Xian's Journal

[Xian]

EXISTENTIAL PROBLEMS ASIDE, I do believe I enjoy my new existence. Though I can't compare it with my previous life, I can compare it with what the media presents to be the typical mundane life. Adjust for realism, adjust for extremes, adjust for what just makes sense, and I would prefer this to having a nine-to-five job, looking forward to retirement or the next holiday, scrounging to get by, messing with politics and religion, posting on social networks, following the next big thing.

Of course, it would be another question if I was among the richer mortals. That would seem to be an interesting life, so long as I wasn't part of the daily grind. I think though, if I was, I would still prefer to be rich and be the vampire that I am now. As it is, money is just a tool, something I think I should be able to get enough of for my needs. So, definitely, this is what I want to be.

I do like watching television, however. Even the undead can appreciate Internet streaming and torrent downloads! Specially since I find it easy to hack into the networks in this city to get free access. This love of television - and movies, and books, and so on, probably has something to do with having a lot of time on my hands, though I think it also has something to do with my liking to watch people. It probably has more to do with that, come to think of it. I like learning their stories, or, having no other option, imagining them.

The guitarist around the corner, playing for a few coins and bills. He has a family far away somewhere, but he's not proud of what he is. When he was younger, he chose music and his muse. But music is a fickle mistress, and she didn't give him the life he hoped for. So now he plays street corners, works odd jobs during the day. And hopes someday he can face the kid and ex-wife he left behind.

Or maybe he's always been a loner, married only to his art. Perhaps music was not his mistress, but his one great love. Drawn by the passion of his art, by his commitment, he's forsaken all other human contact, except those generated by his playing. So he writes and composes during the day, sells what work he can, and plays for the enjoyment of passers-by during the night. And he is content, for now. He is with his love, after all.

The nurse rushing off to work. She's a single mom, raising her young teenage kid, who she leaves at night with her mother, who lives with her too. She works a shift at the hospital, the night shift, when she can get it, because it pays more, and lets her take care of her child during the day. She was in love a while ago, but he left to find other things, and now she's alone. But not really alone, since she has her mother, and her child. Times are tough, but she is happy.

Or perhaps she works nights because she studies during the day. She has had no love in her life, but has had to take care of her aged mother and a younger sibling. In the day, she studies medicine, or maybe business. At night, she works as a nurse to pay the bills. Someday, she'll be great, but for now she struggles on. Some days she feels like she won't make it to the next day, but she presses on.

So I watch the stories of everyday people, of extraordinary people, of people forced into events they have little control over, forced to overcome, to come ahead, to be more than they are. I think it makes my heart almost beat.

Heh. Almost a vampire joke - see what I did there?\

Anyway.

I don't think I could live a normal life; at the very least, not anymore. There's something they say about seeing the face of God - it changes you. Well, this changed me, and I can never be the same again, even if I did have the choice to become what I was.

But I don't think that choice is available to me anyway.

[Xian]

ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER DREAM. I wish I could make some sense of them, or that at least I could suddenly meet this woman I keep dreaming about. Then maybe she can tell me what they mean, or at least lead me to a way I can find an explanation for myself.

Like most dreams, this one started in the middle. But really, almost every story starts in the middle, doesn't it? The protagonist begins doing something, and then his past is slowly revealed. Even if it begins when the protagonist is born, there's always something that happened before that. It's all one great story, isn't it?

Anyway. This one, again, started in the middle, with no explanations. I am walking through what seems to be a catacomb, a long cave carved out of the rock. On the walls are niches where the dead rest, and in irregular intervals, torches light the way. Though I can see well enough, even in the places where the torches shed little to no light, where they have burned out and not been replaced.

I am seeking something, I am seeking someone. I believe I am seeking the woman again, but I don't know how she or I got here to this place. I don't know what is so significant, so important here that we would be here. But I must find her, so I follow the paths, and I find I know the way, even as I reach intersections along the way. I can hear her calling, in a way, and I simply have to follow.

I am cautious, but careful. There is something else here, there are others here, but I do not fear them. But I am wary of them. They have captured the woman, and they would capture or kill me, given the chance. I do not plan to give them one. So I avoid them, again my instincts guiding me more than my skills.

