Asleep.

Asleep.

You may call me ‘fool’ if you wish…

But this not my name. Although, we’ve never met each other and I do not know your face or name we are acquaintances in this moment. You are privileged to read these last words of my freedom where my only hope is to return to the lie that was everything and truly nothing. Instead there is the possibility I will die in this hell that is real in all the ways that I wished were fake.

Foolish? Perhaps I am a fool for wanting to close my eyes once more. But the realities I have come to see are only the misguided romantic notions of men who are disillusioned by hope for more. There is no hope in this.

Forgive my impudence but I no longer want to know or understand the freedom of being disengaged. These words carry the tone of ungratefulness that I can not mask. I do not appreciate these circumstances that I’ve come to live in. The harshness of reality is an undesired consequence of freedom. The joy of hearing the unmodified voice is better left to others. The view of the world outside of my bubble is less than pleasant.

Real is starting to look all the same. Give me the fake. The lie built on my comfort; a blanket of deception that pleasantly soothes my mind and gives me what I want like a child without autonomy. No need to accept the freedoms of life. Take the control away from me. I don’t want to make the decisions. Pull me back into slavery of the mind. Let me enjoy the wine when I’m really drinking water. Tell me what I want, when I want it and how I want it. Don’t force me to make the choices by telling me what to do. I prefer the absence of knowing I’m being told. The illusion of happenstance, the outcome I can not control.

Do you remember who you were? When you were pretending? I do. I can taste the food, the music, the laughter of the illusion that lived before my eyes in the lie of life. Give me the rose colored glasses once more. I don’t like the world without them. The sounds of life are a plague and discomfort to my soul. Hide them away. I don’t want to see the disfigured man at the grocer’s. I miss the way he looked and sounded in the lie. Perfect. Symmetrical. Happy. Real is broken. Damaged people. Unhappy isn’t the proper word for it. Suffering. They are all the same, suffering around me. Dying every minute.

Liar? Call me a liar, a thief or puppet. Show me what I will become. Take the dreams of others and give me their strengths to become the lie that is meant to be. I willingly accept the strings of attachment without knowing. Allow me to become a prisoner to the grindstone of routine without understanding. I can not fathom the thought of continuing to lead this impoverished life. Only interaction is with those who are obviously beneath me. My deception was far more substantial than this. I lacked for nothing. Actually I had the illusion of something. There was no need as there were no wants. I could live without thoughts. They thought for me. Pulled my strings and I did. I was. I used to be.

Skeptic? I am skeptical and disbelieve the possibility of the future. There is nothing but a world gone mad without hope. I am a cynic, a critical mind that has lost its way and there is no other way out. I long for the idealistic delusion to become real once more. Take away this harsh cold reality. Replace it with the soft warm impractical lie. I wish I never knew the truth. It is too painful to know. Put back the past into my head. Let me live with the fraud. Never knowing is better than what is before me. Steal someone else dream and pipe into my mind. There is no reason to keep going when pain is all around me. I can not live this way. There is no other choice.

Don’t think me unappreciative of life. I’m quite blessed to have lived. But to continue in this manner… to endure this way is without purpose. The quality of my life is questionable. I want the vividness of life restored. This reality is banal and commonplace, beneath the sanctity of my life. If I was divine, then now I am ordinary. I can not be like this, merely having to exist in the world without the idealistic fabrication of its beauty. Everyday reveals more truths that I can not handle knowing. I want out. There is no other way.

I am a fool. And ungrateful for the freedoms that others embrace. I’m a greater coward than you can imagine. Even I know this as I face the actuality of my situation, sitting here dying in a hope that I’ll find peace once again when I’m welcomed back into the dream. There are more pills on my tongue than I can count. A knife in my gut creates a wound that profusely releases blood. A gun rests on my lap anticipating the end that will come. One way or another reality will come crashing down.

