Chapter Text
My therapist said that it will be good for me to document my life in order to finally understand where lies reality and where – my fantasy. Because due to my work I am starting to lose this edge, or at least it is fading rapidly. Lately I have been through a lot of pressure after all the work as the head theorist at the most secret facility in the U.S. — The Foggy Mind Organisation (FMO). I’m extremely proud of my position here. Yet it is stressful I am ready to do what is required to hide the truth at all costs. After all, the first thing that the workers see as they enter the underground facility is a quote on a marble monolith that states: “The best proof of a conspiracy theory is that nothing can prove it wrong”. This is the main principle in what I do and I have to abide by it constantly, otherwise the illusions that we build might shatter. All of that hard work — gone. I shiver at the very thought of it. That can’t happen! But if I lose the actual truth everything will just cease to exist. I can’t afford it and exactly for this reason I am writing this passage right now.
Outside of work my life is dull and flavourless, almost like a dry ration. Yet, there are some people who make me want to come to work every day and hate the weekends even more than I already do. One of them is my best friend and colleague Chester. He is just over thirty with the most charming and welcoming smile which is a huge advantage for what he does as a speaker who spreads our conspiracies to the public. It is easy to believe his words which is the reason why he holds this position. To be honest, I don't know why I am describing Chester if I know him and see him every day, most probably I am addressing it to my therapist because he does not know a lot about my life so I’m giving him an insight into it. Anyway, Chester is the only person who can keep me from completely losing the reality.
But enough about my best friend, I’m writing this about myself, or at least I should try to concentrate on myself and my life. Yet it’s difficult as I have never put myself at the center of existence. Now I’m spinning around the FMO, my soul purpose in life. And without it I’m nothing. That’s why my therapist said that I should find some hobbies, but I’m lost, as if I don’t even have any interests except for conspiracy theories. I should ask Chester tomorrow what he does when he’s not at work, perhaps he would give me some new ideas. I don’t really know how to end this, but for now I don’t have anything else to say.