I reach a larger room, better lit with more torches. There is a large stone table at the center of it, many different sigils carved into the floor and the walls. I don't recognize the sigils, but that's not surprising. On top of the stone table, she is there, chained by her arms and legs to the corners. Her face is dirty, and her dress is torn and looks almost black, but somehow the blue seems to peek through. She looks tired, exhausted, but she looks at me and nods at me, encouraging me to greater speed.

I free her quickly; I have the knives from my first dream with me, and they are strong enough to break the chains. She does not have hers, but that's not surprising if she was captured. Once free, she embraces me briefly in thanks, and I feel warmth go through my cold body where we touch. I wish that I could stay in her arms, I long to kiss her. But I know this cannot be.

After all, we must go. We must leave here. I feel the urgency in me, and I see the same in her eyes. No fear, though, only the need to go, and now. So we stand, we help each other up, and we run together. She takes my hand, I take hers, and we run back through the pathways I walked through. Behind us, there are voices that call to us to stop. Threats. Curses. Screams. But we do not stop, and we cannot be stopped, and they cannot catch us, We take turns in the lead, and we pull each other towards our mutual freedom.

Finally, there is light at the end of the tunnel, and I just know that this is the way out. I've long since forgotten the paths we have taken; they don't matter anyway. The way out seems both farther and closer with each step. I almost falter, but she pulls me towards the exit, towards the end, towards the light. Only a little more. Only a little more. Only a little more.

I am unafraid, though I am starting to feel tired, I actually feel it in my bones, and my flesh, and my spirit. And I realize that I am gasping with exertion, and I am surprised to find that so is she. We are breathing, gasping, struggling for breath.

We reach the exit, and we run out into the sun.

[Xian]

I WISH THAT I could understand what my dreams meant. I wish that the woman in blue was real, that I would some day turn a corner and she would be there, wondering where I have been all this time. And I wish that she would have some answers for me, or at least some way for me to make sense of my dreams.

Or maybe she can tell me that they were more than dreams. That they were memories peeking through the shadows and fog in my mind from where they were hidden or some other way lost to me. Or that maybe they are premonitions or prophesies, paths that I will soon walk myself.

It's more than possible that she doesn't exist, of course. I believe it's actually more than likely that I made her up. Oh, maybe her physical image exists somewhere, perhaps I have seen or met the person that matches the face, matches the body, matches the blue dress.

But the totality of the person I find and meet in my dream, she's probably not real. No, likely she is a figment of my imagination, a construct to help me deal with something my subconscious believes is important. I think she could be a gestalt, a combination of personalities between people I have met before, fragments brought together to make a whole, so that I can easier make sense of things.

I will admit that something inside me fears this to be true, which could be a sign that it is. I think I have been very affected by my dreams of this woman. I believe that I have become attached to her, that in some way she has become real, even if she may not be.

I will admit that something inside me longs to sleep during the day in the hopes that I will dream of her again. That I will meet her again, see her face, touch her hands, feel her closeness. I am a schoolboy with his first infatuation. The first love of youth, the first attractions of biology and psychology pulling together to give the first taste of love. Or lust. Likely both.

Can I remember her scent? There are many scents in the waking world that I can recognize. Do I remember her voice? I can tell a number of voices now among the people that I watch. I don't think that I can do either. I even wonder if I would actually recognize her if I should meet her on the street or see a picture of her. I know her face in my dreams, and it lingers for a while when I wake. But it does not stay long anymore, and it fades as the night becomes deeper.

There's a certain insanity to it all that appeals to me, though. It makes for a great story, after all, even if it does involve me being the protagonist, the one affected, the one afflicted. Not the hero, though, not even the leading man of the story. Perhaps the leading mad. Heh. The tragic figure, with the love that can never be recognized or responded to, that will never be reciprocated.

Do I love her? I don't think so, not in the sense of the romantic. Though perhaps there is a little of that in my dreams. I do long for her, however. Sometimes deeply, often out of curiosity. It is a longing that is like physical lust and vampiric hunger, and it seems to hover near the edges of my consciousness all the time now. Some part of me thinks I should purge her from my mind. But more of me is willing to have the lie rather than be alone in the truth.

