TOUCHMEDONOTTOUCHMEIAMALIVE

Tuesday, December 15, 1970

Fig. 034

From the Admiral's logs:

God left the world sometime last month. I'd been at sea for two weeks and was informed upon my return. We had thrown a large bash for the promotion of my first mate right before we left, and it seems that the moment we set sail he fled. It seems to happen like this everytime. I finally get close to seeing him and he turns and runs. A coward. So what's a boy or girl to do? He's made out to be this legend amongst these people, and then he threw a wrench into the cogs that power this once well-kept machine. My knuckles blistered in anger, and walking became difficult. I feined the use of the medic and went on a quest, but I only returned empty handed. The first mate joined me, along with a small crew of my captains. The frenchman seems to be going through some pretty bizarre troubles himself. Maybe this is what he needs. We came upon evil today. It's tentacles raised high, nine men died, and I killed them myself. Things aren't going the way I planned. They are exceeding expectations. I am not pleased by this. I've been listening to a musician we brought on board for some time now. I am paying him well to not stop playing. The harp does something to me. My skin has begun to peel back and my flesh grows more bare as each day passes. I am being torn from something I used to be, but it seems to be showing its ugly face more often in realizing its own death. I was lied to, and the beast was brought from his slumber. It's hard to put back to rest something that has already been dormant for several years. Was it worth all this? Your deception has sickened me and my crew alike. Can you still smile? How did he feel? Every hair on his body bristling to meet with you, and you were starving for trouble. Five captains raised their brows in deep anticipation for a frightful vengeance, and when not one came they were settled in an eerie way. Now one has taken upon himself to darken the deeds of past, and the rest and myself must set forth to set things right. I'm still the king's man, and his daughter is in deep need. I've ignored her troubles too long, but it's hard to return to her after such a stained past. She was greatly disheartened at my absence, and I fear I'll never quite be forgiven. I won a bet and got back my ways, but how do I carry on a deed I'm no longer sworn to? My nation worries and I have no sympathy. I will fulfill his one last wish and allow her to take the thrown, and then I will leave. I've already left. It was noted long ago that things could never play out the way he really intended them to. I'll take my captains and we will start anew. Nothing will come of this. Everything will come from this. Someone did die for this, and now they will live again.