So I've been promoted! Kinda. The guy who was in charge, Snow, killed himself. I didn't know him so well, being new to the job, but he was a hell of a nice guy. Guess that was the problem; good people can't really live this life. All our bridges are burnt, we're just constantly helping a god that we don't understand, fighting against people who don't deserve to be fought against. And it isn't like there's a way out-even if someone like Med makes a cure, we've still done what we did. So it's no surprise that suicides are apparently saddeningly common. It still hits hard, though, knowing that the guy who cooked dinner yesterday hung himself, that he decided death was better than living like this.
Fuck, this is depressing.
Meanwhile, life carries on. Because God forbid we have time for something like a funeral, anything like that, fuck no. A shallow, unmarked grave. Not what he deserved. But I've been kept busy, making sure the loss doesn't show. Lots of standing round in alleys, making sure he can catch a glimpse of me before backing out of sight. Smoke and mirrors, seeming omnipresent, keeping that pressure on. It's too early to get me to do this- not long ago I was living in fear of the proxies, and now I'm visiting that fear on someone else. Ironic, I think.
So that's my life, hope you guys out there are doing better. Because if you aren't, that's a fucking tragedy.