Diary of Jir So-Kinh

[Jir So-Kinh]

...datapad opened...
...date: 2/1/823...
...Entry #1...

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Pointless, pointless, POINTLESS!

I need it. I REQUIRE IT. No no, calm down, little one. That's right: take some breath. Inhale... exhale... inhale...

Last vial, last vial of this god-damn medication, damn Orange Dream. It strive it, I puke with it - but I need it. Why oh why I need it, anyway? This - or death. Lovely death. But no: I value my mere life, even if it doesn't mean much. Nobody likes me, nobody loves me.

Nobody will. I scare them. But then, they are bad for each other anyway. Pirates, police... even the mercenaries! Screw them all.

Last vial.

Yes, I need more of it. I will stash it somewhere, or ask any Junker, Outcast or just a SMALL EFFING SMUGGLER to get it. Calm down. No need to scruff the fluff.

... no need.




And I had it, I feel much better than before. I can forget: the LPI, the Rogue I've picked up with, these entire series of mess in New York, my flight through Baffin and coping with ignorant half-arsed denizens of various places. But then, I need them. At least part of them.

Me and myself, with a good book and being under influence of the medication. No alternative? Not yet. It doesn't hurt anymore. It doesn't. And I feel good, perfectly.

I feel good.

...end of the entry...
...datapad turned to sleep mode...

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