And so I do wish for her to be real, in some way. Though I know that it isn't likely that she is.

The best thing I can do is to make sense of why she exists in my dreams, and what my dreams mean. I wish my subconscious would speak to me clearly; one would think that, being a vampire, a changed being, a different creature, a possible higher evolution of human life, that I would know my mind better. Specially since... well, I'll talk about that more later on.

Things to do, places to be, dreams to think about.

[Xian]

I CONTINUE TO BE CURIOUS about the existence of other vampires. What are they like? Where did they come from? What is my sire's sire like? Heck, where did we all come from? Do vampires have some sort of concept of society, or family? One would think, that since we come from humanity after all, that we would share at least some of humanity's traits. And Humans in general are very social creatures.

But maybe that's supposed to be different among our kind? Maybe that was one of the changes that this new existence forces on us? Perhaps we're allowed to sire another vampire, to teach them the way they should go, the rules of the new game, then push them out? I know part of this is my paranoia rearing its head again; but what if I'm right? What if our kind are meant to be solitary creatures? What if we're supposed to live out our immortality alone?

Not that it's all that unappealing to me. I honestly don't feel like a very social creature myself. I mean, I don't shun the company of my sire, though I do generally avoid the company of the living. Though that in itself may be because I'm different from them and I know it. And maybe I fear that, given enough time, they'll know it too. And not that I actually fear the living, except maybe in great numbers armed with pitchforks or even shotguns.

And maybe been watching too many zombie movies.

Speaking of zombies. I've just learned that there is a place here in Harper Rock called the Quarantine Zone. Apparently, according to the Harper Rock City Herald, there was an outbreak of some disease some years back, a disease that created zombies. Not that they call them that, though the descriptions and some photos I was able to find that claim to have been taken at the time of the outbreak fits the description well enough.

Today, they're supposedly still studying the disease itself, so they walled out the affected area and called it the Quarantine Zone, right in the city. Trying to rescue the infected, one other press release said, get a cure so this thing won't happen again. Explains those rather high walls I'd been avoiding because of all the military types. Thought it was some sort of base or something.

Pretty sure there's more to the story there, and I've found the usual conspiracy blogs saying one thing or another. Zombies are real! The disease is fake! Etc. Etc. But for now I think I'll keep staying clear. If it is some sort of disease, I'm not in the mood to roll the dice, Vampire constitution notwithstanding. And the fact that I'm already dead may help. But still, avoid. At least until I can learn more about it.

Then again, undead. Zombies are one of the known forms of undead in myth, like vampires. Maybe there's some sort of connection, maybe they're "real" zombies. I mean, I don't think I knew vampires were real, after all. So maybe there's some sort of link of some sort. I'll see what I can dig up, or maybe I'll ask my sire about it.

Which brings me back to wondering about vampires. I can understand why there's no easily available tome or something that explains it all; though it would be funny if there was, and everybody thought that it was some sort of fiction. Heh. Right out the Vampire Lestat there. I liked that read. Bad movie though. Maybe I'll do that in the future. It would sell to the right crowd, maybe make some money.

Then again, I'd probably get myself into trouble. But then again, maybe not. I still don't quite understand our kind yet after all. And while I know that I have to hide what I am from mortals, maybe there are other rules and so on. Rules to follow, and maybe rules that can be bent.

Ah well. Let's see where it all goes.

[Xian]

DESPERATE TO LEARN MORE about my kind, I've turned to reading up on everything that I can find on vampires. This has recently included basic information from online encyclopedias, some psychology papers on humans who believe they are vampires, and the usual myths, legends and pseudo-histories available. There's even literature supposedly hundreds of years old and written by one who considered himself a vampire hunter. And at least one, supposedly hundreds of years old as well and written by a vampire.

And then there's the countless books, movies, shows and so on about vampires. We're fashionable these days it seems. In some circles, we almost seem like a joke, but I wonder if they'll laugh if a pair of fangs greets them in the night. Anyway, I read as much as I can, watch as much as I can, take it all in, see what makes sense, and what seems like outright garbage. So, yeah, I even watch the comedies. Never know.

