I once thought that the world was divided between the gifted and the non-gifted. I obviously count myself among the gifted, and why should I not? Do I not possess a superior IQ of 176 and a body worthy of Tier 1 reproduction status? Being born into wealth and position made it only a matter of course that I attended only the most superior of educational facilities, where my vocation as a State Psychiatrist was determined by the Board of Selection at 14. My adolescence was exceptional only in the fact of our Noble Republic's crushing victory when I was 16. I knew little of our Great Enemy's designs or dogma, imbued rather with the glorious teachings of the Ministry of Education and the need for constant vigilance against the corrupting influence of those deemed non-gifted. My blissful ignorance of the Enemy would soon change however, at my first official posting in our province's Mental and Behavioral Correction Compound. My duties for the duration of the year long post consisted or interviewing certain Counter-Revolutionaries, deemed necessary for posterity of course, and for the good of the unborn children of our State's Glorious Future. The twelve undesirables under my charge, six male, four female, and one pre-pubescent child of each gender, were to be disposed of as a matter of precaution upon the conclusion of my study. The preliminary timetable of cataloguing was ten months from inception to disposal with another two for editing and compiling the data. I cannot honestly say I welcomed the assignment, seeing it only as a test, my inception into the apparatus of the State, a mere stepping stone at best. My subjects did not even exist as people like you or me, rather effigies of a decadent past. Subjects had no names, simply numbers and faces. How can I be blamed for what transpired, for my ignorance, when all of them had ceased to be human, even to themselves?

Day 1 - Preliminary with No. 613774-1

Begin Transcript:

"Hello No. 613774-1, my name is Dr. Williams. I will be conducting a study of you and your fellow subjects over the next ten months at the behest of our Noble Republic. It is in your best interests to answer my questions fully and without reservation. This is being recorded for our State's benefit and that of Holy Father Science, so do please be polite. Shall we proceed?"

.....................

"I asked you a question No. 613774-1, it would behoove you to respond in a timely fashion."

"I have a name Herr Doctor. I would like to be addressed by it."

"You will not be disrespectful during these sessions No. 613774-1, it is inappropriate. Nor do I enjoyed having my title abused."

"I am being respectful, possibly even polite. The term Herr is one of respect in a language known as German, and since this entire setting is so very Kafka-esque, I find it quite applicable to you, Herr Doctor. And ironic, as Kafka isn't known to you. "

"Regardless, I must insist that you address me as Doctor or Dr. Williams."

"And I insist that I be addressed by my real name rather than a number assigned to me. Until then I fear I must continue to address you as such, Herr Doctor."

(Door opening)

"Guard, bring No. 613774-2. This session is concluded."
"Yes Sir."

"Good day Herr Doctor. I enjoyed our chat. Do be nice to No. 613774-2 please. She is my wife."

(Scuffling, a thump, door slamming)

End Transcript

Farewell my Love
you have gone to a place where my soul can't follow;
perhaps there peace may wrap you in her arms
and fill you with a warmth
that I never could.

These reflections of a future that will never be
a mirror into the great perhaps,
such as what you always wanted to find in the end.

I would have followed if you had let me,
would have poured myself into all the fissures in your
beautiful beating heart;
would have burned my own as an offering to you.

I see that I have not the power to take a heart
and by the power of my love
make it whole.

I thank you all the same for allowing me to see
that all we have are memories and choices.
It is the choices that give shape to our souls,
that make meaning of memories.

Such courage for you to have to make a choice
to spare me a greater pain
and for you to suffer alone.

I stand now weeping and empty
alone in the house of roses
and where now I go that your spirit is gone
only the wind knows.

Aujourd'hui, aujourd'hui .....

Est-ce que je n'ai pas se tenir à côté des rives de la rivière, des pleurs l'encre mon stylo doit avoir utilisé sur de simples mots de regret ou de honte ou nostalgie.

Nostalgie d'un baiser de fleurs, n'avez-vous pas témoin moi par écrit la calligraphie dans le sable avec l'écharde de rupture d'une épée?

Aujourd'hui, aujourd'hui .....

Vous avez daigné rendre visite de nouveau dans les petites heures, un lotus dans la vallée Ishii, retourneraient dans gouttes d'incandescence.

N'ai-je pas wince avec une nostalgie pour quelque chose que je peux à peine n'oubliez pas enregistrer dans les rêves et clignote, ce mystère vous écrire?

Aujourd'hui, aujourd'hui .....

Morceaux de papier sont tout ce qui peut rester comme preuve que ce que j'ai connu était quelque chose qui n'existait pas dans la réalité une fois.

Je n'ai pas compte que ces révolutions dans mon coeur sont uniquement l'absence d'avoir quelqu'un près de verser mon amour?

I Love You.....And You Love Me
That Is All that has any worth in this world.

So now, after this war has ended, I know I will never be the person whom you loved once.
You've written so much beauty, doing all you can to save what you believed in.....
This is my hope....my own piece of sorrow, since you have given more of yourself than I ever thought you could when we were together.
Beni Beni my dearest, I've lost who I was when you loved me, yet you still believe, and that....has cost me more sorrow than the children I have thrown to wolves.
How can you still love one such I? After all I have accomplished in the name of equality?
I tried to change our society, I tried to make those old Men wake up and realize that their way;
their way is the wrong way, the way that starving children have grown up with.
And I...was wrong.
You loved me, and I couldn't realize the value of that.
All this time later, I just am  now realizing what you have done for me...the person you have helped me become.
I've hurt you...terribly. And you've deserved someone that has the ability to treat you as a painter could portray you.
I love you ... always have.

I have been reliving the same moments over and over.
I think that if I had been a better man, if I had been able to shed this fake skin I've been wearing for so long.....
Our lives might have been very different.
At the very least, I wouldn't wake up in the mornings....
wondering who you are now.

War is a machine, make no mistake.
Insert money here, and add soldiers there
and in the end
all we receive
is blood and soil.