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I seem to be losing my mind over das bullshit hand of mine... Even after I correctly drain thus useless fluid from mine hand it remains unable to cooperate with my demands... Still unable to do any major movement, still unable to do any minor movement...



Mine hand is useless, It remains as stone would... Thus only exeption being thus if mine hand were stone, it would make a fine weapon... Somthing mine hand cannot do even now...



The only thing keeping me from giving such a useless hand the axe is mine love telling me not to chop it off... She claims she can heal it, but I already see thus it being too late for full recovery... It either heals now or in few days time, or none ever at all...

Tonight I find mineself in a bathroom in which the echoes of the mind are vivid and kingly while the voices of the body are dull and pauper-like.... All is quiet and still, all but the un-commandable breath that is asound such while I drain thus puss and blood from mine hand...



It hardly hurts compared to such real pain, but dassan such hardly moves like a real hand should move... Thus is why I am here, to fix the problem... Swollen as it may be, the puss and blood clots will be lessened tonight... And I shall gain somwhat operation of my hand again...



I am pleased with my new left-handed skills, It is quite impressive what you can learn once forced upon....

I have just discovered that mine english sucks! Such english was more finely tuned last year more than now... I am very disapointed in such a find, but what am I to do? Perhaps the reason for such bothersome change is thine lack of human contact over thus time I spent alone away from society... I find thus news very stange and it seems I retain myself to a blind stupor rather than learn proper english over the many days of das journey... Thus is bullshit!

Unfortunetly mine computer battered, much is destroyed and I was remaining as such unable to record such of some valuable information thus occurings before time of dissapearing... Hopfully it shall none happen again...



Mine staus remains open and times are occordingly bleak as I find mineself with a broken hand from an insane Brujah assalaint... He found it much enjoyable to stab mine hand and laugh at me, so I found it much enjoyable to stab him in face and laugh at him... Such I really hate das and is clearly a waste of blood, sweat, and tear!



A seemingly desperate situation occurs in which mine love has decided to keep to hers house and wait for me while things grow increasingly more deadly as hunters search for her... Painfully deadly to say least as I do none understand hers logic thinking sometimes...



I find it quite strange she decides to pick a life of killing mine kind just as I decide to pick a life of killing hers kind... Yet we both love each other, it is rather ironic but I would suppose love is stange like das and life would be far less interesting without it...



Always poor and miserable I continue onward... I grow bored...