...

I had a moment of over lucidity just now, looking at that entry number. Over 600 years since I started my daily logs. I know I've missed a few, so who knows how long it's actually been. This is my only consistent way of keeping track.

Looking back on my life, I find myself thinking of long lost friends. Families. Even strangers. Somehow, it never stops hurting when I outlive another one. Thought I would be desensitized to it by now. I really thought.

But do I regret what I've become? Have I grown to resent my functional immortality?

...No. No, I do not, and have not. I'm still me, even after all this time. And even after all this time, there's still so much more to experience, so much more to explore, and importantly, so much more to catalogue.

It's been rough keeping my data banks well-maintained. Replacement parts are hard to find. Just accessing them is often a pain. Seems like every time I go back to what used to be Facility 10, there's some new rubble or other obstruction blocking the way. But I manage. For now.

I keep making new friends. Enemies, too, but not as many of those. Most people don't know I'm any different. I still intend to keep it that way. Maybe it's selfish, but I like their company. Telling them the truth only seems to drive them off.

Those signals from however many years ago turned out to be some sort of energy pulse from a far-off star. That's my theory at this point, anyways. Not aliens like I'd hoped. Not anyone like me, either.

...

Sometimes... Sometimes I still wish I could recreate what I did. Bring someone with me. It's futile, I know, all of my attempts have only brought well-documented failure, but... I can't help it. Nor can I help myself.

————

Inventory:

SRSSDs: 412 units.

Monitors: 1,241 units of varying size.

Shelves: 782 functional.

Hot Chocolate: 352 tons. (In case Sif ever "wakes up".)

Weapons: 23 firearms; 50 assorted makeshift knives, bludgeons, and clubs; 42 "miscellaneous" weapons.

Currency: 2,568,284 obsolete coins, cash, credits, etc.; 190,774 modern currency.

End of inventory.

——————————

I hope somebody finds these logs someday. Maybe they'll be useful, somehow. But not while I'm still here. I couldn't live with the embarrassment of them reading everything I wrote about my lovers.

...

Well, I guess I could. I would have to, after all.

...

Maybe I should write about them more.

End of log.

Image: PRICLO Heart Project / 初めての共同作業!?

Game: Princess Closet

Location: Side Story

ART - The heART Project - Robert Smith