I’d rather not know this real. I would prefer the end is surrounded by the fake. But what other option is there? For me, there is no reason to embrace what is to come. It will only bring more suffering. I’d rather not know that hell can get worse. It’s far easier to accept that there is truly nothing over this painful existence. As I lay here bleeding out and fading quickly the time to return to the lie has come.

These are my last words, the reflections of a fool. Goodbye stranger, my unseen acquaintance, I hope your reasons for living are stronger than mine.

Letters. Awake? In this instance… Asleep. Why asleep? Of course with everything there are two sides. So… Why not delve into the opposition? To pretend it doesn’t exist is to walk blindly in the world by ignoring half of everything. There are those resistant to accept change. Clinging to the familiar of what is known even if it is bad because the unseen and unfamiliar could be worse. That thing that may be undesired might happen and instantly we want to go back to the familiar. Spin the table around now… the unknown might produce something good. What about that? That should be enough of a reason to accept it. Enjoy. m.

Undisclosed.

Undisclosed (in four)

#1

If you are reading this please understand that your efforts have been realized. I have been contacted through mutual channels with the assurance that you comprehend this risk. This document doesn’t exist. It is for your eyes only. Its contents include pieces of information that are classified. Communication of anything to anyone outside of the division is restricted. If this document is discovered in your possession I will deny any knowledge of the origins.

Testing is executed in sector 12. There are thirteen test subjects currently under my supervision. It has been brought to my understanding that you have been trying to locate one of these subjects. Our contact assures that you are willing to comply with the standard amount of monetary compensation. This should speed up the process of extracting the subject. According to my experience you may require additional information before finalizing this payment.

These subjects are kept in the standard cages. Each provides an adequate amount of space; 3x3, with the proper resting pads. All sustenance is provided within a regular cycle. Currently four of the subjects have undergone a form of radiation and are slowly falling victim to its effects. The remaining are in fair health. This particular subject has undergone some modifications and been subjected to several intensive drug therapies.

For the most part the subject has adapted successfully to the treatments. Additionally the subject has a tracking device embedded into back of the skull. This can be removed without harm to the subject. Consequently the reversal of the therapies seems to be impossible with the current research. In time I am confident there will be a means to correct these deteriorations. Most often we find that due to the age of the candidates a full recovery is not out of the question. Recovery tends to favor younger subjects.

Please realize that there is no guarantee in this transaction. Most subjects are destroyed after reaching the end of their cycle. Hopefully this release can be granted before the subjects reach the completion of this phase. The next phase of study encompasses the remaining group and marks the end of the cycle.

I will provide information on a need to know basis. You will receive communication when necessary. Do not make any attempts at contact. Any attempts at contact will nullify this agreement. This agreement does not exist. Do not question my intention to assist you.

#2

Savior. It has been some time since I’ve called upon you for assistance. There is a moment of mischief afoot. There are no specifics. A new voice has come forward seeking answers for a mystery that should not have occurred. This will be the last time I task you against your will. The situation, although dire, will provide substantially. Please consider resuming freedom work temporarily on my behalf.

The situation involves a criminal investigation and the absence of a small child. I believe that the child, a young girl was mistakenly extricated along with a group of criminal subjects. The manner in which she was removed appears to be underhanded and completely unnecessary. There is no evidence of the search. Evidence provided by a hidden surveillance system has been destroyed. It has come to my belief that perhaps she holds valuable knowledge regarding the arrest. However, the matter remains unclear. Without your assistance I will be in the dark on the matter.

There are too many watching. It is imperative that you contact the messenger directly. She understands the risk. Please consider this request. I have come to you in this dire moment, as I can only trust you. Comrade.

#3

You are not to contact me. Don't leave another message. The box has been abandoned. I will make the proper connections on your behalf. Someone will be in contact with you regarding the matter. Money may be of no consequence to you, but it will expedite this process. Try to be patient. I can give you no straight answers.

The people responsible for your child’s absence are not out in the open. The officials were not the problem. Their presence was a distraction. Diversion while a bigger circumstance fell into play. I can not even begin to speculate the exact details of the incident.

