Going forward.

I've been woolgathering.  Thinking about old friends, friends who may or may not exist, family that shouldn't. I spent three months in a psychiatric institution to find out when I got out that it had only been about a month. Time itself has started to lose any meaning, and that's more frightening than it should be. I've survived thus far, but I don't know how much I have left. I never do. I grow weary of running constantly. So very, very weary.

I'm going to try to talk about my family, my friends, but that'll be some time away. I need to take a little bit and try to recover. Going to find a place to hole up again for a week or so.

Wish me luck.

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A Belated Introduction (One of Three)

There are a lot of things I don't understand about this place. About the universe as a whole, and my place in it. The fact that I'm even thinking about this, thinking about it now, or really, ever, should put a few other things into perspective. I'm homeless, pushed to the brink of existence, and I don't even really want to fucking be here. But it's not like I have a choice in the matter at all anyway. Looking back on things, I haven't had a choice in what I do, or where I go, in at least a year and a half. I should have seen that when Nick went missing. But I was blinded by other things, and now I've really fucked things up.

But you know what? I'm done running from the past, from the things that my family has brought down upon me. I'm done lurking in the shadows while the Traitor openly flaunts his abilities. He should be dead, and goddamn it, I'll fix that hole in reality when I have him in my hands. For now, however, an introduction, so you can finally get to know me, the me who has been writing in this blog for over a year now, the me who has been hunting and hunted for almost a year.

Hello. My name is Jackson Toth.

Now, this is where it's going to start sounding strange. My name, the one on my birth certificate, is Jackson Peter Toth. But I've been living as John Morgan for almost six months now. I've felt like I had to. It's kept me one or two steps ahead of those who would chase me, and it's kept me alive. But I can feel it. I can feel the protection running out. So here, I cast away the glamour and stop hiding.

I have two sets of memories. There's really no way to break that easily. I've been here long enough that I can remember, vividly, two different childhoods. When terrorists attacked New York City ten years ago, I remember being in two different places, two different schools. Never in my life (or lives) have I only had one set of memories. And yet, even considering that, it still gets stranger. I have a brother, Nicholas Toth. Or, had a brother. I'm not sure. He may have been dead for a little over a year now, despite his posting on this very blog. (Which I'm not sure should exist, to be honest.) Even still, that brother only appears in one set of my memories. In the other, which, remember, is just as clear and "true" as the other set, he never existed, and I was an only child.

I'm not sure how this works. I just don't fucking get it. And I don't really want to.

...this cannot be happening.

After all this time? I lost the fucking thing?

Goddamnit. This casts a whole layer of doubt on everything I've had to deal with over the past year. Six months. Two years. Whatever it's been. I can't trust anything I see anymore.

Fine. I've waited this long to try to tell my story, and I've got nothing at all. So there will be answers, and they'll be coming soon. I've only waited this long to mention it because I'm doing the best I can to stay away from that tall bastard. I'm just not ready to deal with him just yet.

Until the next time,

Jackson Toth

As a Form of Answer

peekaboo

youwillnotfindme

you will not find me
you will not find me
you will not find me
you will not find me
you will not find me
you will not find me
you will not find me
you will not find me
you will not find me
YOU WILL NOT FIND ME
YOU WILL NOT FIND ME
YOU WILL NOT FIND ME
YOU WILL NOT FIND ME
YOU WILL NOT FIND ME
YOU WILL NOT FIND ME
YOU WILL NOT FIND ME
YOU WILL NOT FIND ME
YOU WILL NOT FIND ME
YOU WILL NOT FIND ME
YOU WILL NOT FIND ME
YOU WILL NOT FIND ME
YOU WILL NOT FIND ME

November

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I'm done.

I'm sorry, everyone, but the time has come for me to disappear. This time, it's planned, so I can at least let you know why.

I'm hunting him down. I'm tired of running from that bastard Xerxes, especially after what I learned about him. I can't do this anymore, so I'm not going to.

I'm coming for you, you bastard. You took my brother away from me, you tried to take me down too. And you did it all on the orders of that fucking monster. Well, you played your hand, and you're on your own now. You think he'll save you? Because I know he won't. I saw what happened when your back was turned.

You're dead, Xerxes. The only difference is whether I catch you first, or our mutual tall friend does.

See you around.

This is not possible.

There is no way that the date can be right, and yet, there it is. October 16th. It's really been two months since I posted here last. And yet, here I was, thinking that it was almost four. I don't get it, but then again, I lived through some bizarre things. And I kept a record. It's going to take time and effort to get it together, but I'll do what I can. I think things have gone far worse than I'd ever intended.

Two days of searching.

Still nothing. Jackson did leave his camera in his car, though, and I did take some video, but there's a problem. First, there's nothing of interest around here. I've seen where he filmed, but I found nothing. The other problem is that my voice doesn't...record properly. I damn near went deaf when I played back a short recording with me talking over the camera. The same when I try to film myself. The camera goes haywire.

I'm really not supposed to be here, am I?

I would stumble into this 'verse and not know what day it is.

I suppose I'll wait until Monday for Jackson to show back up. Or his roommate. For fuck's sake, anyone.

Awakening.

It's like I only have a few minutes at a time to be here, and most of the time I'm not actually "here" in so many words, I'm, well... I feel like an echo on the surface of the deep.

But this time, I'm here. I know I am. I'm sitting in front of Jackson's laptop right now, typing this in. I have been for hours. This place...this place is deserted. He's gone, his roommate and her child are gone, and it looks like it's been this way for weeks. The kitchen is caked with dust, the fridge has only a little bit of food in it, and it's long since spoiled. Though, I suppose that doesn't matter to me. I haven't eaten in months. Haven't wanted or needed to.

And yet the laptop is on. Looks like it's been used recently, but that doesn't make sense. Nothing makes sense anymore. I don't understand what's going on here. If Jackson or his roommate don't come back by the morning, and if I'm still here to take action, I'll call the landlord and find out what's going on.

This is too much, even for me.

riding the rails

escape

dialtone

Rereading some of the older posts, trying to figure out what's going on, and the one thing that bothers me about them? Nick lied. In the manuscript he was writing. Maybe he was just trying to hide his identity ("Mike"? Really? As if I didn't know that's your middle name), but there was a big deal about things.

Our parents died in 2009, not 2004, as bystanders in a car wreck. They were eating lunch in a diner when a largish truck plowed through. They were killed instantly, along with around five or six others, including the driver.

Shit like that bothers me.

Edit: Also, I'm getting annoyed with the changes to my profile. It won't let me change my picture back to what it was when I first started, but I think I can redo the background so it's not so blinding.

Rain.

Re: laughing

Ugh. Woke up this morning to a notice in my email saying that I have a video response, and sure enough, that's it. Hopefully people can see it now. It's...well, it's creepy. And quite frankly, it pisses me off.

laughing

What the fuck even is this shit anymore.

This was blank. But...but he did give me something.

laughing

I don't know what it means, and for some reason I can't actually embed it, but...I guess you'll just have to watch it. The email said he sent it to someone else. I don't know who. I hope they can see it.