self-improvement isn't the answer.... Maybe self-destruction is the answer.

The attempt on my life left me scarred and deformed, but I am awake.

I suppose these things happen. It could be worse. It is. We are consumers-byproducts of a life-style obsession. Strength, titles, gold, these thing’s don’t concern me. It’s all going downhill from here. Deliver me from Swedish-furniture. Stop being perfect-evolve-let the chips fall where they may. Maybe these pixels don’t mean anything. Maybe these medals and currency mean nothing. What the fuck am I doing? I now know-I had been asleep this whole time. I Am Jack’s Medulla Oblongata .
I clenched the gray snow. My hands quickly decomposing. See these hands? I ripped out a man’s soul with them. After three hours, my arms grew tired. The pain expanded towards my chest. Then, my head was light and the earth was spinning. I passed out.

Our only ally is Time. The tentacled ones strip us of it. The arrangement of colored pixels and boundaries on the map mean nothing. We see the same conflicts repeated indefinitely. This is not how you win. This is not a war amongst ourselves. Peace is the answer. Love. What is love? You have to find it yourself-change yourself. Your victories may be small, but over time, a greater victory may be achieved. I am Jack's Raging Bile Duct.

I awoke a day later. It was time.

“Who are you?”
“We are the same person.”
“You are insane”
“Am I?”
“You are a puke. You are the lowest form of life on Earth. You are nothing but unorganized grabastic pieces of amphibian shit.”
“Muda da.”
Time stopped.
“WRYYYYYY”

The most important people in this world are you. We all inhabit the same earth. Every Citizen, every Believer, and every Follower is worth just as much as the other. We are the First people. We are all part of the same compost heap. I see the strongest and the smartest men who have ever lived... and these men are pumping gas and waiting tables. We're the middle children of history.... no purpose or place. We have no Great War, no Great Depression. Our great war is a spiritual war. I Am Jack's Smirking Revenge.

My friends,
I want to personally recognize all of you, but the list would be too great. But,
I want you to really listen to me,
I love each and every one of you.
My eyes are open.