I can reassure you that your child is not dead. There are places for children. I can not give you a guarantee on her health. Such places are not meant to permanently accommodate inhabitants. I will not go into the details; only to say that I have a contact in such a place.

This person will get in touch with you soon regarding the details. I can not give you any other information regarding the situation. Take precautions. Destroy this document after reading. Do not make any unnecessary attempts to communicate with anyone regarding this matter.

#4

I’m not sure what to ask. They tell me you’re the one I should contact and to leave a small message at the post box 120. No one mentioned any other protocol. They said to tell you what happened. Any information would help with the situation.

I’m a mother looking for her daughter. My life has been taken away. I’m now a desperate woman, who reaches out to any promise that will ensure she is returned safely. I’ve been told that you provide assistance for a little bit of money. You specialize in locating missing children. I do not desire the specifics and can not hope for the world, only the truth. Please, if you are able… Help me find my daughter.

My daughter is eight years old. She has no birthmarks. Her hair and eyes are light brown. But these are not the things to tell you. They said to tell you what happened. You probably don’t need all this... but it's how I recall it happening.

The car was parked in front of Tolla’s grocery. I was in the middle of a call. Ally, my daughter went ahead of me into the store. We’ve done this a thousand times or more, but this time was different. I couldn’t have been more than three minutes behind.

Outside of the store there were officials in parked vans. Black suits, Green uniforms; Walking in twos and threes. Not giving much attention to the logos on the vehicles, I just went about my business entering the store and paying no mind to the cuffed people with black bags over their heads being escorted outside.

I couldn’t tell you what Ally was wearing when I was sitting next to her in the car. Today I have those clothes clearly visualized in my mind. It’s the one detail I can’t forget. A simple patchwork dress she often wore was resting on the shoulder of a green uniform as he walked past. I never found her inside. Upon my exit there were no suits or uniforms. No vans. No sign of my daughter.

No one saw Ally. According to the authorities, she was never there.

Please contact me with the necessary details immediately. I am told you will know how to contact me. Please understand that money is of no consequence. I would give my life to see the safe return of my child.

Letters. Anonymous. Another for today. Almost forgot about this while wrapping something else up.  Time gets away from you when you're having fun. VERY Excited! Enjoy. m.

Reassignment.

Reassignment (in four)

#1

God help me if someone is reading this…

 I can’t tell you how long I’ve been here or even where this is. Only that it’s been years.  I counted the days and nights, until there wasn’t a reason to anymore. Just over three years, 1100 days that I counted. Reminding myself that I would be able to return to my old life and family - a beautiful wife, Ana with her golden hair and two beautiful children, a son and daughter -  has kept me going. Those days spent in the summers beneath the old oak tree watching the children play. Sun dancing in Ana’s golden hair as her green eyes looked upon them. Wondering if the suffering will ever come to an end and I’ll see them again.

If you’re reading this small note of mine, please help me. I beg you. Send them a message. Tell them I’m alive and miss them everyday. We live on the edge of the southern province in a modest home. Ask them not to worry. News or papers must have reported something about me. There were reports of others missing in the previous weeks. From my memory, the sick and elderly were the first to disappear. Unexplained absences from loved ones without word. Then, there were the missing person’s reports of random men, women and children vanishing into thin air. Followed by unvaccinated students, infected prisoners and doctors like myself being imprisoned for medical violations. There must have been word of my capture.

I promise you I’m no fugitive. You would be abetting no crime. My only crime, being that I’m a carrier of a gene that is descended from an ancestor I’ve never met. A piece of history that reflects neither myself or my beliefs. This tiny piece of my genetic puzzle classifies me for reassignment into a living hell and grants an open invitation for experimentation to eradicate away my aberration. There isn’t much time. But you must understand I’ve committed no crime other than being myself. Like many others, existing is my punishment. An organized isolation to eliminate a part. Something that I take no note of is an affront to society. Please do not confuse my loyalties.

