Date: 6/14/2025
Time: 10:06 PM
Mood: Numb
Dior keeps getting on me to write these more. Ever since I was Class-X'd I've known that these are recorded, it only makes sense. It doesn't bother me at all, it would if you asked me half a year ago. I just see little point to writing. It used to keep me going, it was a way to wind down at times. Now it's just tedious. I don't find any joy in it anymore; not that I find much joy in anything lately.
It's the same thing day in and day out. Wake up, work, wake up from a nap, work some more, go to bunks just to work more, drink myself to sleep, and then repeat. Breaches help break things up, makes me have to think on my feet and keep people organized. But I can't have myself hoping for breaches to happen, not that I do.
The most notable thing these past couple weeks was that I witnessed an execution. I thought about writing then, but just like now I saw little point. I'm only writing about it because of Dior. It was a traitor, an Insurgent sympathizer. Gravitas and Lupus brought him to Dior and I, we spoke with the guy and he denied everything. Refused to acknowledge his crimes. But Internal Affairs knew, and we knew too. When Lupus shot him in the head, I felt nothing. The blood splattered across the walls and my uniform. I didn't care. Good riddance, I suppose.
I need to talk to people more. I've got a couple people I can talk to, Sharps and Dior I guess. I'd talk to Hush but he can't see one of his commanding officers in that light. It's better that way. Maybe I can talk to Druid? No, he doesn't care. He has too much other shit on his plate with all the chaos going on lately.