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There is solace in the solitude, but it's aggravating to think that someone could possibly find me, especially when I don't know where I am myself. I have concluded that it's one of the Great Lake states, but is it Ohio or Indiana? It doesn't matter though, as long as no one comes to pester me. I'd make them think twice about doing so if they tried.
I have also deduced that I am on the outskirts of a city. The house that I am renting is two stories, but small; almost cozy. I only wish I had use for the second floor, but everything I need is downstairs. This house was prime real estate for me. It's a half block away from a convenient store that conveniently never closes. After my nightly run to buy a pack of smokes, I lay down on the couch. From here, I can hear the street outside spring to life in the morning and continue on throughout the day. For the last eight years of my life, I have been roaming the earth, learning how to survive on very little. Because of this I don't have much, but what I do have is very special to me. Out of it all, the possessions on my desk are the most prized: my laptop, my coffee mug, and my ashtray. To some this may seem mediocre, but to me this is a good life.
My name is Edward Winston Sands. I'm a thirty-one year old American born male. I'm six foot, three inches tall and about one hundred and ninety pounds. I've got a mess of light brown hair, stunning blue eyes, and currently need a shave badly, but I've been too busy to bother. I received a Bachelors of Arts from Haddocks College in New York for English, not to mention an addiction to coffee. Some would like to believe that college also gave me my cravings for nicotine, but I like to blame Morgana. Of course, then there was Vasquez, so who's to say who's truly at fault?
Tonight, I can't help but think of her. Bloody fucking Christ, she'd be laughing hysterically right now. She'd see this little house in a little town and think it's a shithole. She'd be amused at the fact that I'm finally settling down and trying to do something with my life. It's the thought of her that hasn't allowed me to keep my head straight lately. If not her, though, it might be the fact that my life is a contradiction of who I am.
You see, dear reader, I am the living emissary of the antithetical, the ambassador of discordia, the avatar of Chaos. If you tried to stop me, you'd be wasting your time. If I were to die another would take my place, just as I did for my predecessor; he lived to be almost eighty-two years old before finally kicking the bucket. I can't say I have any specific duties or responsibilities, but there is a reason for my existence, I assure you. However, if there is one thing you must know about me, it would be the simple fact that I am not you. Though sometimes I try to be a mediator much like you might, what I am in reality transcends anything you could hope to become.
I am a Kaote.
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Hope it's enjoyable, at least....
rating: 1
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