The Black has no memory; it has no wants or desires, and that is comforting to me. It holds no judgements, nor and preconceptions. The Black does not care who I am, nor what I have been. It does not care about the future that lies before me, no the past that I leave behind. It is hard for me to think that there was once a time when such was not the case, but rather my thought on the Black were filled with anxiety and an amount of loathing.

So, I watch the Black, allowing my thoughts to drift into that peace that comes to me more now than it ever did, washing my memories away. I sometimes wonder if such was how the first Reaver came to be; such ponderings of the Black. Though I feel no urge to desecrate my flesh, the thought still remains.

I have recently re-evaluated certain notions that I have held onto for many years. Circumstances have led me to question not only myself, but the values that I had held for many years. I wonder that if this process continues, what part of me will be left?

Journal Entry

22Sep