Journal Entry One
Dear Whoever, I'm writing in the bullshit pages of this journal because the doctor said I should keep progress of how I'm doing. Apparently the brain is like a computer and it can be rewired as he sees fit and he's decided to wake up my brain. I don't know who it is exactly that's going to read this at the end of the day but whoever you are, keep in mind that my entries might be simplistic as hell. I'm not going to waste time trying to be so damn detailed about every little thing. If I feel good I'll say so; if I feel like shit I'll write that down too. At the moment I feel okay.
The doctor also said I should keep track of my eating habits but I'm not about to do that every damn day so here goes: I'm a thin bastard with the appetite of a fat bastard.
As for personality? I'm the nicest asshole you'll ever meet.
Appearance? I have a humble opinion of myself; whether that's due to my broken mentality is something I don't know. What I do know is that I think I'm okay looking, not too pretty but not some ugly fucker either. I have silver hair and dark eyes, nothing special. You might think that's a sure sign that I have low self esteem but I'd like to see it as a sure sign that I'm not some conceited bastard.
I'm starting to feel bored with this. I think I'll end today's entry with that. Catch you later.
Response: You don't seem happy. You come across as belligerent in your writing. The doctor said you were a quiet patient but look at how you express yourself in this journal. I guess it would be pretty unusual if the medicine worked the first day you took it. I think it would be dangerous for you to be left alone so I've sent in a request for you to have a Souldier.