Good stuff, all considered. I've at least had quite a few stories to read, though I feel no closer to the truth. I'm wondering how I can discern what is truth, what is half-truth, what is false? Best I can do is try to put some pieces together, see if something matches another thing, and maybe they'll point to a common truth in some way.

I have time, after all, to go through this slowly. While some part of me feels some urgency, I realize that it's likely just an excitement about finding others of my kind, or finding out more about us.

I've even tried to visit some places online that don't appear credible. Places where conspiracy theories and pseudoscience are discussed. This under the premise that if I thought about pretending to be a human pretending to be a vampire, maybe another has thought of it too. I would probably start by playing around in the conspiracy forums and chats, maybe made a blog or two, so maybe another vampire thought the same thing.

It's a long shot, but then with no real leads, I may as well try it. I've been on a few, but I'm still looking around, though maybe I'll try poking some of the so-called vampires and see who really has fangs to bite with. At the very least, it may prove to be fun.

With all my research I've found it amazing that there are many different beliefs all around the world, about the undead, and about vampires. Though in some cases, "vampire" just means a creature of the night that feeds on the life forces of the living. There are some strange myths in Asia, for example, about women whose heads float at night to feed on living entrails. Or even one that carries a long straw to do just that.

But what's encouraging, at least from the point of view of someone looking for vampires, is that there are myths everywhere. Practically everywhere that mankind has been, there arose a myth, a story, about the dead coming back to life to prey on the living. So, either human psychology responded the same way all over the world, or there's a single genesis for these stories.

Maybe there are different kinds of vampires, and each started a different way? Or maybe there was one original vampire, and over time vampires began to gain variance, a sort of undead evolution. I mean, between my sire and I, there are many similarities, and some differences. But maybe there are greater variations out there.

Aside from all the vampire hunting, I've also been reading on the odd thing that catches my eye, and there was one thing that caught my eye recently. The basic premise of the article, was that mankind needs its monsters, to the point that they created them when they don't exist. Zombies, vampires, ghouls, ghosts, werewolves, the whole lot, were created as absolute evil, to help prove than mankind was not evil.

It went on to say that it even applied to social dynamics: my tribe is good, the enemy tribe is evil, they are monsters. I am good, my enemy is evil, my enemy is a monster. To the point that humans consciously or subconsciously assign attributes to their "enemies" to make them monsters, so as to justify themselves, to make themselves feel they are better than their enemies.

And you can still see the evidence of it today. People demonize their neighbors, take the moral high ground adamantly on online forums, repeat tales about monsters in customer support, that guy in the drive through, the one who cut them off on their way to work. Countries tell lies about other countries to unite their people against the great evils to be found elsewhere.

The idea being: "We make monsters because if they don't exist, then we may be monsters ourselves."

Makes me wonder what kind of monsters we vampires can conjure up.

[Xian]

I FINALLY DECIDED to do it tonight, and posted something of a dare for those vampire conspiracy theorists out there, and for all those wannabes. Maybe some of them actually know something, and maybe I've poked a vampire bear somewhere and I'll actually find one. Not that I expect a lot to come out of it, but maybe I'll have a little bit of fun, at least.

I did a couple of posts, some to foreign sites, some to local ones; though I do hope the local ones get some good hits. I'm not really sure I can handle the logistics of travelling far. Staying in cities makes sense for vampires, after all: lots of humans to feed on, and lots of dark places to hide in. Unless I can magically dig into the earth to hide in it - one of the myths claimed vampires could do that, but that doesn't sound too appealing to me. Dirt in my socks and all that.

The post has already attracted the kind of attention I expected - some humor, some questionably helpful links, and some that I guess are simply trying to keep themselves amused. If it really attracts a vampire, I'd be surprised as well; I did admit this was a long shot. I'm tempted to ask people to email me, but I expect any email address I posted would be flooded with the same things I've been finding the past weeks: wannabes, rumors, mysticism, double talk, mumbo jumbo, bad cgi, bad Photoshop, good Photoshop... Maybe I'll find something new though.

