Exile

So, I left. I threw up my hands and walked out. Fuck Genome, Fuck The Servants, Fuck The Ne Timu, Fuck The Dying Man, fuck all of it. I'm out. I don't care what happens anymore so I'm out. I didn't tell anyone I just left while they were busy.

I pathed to some random location outside a bar and went inside. It was empty so I helped myself to the alcohol. I'm posting this from there. I'm on my seventh bottle of an unlabeled liquor and I'm fully intent on finding out exactly how much I can drink before I get drunk. Like so many other ways I'm better than a standard human but I'm sure enough alcohol will still be able to floor me.

I don't want to be here anymore. If I drink enough I can close my eyes and everything will be good again. I'll be with Megan again. The world will be back to the way it was. No it will be better than it was. There won't be any fears or Ne Timu. There won't be any Jack either. It will be paradise. Megan and Mom and Dad and Vadim and everyone else I've lost will be there. We'll be together forever in happiness.

Maybe if I drink enough I'll never have to wake up.