Journal Entry, Harmon Rabb, Jr.
Episode: Guilt (Season 7)
I wonder how many people watch themselves die, knowing it as they do so. You hear stories about 'near death experiences', when people see themselves coding on the operating table, but they live to tell their tales to Geraldo or Montel or Jerry Springer. But what about drawn-out, blow-by-blow awareness of the last days of existence?
That's what I'm doing, as I stand, unable to turn away, watching the coverage from Aceh Province on ZNN. It half feels like I'm viewing a horror movie, trying to tell the actors to 'Run!' or 'Duck!' But they can't hear me, so they continue, oblivious to the moments of gratuitous tension the director has provided before they die. I also feel like one of those same movie actors, sensing the danger, but unable to heed the warning being screamed by the audience.
Ironically, I think the only audience is me. Sturgis, for all the years we've known each other, missed the beginnings of this particular feature and hasn't caught up to the plot in progress. I feel like Bud and Harriet should know, should sense the import of the coverage from Indonesia. The only other person who does seem to understand what I am seeing is the one person who should perhaps turn a blind eye.
The Admiral has made a concerted effort to keep me abreast of the events in Indonesia beyond what ZNN is showing to the general public. His updates are the only thing keeping me sane. Perhaps that's his method -- accept the inevitable, but get as much work out of me as possible until then. God knows the state I'd be in if he wasn't.
I find myself desperate to believe in an afterlife, a chance to at least apologize for chances not taken in life, if not correct them. If this ends the way I fear it will, I will desperately need that opportunity.