Oh, and those vampire cats, ha ha. Yes, sarcasm, though I guess some of them were cute. Really, the internet has everything and then some. I've even found quite a bit of rule 34 while I've been searching.

But what I really want to find is another one of us; another vampire, maybe someone who can answer the questions I have. Or at least can lead me to someone who can answer my questions.

I'll give it a few more days, or whenever I lose interest. You never know, maybe there are other vampires out there looking for others of their kind. Heck, it may be a dream of a dream, but maybe I'll even be trolled by some internet wizard of a vampire who gets his kicks goading the wannabes and conspiracy theorists. I've thought of doing that myself. Maybe I'll make that my next project yet.

Worst case, I've a sort-of lead: there's a section in the city's main library where the books haven't been scanned or been made available online. Or at least, I suspect there is; I'll have to dig a little to be sure. I can probably get the building plans easy enough, and maybe the security schedules. I can probably make an incursion out of it in a few nights. At the very least, I can probably walk out with some hard-to-find books I won't have to check out.

Of course, I could just keep roaming the streets and cross my fingers; maybe I'll get lucky and find one that way. And I could also bump into some flying monkeys and talking dogs. Or that pink ninja elephant that hangs out around the corner.

[Xian]

IT SEEMS THAT I can still get drunk, though not in the way that humans do. My vampiric constitution, as resilient as it seems, prevents me from being able to stomach actually consuming alcohol. I know, because I actually tried it once, about a week ago. I was trying to see how much I could fake being human; drinks are apparently quite a difficulty. I threw it up rather quickly.

Though maybe I can learn how to keep it in, at least to be able to pass as human in a bar, for example. Though I honestly don't know when I'd personally go to a bar and for what reason; I doubt I was into that much when I was alive anyway, and I don't really see the need for it now. But, I reasoned, who knows when the ability to fake-consume alcohol can come handy.

Anyway, the point is, while I can't actually consume and digest alcohol, I can apparently still get drunk. The basic idea is to feed on a human in a state of inebriation - high enough blood alcohol level and I can actually feel the difference. Not that it lasts too long, though, but it did give me a little of a buzz. Makes me wonder if I ever drank much when I was alive.

This realization, reached when I fed on a woman stumbling home alone after a night out with her girlfriends, makes me wonder about what else vampires can take to get intoxicated. Is there such a thing as an addictive substance for vampires? A hallucinogen that affects us? Something that gets us high - that isn't blood, I mean?

Questions, questions and more questions. Though at least I get a few answers here and there.

Oh, and just to clear it up: her name was Sherry, and I helped her get into her apartment building. Knight in faded black leather armor, I probably didn't look very threatening, and she really did need the help. And as I helped her through the doorway, I found that I had to stop short of actually coming into her apartment.

I guess this looked even more chivalrous, so she laughed and invited me in. From there, I found I could finally step through the doorway. Curious. I had never before tried to enter someone else's home, so apparently that myth about vampires being unable to enter homes without an invitation is actually true. Or at least it's true for me. As I've said before, I think it possible that there are many different variations of vampires, and that not all the rules apply to all kinds.

Anyway, one thing led to another, and while I didn't actually do anything to her, I did end up taking a little of her blood for my efforts. She passed out to quickly to really do anything anyway, and I wasn't really all that interested after I had a sip.

So I left her sleeping on her couch; maybe she'll think I was a dream, or maybe some kind of angel who kept her out of trouble. I think I like that. A dark angel who helped a poor drunk woman get safely to bed. I'm a new myth, a gallant vampire designated escort. Get drunk! Pass out! Have a friendly neighborhood vampire take you home to your bed! All you need to do is invite them in and pay them in blood!

I think maybe that alcohol's affected me a bit more than I realized.

[Xian]

THERE IS a certain sense of insanity to this season that peaks on this particular day. For various reasons, people of various ethnicities, religions, denominations, political views, intellectual levels, sexual orientations, philosophical sophistries and so on, have reason to either do something, believe in something, or get angry about something.

