August 12, 2020

Today I thought about that dream of me in the coffin. It still bothers me. I've had strange dreams before, I've made art inspired by dreams when I was in Berlin. But that funeral dream disturbed me in so many ways I cannot describe. Every idling thought is about that dream. I keep trying to distract myself but for any second I am not busy I can hear the music, the eulogies, the crying. It doesn't help knowing that my blood test came out fine, but my wrists are darker. I put my hand under a strong light, and I could see it.

Black. Darkness coursing in my fucking veins. Eliza put me in this damn box for this very reason. I don't feel anything despite this infection. When Nienke came to visit, she saw my little test. She saw it. She immediately went through the decontamination chamber and into my room, then grabbed my wrist with the light pressed up on it. I could hear her mutter something in Dutch, I picked up the word "god" in her little mumble. She ran out and came back in with Mira and took a sample from my wrist. The blood was way darker than normal. They did the analysis right then and there in my box, using the lab equipment they sent me to occupy myself with research. Whatever it was, it wasn't sprawl in my blood. It was indeed something they had never seen before. They fed the dark blood a sample of plant fiber, and suddenly the fiber faded to dark. It's contagious.

I couldn't believe it. WE couldn't believe it. It spread like bacteria. They did all sorts of tests on me, they made me cough into a petri dish, they swabbed my mouth and nose and had me give them a fucking urine sample. Once again, I must thank whoever designed this chamber to have a walled bathroom. Back to the matter at hand, everything came out negative. It wasn't contagious in the air or in fluid, but they took another blood sample and ran a test on a mouse. It spreads from contact with infected blood. That should be easy to avoid spreading to others. If this alien virus is barely contagious, it must be weak, and that means it can be beaten, right?

August 13, 2020

It's worse than it seems.

This morning after breakfast I felt a sudden urge to vomit. My stomach hurt so fucking much I felt like I was being slashed by that thing again. Before I could even make it to the bathroom, I puked all over the door. Then suddenly my airways shut. I wasn't able to breathe, I was grasping at my neck, fighting myself for air. Once again Nienke and Mira, and this time Doc as well came running in I assume. All I remember was waking up on the floor heaving and weak. I felt like I was chained to the floor with how weak I was. My vision was blurry, but I remember that puddle of vomit. It was black like tar. I felt the adrenaline rush and assumed they shot an EpiPen into me. I saw them all for a moment, but again my vision began to fade, and I fell back into a trance. I can imagine what was going through their minds watching me pop in and out of consciousness. I swear, I think Nienke was crying. When I woke up after all of the shit that happened, her eyes were red, and her cheeks were moist. I could tell, they were glistening in the light of the room.

I didn't say anything unless I had to for the whole day. I just lie there in bed doodling on this journal. My breath smelled like crude oil even after I brushed my teeth. I'm the only one in this world with an alien virus and I might just die from it. For the past few hours, I've been thinking about that. I might kick the bucket in my mid 30's, having never experienced all of this world's beauty. The chimera came into my life and pierced my chest and is ripping at my heart and soul. I know I know, chaos is my home, I'm sure everyone knows that's my slogan, but what is this disease? How do I control this? This is nothing like what I've seen in my life. It's alien, literally. How am I supposed to handle this? I am being pulled to death's door by this thing and I don't know how to fight it. For once, I am scared.

August 14, 2020

I woke up feeling sick, but otherwise fine. No vomiting tar, no fainting or anaphylaxis. But I feel ill in other ways. I twitch, I flinch at slight noises and squint even at dim lights. Iana diagnosed it as Hyperesthesia. I could tell she was stressed, unfortunately albinism made her hair white so I couldn't go off of that. Her foot was tapping constantly even when she tried to hide it. I feel so bad for her. I can see myself through her eyes. Imagine seeing a comrade in a quarantine room rotting from an alien virus with your very eyes. I can't blame her for being so scared. Rainbow has never lost an operator before, but I might be the first.

I don't know how to feel about my mortality. I've been used to bullets flying over my head, I'm used to planting a defuser in the middle of a firefight and I am most certainly used to arguing with others over operational plans. But this, it just feels different. Why is it now that I'm so fearful for my life? I think I just need a breather, I'm working myself up with all this.

Three hours since the last paragraph, I began working on a self-portrait. Of all the things I've made during my run as an artist, I never made a self-portrait. It feels weird painting my own face while someone is watching, that someone being Iana. She's been here for a while now just monitoring my vitals for any patterns. Because I don't have any painting utensils, I'm making the most out of my pencils and a bunch of paper sheets taped together and stuck to the glass wall. At least I still remember my skills, I think I did a good job. It's my face, looking forwards towards me but angled off to the side. For anyone who doesn't know art terms, it's a 3/4ths pose.

August 15, 2020

When I woke up this morning, I saw Iana outside again, watching my vitals but doing some analysis of the bacteria...virus thing. But when I when I got out of my bathroom, my portrait was staring at me.

Yes, it's a self-portrait, it's supposed to be looking towards the viewer, but the pupils were not in the same place as they were yesterday. They moved. The eyes were looking straight at me despite me being at an angle from it. I was petrified. I could only wonder what the fuck had happened. It was so wrong, that stare was so wrong, so horrible and utterly terrifying. From Iana asked me what was wrong, but I didn't answer. I retreated back to the bathroom and hid in there. I don't have anxiety, I can hold eye contact just fine, but that drawing was staring at me unblinking. It defied reality, all that I knew about the world was shaking apart from that stare. Graphite doesn't just move like that, it shouldn't be doing that. That's why I was so scared.

When I got out after hiding for 15 minutes, those pupils were back to normal. Iana asked me what happened, and I told her. I didn't realize that I just admitted I was going insane. Iana became stressed all over again. She said she needed to report this to the rest of R&D. Fuck me, I'm going to have my own paparazzi now.

August 16, 2020

It's talking to me.