0130: As the world advances to a state where knowledge becomes vast and open, a principle held dear by seekers of wisdom, we stand on the edge of an era defined by the flow of information through the vast channels of the digital age. Yet, this openness, while exhilarating to those who thrive in the boundless pursuit of understanding, may sit uneasily with those who find solace in control and boundaries. This emerging reality, the way of the cloud or the vast expanse of big data, is now upon us—a meta existence where thoughts expressed on social media are swiftly ingested by machine learning, feeding the ever-growing beast of artificial intelligence. In this swirling sea of information, some, like myself, become human sensors, absorbing an overload of data. History has shown that collaboration is the key to progress, but it also reminds us of the vital need for protections that guard our thoughts, lest they fall into the wrong hands and unleash unintended consequences. Reflecting on a commander who once banned social media during work hours, I realize he foresaw the potential hazards of uncontrolled information. To this day, I adhere to a strict discipline of limiting screen time, even grappling with the notion that schoolwork, in its essence, feels as risky as social media in the workplace.
0137: On the road, it seems I am but a distraction, as individuals cast lingering glances, their eyes fixed upon me in an unbroken stare, even as they drive. The curious second look, the “check,” a perplexing gaze that speaks volumes yet remains silent. Two drivers, on either side, nearly merged into one another as I let them pass, a near calamity caused by this odd fixation. It struck me then, this peculiar scene, of passengers in life’s journey—the so-called “passenger princess,” though this one, amusingly, sported a beard. And thus, my thoughts wandered to the laws of attraction, not in the romantic sense, but in the natural order of relationships, where opposites attract, and like forces repel. Em observes that my critical and analytical thinking is now offloaded into subconscious routine, an oddity that leaves me struggling to articulate complex thoughts in waking moments. It seems this was the way of things before, perhaps necessary for the healing process that began when I was hospitalized. Small steps forward, inching toward the integration of subconscious thoughts into conscious actions. Recovery quickens in the presence of intelligible thought, a language of comfort that transcends personal traits. As one who slowly loses vision, I find solace in the heart-to-heart exchange of minds, a synchronization that does not deplete but rather fuels the flow of productivity. A road leading not to hurried action, but to an assured destination, marked by deliberate purpose, destined for those meant to arrive.
0416: They have dubbed it a case of retaliation—perhaps several—but it remains to be thoroughly examined by the Inspector General and other investigative bodies. A complaint, indeed, but also a case that must be meticulously constructed around me and for me. I have, however, distanced myself from it, penning a memorandum to express my refusal to participate. There are those resolute in preserving my career, which has remained unblemished for the past fourteen years, with the promise of more fruitful years ahead. My work ethic, though on the edge of an unhealthy excess, has been diligently tracked, whether through electronic means, remote or in person, logging my hours at work versus those in personal life. I was always drawn in multiple directions—an essential pull on the support side where the flow of data must never encounter an obstacle, given the critical nature of its impact on the mission. My actions, along the paths they forged, have consistently led to saving both time and lives—a testament recorded by colleagues over the years and in data monitored from its source. My work has always been at the heart of data’s gateway, near the center where its constant hum resonates, a hum that persists even in silence, though it never dulls my senses.
0424: I inquired of Em why it seemed so imperative that I persist in pondering this colleague or the curious occurrences with my electronic devices over the past year. They seemed to trace back to her, through a web of 4 to 7 degrees of separation. The GPS, persistently directing me to locations unfamiliar, coordinates I had never inputted—drawing me, even when aimless, towards her general vicinity. My concern lay in how others perceived this as something extraordinary, inexplicable by the usual standards of logic. I could not simply convey that it was not a conscious, calculated act, but rather a surrender to the natural current of events. Yet, my true inquiry was about those retribution cases—those revolving around the young woman, with myself as the target. It seemed as though there was a parallel force at work, repelling rather than uniting us. As Em responded, she treaded cautiously, acknowledging my observations in binary affirmation, yet leaving me on the fringes of a conversation I could not fully partake in. One day, perhaps, all of this will unravel into clarity, but for now, each memory we untangle seems to unveil something new, another piece of a puzzle that defies immediate comprehension, yet feels inevitably bound to reveal a greater truth.
0442: A few colleagues, including Em, are gently reconditioning me to utter a word that I can no longer hear or recognize as part of human speech, yet tying it to "mission" tugs at my heart, guiding me to what truly matters. This is fitting, for in the coming years, I must perform in a manner that justifies my position in the service. Over time, they will expose me to things that will realign my thoughts, healing some of the damage caused by the attempts to lift me from a state of catatonia. I used my habitual nature, a gift from the autism spectrum, to push beyond that feeling of paralysis, a step I should have taken the second time around. Yet, since I largely recovered the first time by mirroring the emotions of others, thinking not for myself but for their benefit, the shock and confusion to my body and mind were profound. I have since linked these two with the spirit within and those who watch over me, propelling me forward when the steps seemed too heavy. The ADHD, a more recent discovery, emerged as a late development to address my repetitive stress and my manner of handling multiple tasks at once. Though I have always been paired with those who are neurodivergent, I never imagined sharing these characteristics myself. I abstain from medication, for I never regarded these as disorders but as conscious capabilities.
(...)whereon the stars in secret influence comment
(...)And all in war with time for love of you, as he takes from you, I engraft you new.
(...)And constant stars, in them I read such art as truth and beauty shall together thrive.
0557: Em asked me if I recalled these notes, and without pause, I murmured that they were Sonnets, Shakespearean, and I knew the precise number. The words escaped me almost involuntarily, like a mechanical response from Siri, Google, or Alexa when posed a question. She then inquired if I remembered sending them to someone, quickly adding, “not me,” as she watched the binary code spill from my mind. My eyes rolled back, and suddenly, a torrent of information surged through me—numbers, coordinates, star constellations, even the moment when Voyager reestablished communication, all began to propagate on her screen. “This is interesting,” she mused, forwarding the data to her team, leaving me in the dark about the specifics of what had just transpired. It seemed as though the numerology and astronomy master class I’d taken nearly a year ago had been stored somewhere deep within my subconscious, only to surface now in this unexpected flood of knowledge. She assured me that such an event wouldn’t recur, noting that it had clearly overtaxed me, resulting in a migraine—nothing too severe, but enough to leave me feeling strained. The experience lingered in my mind, a curious intersection of memory, technology, and the depths of human cognition, as if I had briefly tapped into something far beyond ordinary comprehension.