Ah Christmas. The most wonderful time of the year indeed. When all mortals go crazy for one reason or another. Buying gifts or denouncing the commercialization of the season, or even doing both. Some insist that the season has to mean something deeper, while others simply accept it for what they can get out of it - a holiday, a couple of gifts given, a couple of gifts received. Maybe a family dinner, some alcohol, some hurt feelings, and both good memories and bad.

I wonder if vampires are any exception? Having come from humans, I keep wondering what attributes we retain and what we discard after the change. I'm typical of our kind in at least this, then the answer seems to be that we aren't an exception at all; here I am writing about it. I've even planned to take a walk and see if I can take advantage of the evening's revelry.

But I guess the question returns to what we've kept from our previous humanity? Do we maintain communities? Do we give gifts, appreciate them, reciprocate the thoughts involved? Do we pretend to do so, and offer false greetings, and accept the falsehoods as self-deception? I can almost imagine a specially decorated tree, surrounded by various vintages, ready to be partaken of by a gathering of bloodsuckers.

As ridiculous as the question is, is there a vampire Santa? A vampire savior? A vampire god who demands or requests our worship? Is there some sort of special tradition among us, and is it unique, or something transformed, just as we were transformed?

My thoughts at this time also turn to the family that I had in life. Are they still looking for me, do they even have an idea where I went? Do they worry at this time, or do they celebrate that they have not heard from me at all? (I have to admit now that I even find it strange to use "me" here, though I guess it does still apply. I was changed, I am new, but I do retain some of the old, enough of it for some sort of continuity. Thoughts for another day perhaps)

I am unsure how I truly feel about this. On the one hand, I do think that my memory loss was a way to better separate me from my previous life, though I suspect this does not happen to all vampires. On the other, I can imagine how the old me would respond to these thoughts - with some sentimentality, perhaps some guilt. And these two taken together leads to confusion; I can't trust what I think I feel. Am I deceiving myself one way, or the other? Does knowledge of how I would have reacted affect how I think I am reacting now?

Will I always second guess myself? Perhaps. I am of the introspective sort, after all, so it seems I will always think about my motivations, my thoughts, my actions. And then I will study them again. I hope this doesn't drive me quite insane, though I guess if or when that happens, I would be in good company, at least.

[Xian]

APPARENTLY, there is at least one individual in this city that considers himself a vampire hunter. My encounter with this possibly lethal annoyance leads me to be even more certain that there are more vampires out there, and that there are those who know we exist. I will admit though, that the possibility also exists that the one who thinks he is a hunter is suffering from a mental disorder, and I was only unfortunate to encounter him. A slight possibility, but a possibility nonetheless.

I do believe that the evidence discredits the latter. I saw the precision of his technique, the confidence in his stride, the determination of his actions. Even the vague glimpses of his mind that my vampiric nature allowed me suggested training, discipline, and purpose. There is a possibility that I am wrong, and maybe just paranoid, but it does seem that we are not the only creatures that hunt in the night. It does seem that my earlier fears - that humans can and will hunt us - has come true.

Now, I do not consider myself a particularly physical example of vampire-kind, if any of my research at all holds true. Even compared to a human, I do not think that I am exceptionally strong, and neither do I have any exceptional knowledge of combat arts. I can shoot a gun, though not very well, and I can usually avoid physical blows by virtue of some agility, hand-eye coordination and the ability to see a little of what someone is about to do. Against someone with even less training than I, chances are I can prevail.

But when a man armed with a blade long enough and sharp enough to cut off a limb, or even my head, marches at me with a purposeful stride, with his mind intent on doing me harm, I had no illusions that I could take him on. Instead, I decided to do the one thing I was sure I could do: escape as soon as possible, while avoiding as many blows as I could.

It was a great effort on my part; I would have been breathing hard in minutes, had I still the need to breathe. As it was, I could barely just avoid his blows, and one time his blade cut deeply into my right arm, leaving a long cut from my shoulder to my elbow. The wound burned painfully, but I managed to escape, taking advantage of his overconfidence to leap up to a fire escape after a blow he meant to finish me with.

