How To Survive In A Dump: The Diary of Mr. Thaddeus

Another Day at Some Time

I have lost track of time, and it appears that what I would have used to know the days, times and seasons is not effective like it once was. It is my own inclination that this contraption has indeed lost its capability to function well; and so, has left me in somewhat of a dire straight. Seeing how I can no longer write down dates and times. I would guess that it is somewhere near the time of trees and their suspended death. I would not know as my mind and these symptoms that some may call emotions seem to have affected me in some strange way. It is for the first time that I have felt wetness upon my face when such a thing is unheard of with those such as I. A peculiar feeling. And it seems to only flourish in times where I see this young fellow. 

I have in a few moments stopped myself from allowing such thoughts of taking a mans life. As I do have the necessary finances to invest in the proper disposal of his body without the likes of values preventing such a meager endeavor with my own hands. It indeed is very plausible that one swift cut of this man's neck who just so happened to send my own kin to their untimely demise would deserve such an affair. However, it would only mean that I have also done that which is even less common among the peasants who are under my care. And I would be known as a creature like that of whom exists beyond these walls. And to even begin to have such filth as this mans own bodily fluid upon my apparel, these fresh pirate attires that I do so love would be an embarrassment for us with a reputation such as mine.

Instead of involving one such as myself in such an apparently foolish undertaking I found myself upon the deck, carefully examining the wide ocean and the wood upon where I stand now. Just imagine your King. Standing upon a beautiful ship with many at his disposal. Such a wonder some artists could only dream of creating such a portrait. It all in a all might be too difficult for your mind to grasp dear reader as this perchance, be beyond your comprehension. Not far behind me are the whimsical chefs that my ancient ancestors have employed. Although rough looking they do bear a certain resemblance to those who often create many beautiful concoctions within my own humble abode. 

It is quite fascinating to know what those who would live upon this great blue abyss would find time to eat such delectable meals in their times here. An interesting proposal. It would be to speak to my elder relations about the future possibility of this young man who inevitably would rid the world of my own kin. However, I suppose it would be quite a deterrence, possibly against my own future birth if my kin knew of my existence before conception. It may mean natural occurrences could not occur and your excellency could not be born.

Upon further inspection it comes to my realization that in order for my own parents to exist amongst my own timeline it would be to my own pleasure to make waste of this man myself. And I wonder. Is this the very reason for why my own person has been placed so far in the distant past? Could it be that I was only fated to kill this dishonorable young lad? No, it cannot be. For this to even ring true it would have been a much latter or should I say earlier time as this young lad does not appear to be the one who took my blood relation. Come to think of it, it would have been a much younger son or the later that had done such a horrific deed.

 It would seem if my calculations were correct that this man, although similar in appearance could all in all be the ancestor of the rat descendant that shortened my own parents' life. It would be a pity if some person were to run him through and cast him into the shadows or better yet, into the bluish hue where great beasts prowled the speckled waters. Indeed, that would be a dream and for him a nightmare. And yet, it is not for me to decide the fate of this man. Unless it were by the hands of another for I shall not place my hands upon the head of such a creature and sully my own name.

 Again, if you have not indeed paid witness to my most illustrious penmanship you may not understand the intricacies of something so complicated. However, it may be plausible that I instead cause this mans health to take a turn for the worst. If he were to accidentally fall into the ocean by my hands in this one moment of satisfying pleasure. It would not seem that any man in my present time would know of my exploits as they are far ahead into the future. And it would not be an issue upon my person if no person saw under the cover of darkness. His death would be the oceans doing and not my own. What a delightful thought indeed!

It is upon further investigation that I do notice something of quite a peculiar sight. One that I have learned of in my earlier times in the orient. It is a specific form of fish that is known to be poisonous but not quite known to be in these parts of the world. Even by sea it should not have been acquired. And still, this is another time and from consistent research, it has been acknowledged from minds and the people from that time that they have over fished certain delicacies which would have increased an enormous amount of lack in variety. So yes, it should not be surprising in the least that these creatures have mysteriously disappeared. I would say somewhat like the trees that I have used for the buggies. It was once said that these same fish once dead would become the trees those natives hold dear. If they are planted in spots most ripe. An interesting proposition.