One

It isn’t that hard to track someone down, after they let a few key details slip. They mentioned Washington, looking for a Motel 6, and trying to follow routes that would hit campgrounds as they headed South. If you spend about five hours cross-referencing all that information after someone starts talking about seeing you die in a dream, you can find practically anyone.

We’re patching ourselves up after that fight and getting the formal introductions out of the way. I could guess who was who, after reading this blog, but I wound up underestimating them a bit. That was stupid of me, and I sure as hell know better for next time.

Curtis deciphered my name without even trying, after I introduced myself as ‘DM’ for short – he was like, “DM? The one who was commenting on my blog?” and then he got all analytical. Started breaking it down into parts, and when I asked why, he told me he was bothered by not knowing people’s real names. That, and he seemed to like the guesswork.

Blair was on the opposite end, s/he seemed to get WHY I didn’t want that information out there. I’d tracked them down with those little info slips, after all, so it stands to reason someone might be able to track me too if my name ever gets out there. Luckily Curtis agreed not to share that with the world, so…thanks for that, Curt, if you go back and read this.

The cops are gone by now, and we agreed that after that attack we should stick together long enough to determine whether or not anyone else would be coming for us. I’m not used to traveling with anyone else, so I’m visibly not comfortable with the whole ‘us’ thing, but I figure I don’t have a choice. Those dreams Blair’s been having are obviously under The Vision’s influence, and if I’m dying in them, I want to know why. Especially since I know for a fact that I haven’t done anything to piss of the Archive. Clearly, that’s all Curtis.

I just need to know why I’m involved.

That came out wrong, writing that. I’m making an honest effort not to be a heartless bitch. It’s how I’ve been for such a long time that I started to worry I was becoming numb, and I do mean that in the Cold Boy sense. That was when I started trying to reach out to other people in any way I could. I’ve just never done it face-to-face, and I’m not sure how to go about it anymore. I’ve barely even TALKED to another person for three years.

Come to think of it, I’m a miracle I haven’t heard any singing or poetry, after all this time.

And look at me. Starting to spill my guts to the Internet like it’s my own personal diary. This is exactly why I’ve fought every compulsion to start a blog, since it all started. Commenting on people’s blogs and trying to give advice is one thing, it’s a whole other thing to start blogging about my problems, myself.

I’m cutting myself off before this starts feeling natural.

Dispute Against Madness