The never ending dreams. Never ending sorrow. The past laughter, past angers, we were a group. We were a unit. A lost unit in the desert. Wandering around the desert to asserted peace. Robert, Brandon Morris, Kyle, Patrick, Matt, David, Enoch. All these men that once served their fellow country, foolishly perish by a shadow hand. I still not put together, I'm trying experimental methods to access my memories. I will be full and I will spill my past. I will find the answer. I will know what were the fate of my deceased unit.

Who are you disguise as? A Normal, PTD Ex-veteran. Are you still with the cultist? They're not letting you US COMMUNICATION. No Internet, No Phone, NO CONTACT. You isolationists. Happy Halloween

All those eyes, I can see them all over my dreams. Visions of kids pointing at me. Mocking me. I cant be normal. I miss Abigail and Clara. Stolen from me. I'm trying to recover my pieces. I'm a jigsaw man now. I need to be put back together to face the storm.

Hey, I'm still alive. Just relaxing. Taking a breath. Haunted. Those eyes of relief.

Soon. You need talked to your diary about other experiences. It was entertaining. SOFUNNY.

What other clean-up do you need? I'm willing just to see more of my daughter.

Hello. you did wonderful. You Were Great. You Know It was One of YOU. DISGUSTING FILTH OF A MEN. TAINTED BY YOUR LOGICS. WE ARE DISGUSTED BY YOU, butyoudidgood. more to come. Stay active. Continue talking about your past. We like that. makesyouhuman,youfilth.

Sincerly,

US

P.S. Nice clean-up. We expected a mess.