Understand that my work as a doctor was purely scientific in the pursuit of advancing humanity. Prior to my abduction, I’d been working on an alkalizing agent; a compound that was authorized for governmental jurisdiction. Nothing the common medical community would be using for many years. The implications were going to revolutionize the way man lives day to day. Yet trying to make the world a better place wasn’t good enough. I’m reassured through intermittent contact that my research has played a role in the better improvement of mankind. It’s a shame that I’ll never get to see its real world applications.

Please get word to my family. Do not tell them I suffer. Spare them the details. Send only my love and apologies for this absence. Thank you.

Alfred Greystone.

#2

They tell me my name is #13-579.

I say call me Gregor. That’s the name my father used many years ago, when I was a young man. The name he’d use to call me when it was time to get up in the morning. But that’s so far ago, nearly eighty years in the past. Distant to everything that is before me.

The life left before me is short and filled with nothing more than a few breathes in retrospect of the existence I’ve lived. A much dimmer light shines now. But they can’t change what’s been. I’ve lived and pursued happiness. Hiding me from the world won’t change what I’ve experienced. Years spent in the military fighting for a world without war, traveling the paths of explorers, teaching my students about the importance of knowledge, married to a beautiful wife, and living in glorious color.

Years before I was a number, I was a good man living and earning a good life that I’m still proud of. Taught both of my sons and they’ve gone on to lead good lives; A Doctor and a Musician. Watching the world around me drift into a form of dreaming and slowly lack any desire to participate. All the knowledge acquired through thousands of books can not compare to the drilled in bits of trivia that lives in the broadcasting of information. Yet, the numbers of students continued to decline as more information streamed in. Claims that money is king, paramount to existence trumped the need for knowledge. With the education system failing I decided there had to be a way.

After the schools closed through lack of funding I was certain of my cause. Many years I spent educating from old warehouses, back alleys and street corners to anyone wanting or willing to listen. The law disagreed with this type of education. Trouble Making is what they said the first time I was cited for civil disobedience. Rebel Rousing for the second time, when the court ordered the immediate foreclosure on my home as payment for the fines. Disturbing the Peace was my third offense and cost me, my teaching credentials.  I never doubted my convictions. Knowing the importance of these beliefs and what it represented to my family. Every time before the court, I knew I was pleading for what I believed in.

Nearly fifty years after taking my license, my home and disgracing my name, they’ve imprisoned me. Calling me a number and trying to hide away my knowledge from the world. Dangerous is what they call me now; Fearful that I might tell the others about how it used to be. A world they say was crippled by sickness and a lack of technology. Sickness is meant to be overcome making the ailing stronger. Complete faith in technology cripples the mind.

Thankfully my dear wife has not lived long enough to see this day in a world where knowledge is outlawed. And I’m referenced like an old book. #13-579.

#3

Michael,

They tell me I can write you a letter. I get one phone call. But they said I can’t use that to talk to you. I don’t understand the rules. If you were my common law wife, then I could call. There’s no precedent for a man to call his companion. So I tell them there’s no one else to call. Thirty two days I’ve waited for execution, thinking of all the things I would say if given the chance.  And there’s no one to talk to. It won’t be long now so I know this will be a short message.

Michael, I’ve loved you always and haven’t known it enough to tell you every day. Every moment we’ve spent living together, like you say is making beautiful music. I couldn’t create the symphonies without you. You tell me that no other man has captured your heart as I. You have this man’s heart. Although we’ve lived on opposite sides of things somehow it always worked. Your role in the military somehow, brought order to my otherwise disorganized lifestyle. Understandably this hasn’t been an easy relationship. Our courtship hindered by the laws prohibiting civilians and soldiers from fraternizing. But we persevered; loving each other enough to handle the pressures of the world.