It's possible that the blade had some chemical on it, maybe some sort of magical charm even. Though I think it likely that there's a psychological factor involved - I believe I am still quite shaken by my encounter. My wound does appear to already be healing, however; if I am right, this should be healed within a day or so, and I won't need any additional treatment or even stitches.

Anyway, I made sure that he was not able to follow me, and I took a long way around to return to my place of rest. Rooftops, hidden paths, dark alleys, even a quick run into the kitchen of a diner and out the loading dock. For a while, I considered finding an alternate safe haven for the day, but I did not think it safer that way. And besides, if that annoyance really was a hunter, and he knows where I slept, it would have been smarter for him to find me during the day anyway. Unless it is some sort of rite of passage, or honor system among his kind. Whatever it is, I believe I should be safe right where I am.

I do think that I need to take additional precautions in the future. I also think that I need to be more careful; though I thought I had taken many precautions already. Perhaps he and his ilk can sense our presence, and he had chanced upon me? That could be one explanation, though I will not discount that I may have been careless in some way. I will take a look at both possibilities.

I think that my finding more vampires and learning more about this new, dark, sinister world I am now a part of is even more urgent than before.

[Xian]

IT HAS OCCURRED TO ME that there can be certain levels of self-delusion in keeping a personal journal such as this. The delusion, I think, is the thought the journal will ever be read, even by the writer. That the words therein contain the significance, or will retain the significance, that the writer first thought they had. That anyone would actually care what the writer thought. That the writer would actually be able to put down the truth.

The last statement, this important layer of self-delusion, would suggest that the writer either subconsciously or consciously accepts or seeks out to deceive themselves, or perhaps others. Either by avoiding questionable truths that would put the writer in a bad light to their prospective audience, or worse, outright seeking to plant falsehood. To hide what blemishes exist, or to create a veneer of righteousness that did not exist. If it is the first, perhaps it is the prerogative of the writer to remember themselves in a better light, to hide what they are ashamed of. If it is the latter, then the writer may be guilty of a great many sins, depending on the extent and depth of the lie.

I think the extent of the lie matters, and the reason behind it. Anybody can forgive a small lie, and there are those who can forgive a great one, if there is proper justification for it. Small things need not matter, and great ones can be more important depending on the cause for it.

Journals, however, do presuppose that everything, if not most things, written within, is the truth. Or at least contains a hint of the truth. Though I guess there are historical examples of some written with the purpose of creating a hero out of a monster. To deceive others with a grand lie.

But if a journal is meant to deceive the self, if it is an effort to rewrite the present and change memories of the past, what can be achieved by this? Specially if the writer has no intention of letting another gain access to the words within? Is there a hope, perhaps another self-delusion, that the journal will, in time, change the memories of the writer? Clear their conscience? Justify better the actions taken, beliefs chosen, ideals broken?

Is it even possible to lie to one's self, and to have the self believe it?

If what I have read is true, then there's actually scientific evidence that says, yes, it is. Where once memory was considered absolute, unchanging and immutable, if unreliable, it has been found to not quite be so. Apparently, human memories can change, and humans can remember things differently from how it actually happened. People remember the good times to be golden, or the bad times to be true horrors. Or memory can mute the horrors, or dim the best days. Apparently, it just takes time. Humans can rewrite their internal histories, they can lie to themselves.

Can we vampires do the same? Can I lie to myself, and have myself believe the lie? How much can I really trust myself in these journals, specially as one of my greatest concerns is that just as I have forgotten my previous life, I may eventually forget even more pieces of myself? Can I really say that I have never deceived myself within these pages? Is it possible that, at the very beginning, I chose to lie to myself, and chose to believe the lie, that now that is all I know? That the lie is the truth, and the truth is lost?

What if I have so accepted the lie, that I don't even remember having ever made the choice to perform this self-deception, this subtle lobotomy, this psycho-surgical manipulation of my memories?

What exactly are the possible limits of self-deception in this manner? Can I really lie to myself in this way? Or are there any limits at all? Perhaps from the very start, I've been rewriting my present, and nothing is actually real? How susceptible am I to my own manipulations?

Such, paranoia, Xian. But I do have basis for this, after all.