2:06 p.m. - Sun enters 29� Aquarius, Anno IVxvi
The Misanthropic Father Damian
Standing there paralized, as the though itself gripped his soul, as firm as he held that blade against his arm...the thought of braking free. Outside these walls lay a collapsing world that mirrored the souls of it's inhabitants and though he lived in constant mortification, the outside could be no worse, or so he thought. Then he hacked and slashed, for even thinking of anything besides God himself.

The laughter of fools, the toil of man on this earth, all seem like chains that Devil has around the commoner's souls. With all of the demons stirring about in his mind, he thought of himself much purer than the rest for he doth repent every night and every day and every minute and every single second in every day of the life he now consider a complete and utter waste. He, for a second, felt like a regular man for he no longer felt God in his heart. No demon, no man, no angel from heaven or hell, he was disguisted with it all, but with most of all himself.

If anybody made himself a martyr, it be him, for he became his own demon and his own God, he became something more than what you and I could ever pretend to understand. Glory be to Father Damian!