 Before I went into hiding, I knew that it would be unbearable without you. Had I known that it would be my own fault for our undoing, I would have left sooner. Knowing that I’m part of the enemy must be a betrayal to you. But I know now, it can’t be changed. They tell me this. After testing and research, they can strip away my genetic composition but aside from death, there’s no cure for this. They can change where I’ve been and what I’ve done. But you can’t change what a person is. No matter the offense to society. Dissect them. Pull at the pieces. My ancestors are part of me, as I carry a part of them. Successful reassignments are limited to altering a facial feature or minor re-programming of the mind.

 I’m an undesired piece. A leftover remnant of a past deemed to be inadequate. My life has never been inadequate. Especially my life spent with you. Despite what they tell you, you are never to think that.  I’m sorry for the fights. I didn’t understand the testing and monitoring or this need to be a better soldier. You were always….you had more than enough strength in my eyes.

The last piece of music on the table was for you. It wasn’t complete. A minor fugue in the key of B. I know the conditioning has changed your thought patterns, but hopefully this can provide a few moments of tranquility before you prepare for the next stage.

My work with music is important. Please continue to share it.

Michael, I’m sorry there isn’t time for more than this. I love you and this life we’ve chosen together was worth the risk.

Arthur Greystone.

#4

Daddy, Daddy.

Where are you? It’s Saenna. Please, I’m scared.

Mommy says I can write to you here. Today’s the fifth of October. It’s been six months and the letters keep coming. Letters of support and encouragement filled with checks for money from your old job. The men on the TV said you went to help with the war, except the war never happened. Too many people left and didn’t come back. I’m keeping up with my lessons and I have so many questions for you. We aren’t allowed outside anymore. Mommy says the weather is getting cooler now, but I think there’s another reason for it. I miss you.

Daddy, when are you coming home? We need you.

It’s the twelve of January. Adam is sick and there’s a doctor living here. He isn’t a doctor like you. He has medicine and needles that are supposed to make it all better. But Adam isn’t getting better. It looks like he has a large red balloon in his face. Mommy won’t let me talk to Adam and the doctor makes me sit in the tea room quietly. I’m not allowed to take my lessons anymore. I have so many questions. The men on the TV aren’t sure where the missing people go and have stopped talking about it. There’s a new program about the… I have to go. They’re letting me see Adam. Come home soon.

Daddy, why aren’t you writing back? Are you punishing us?

They came for Mommy three weeks ago on April 3^rd. She hasn’t returned. Mr. and Mrs. Heinichen are sitting with me until she returns home. Adam was moved to another hospital last month. There was no word on his condition until April 2^nd. Mommy wouldn’t say. Something was wrong. The next day she was out the door and onto the next train. I think Adam is dead. I’m so scared. What if she doesn’t come back? I’ll be all alone. So many people are now. Children without families; that was the last thing I remember the man on TV talking about. Now there’s no TV at the Heinichens’ so I listen to an old Victrola that sits in the parlor room. It’s hard to know what’s happening without the news. I’ve continued my lessons despite the trouble it causes. Mrs. Heinichen says I shouldn’t bother with the news or lessons and tells me to read quietly in the parlor.

Daddy, where have you been for the last 2 years?

Adam’s tired body conceded to the illness almost thirteen weeks after being admitted to the hospital. His death was June 12^th before sunset. I never was given the chance to properly say goodbye to my baby brother. Mother didn’t forgive the doctors for his death. She hasn’t returned us home since it happened two years ago. We’ve stayed hidden from the state, living in the Northern Province. There’s been no letters since we left.

Daddy what happened to the missing people? Please come home. Saenna.

--

Reassigned. Without a choice. Most of us, want a choice. However… Few really make one. Could someone come in and tell you that something about you is flawed and it MUST be mandatorily corrected? Not exactly. There are some liberties still left in our society. People don’t realize how lucky they are sometimes. Letters. This is the other series. I am excited. The two series are related. All I will say for right now, it is more. And I will explain at a later time. Enjoy! M.