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        "slug": "al-qaeda-net",
        "sequence": "02",
        "title": "Al Qaeda Net",
        "subtitle": "Journal of a So-Called Terrorist",
        "source_designation": "Al Qaeda Net: Journal of a So-Called Terrorist",
        "period": "2004–2005",
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    "text": "54\nJanuary 2005 CE\nJournal Entry\nJanuary 29th\n6005 AL\nWhat if I am just a small section of an end track of a\nmassive digestive system. What if that was all I\nam... What if every thing I experience is imaginary I\nam just Gods \"A$$ hole\". God in that case being an\neating breathing organic creature, and all humanity\nbeing cells that make up a single being. Just a\nthought I had once somewhere between a dream, a\nnightmare, and a vision.\nI guess I would just continue to exist as I was\nprogrammed to exist.\nMy entire life can be summed up to an incredibly\nsharp Cutco knife that has \"Remember\" engraved\ninto it and an idea that if their are Gods they are\nChildren to the universe. That no objective is out or\nreach and no idea is impossible.\nJournal Entry\nJanuary 26th\n6005 AL\nToday in Gary Indiana I saw Graffiti that said\n\"Jesus Saves\". I don't know what to make of it.\nJournal Entry\nJanuary 24th\n6005 AL\nIn my unconscious state I stumbled threw dreams I\nhad forgotten I had. Dreams of lost love that ended\nbittersweet. Dreams of betrayal, dreams of love and\nlies. Times that I played the fool and ended up alone\nand broken. There in the field alone, when you\npromised to meet me... There where I stood all\nalone waiting and you never came. Your absence\n55\nhurt the worst but that pain was bittersweet. As if\nthe pain is all I was able to truly feel. I have never\nbeen more then a phone call away. You never\ncalled, at least not to say hi. In my dream you were\nwading in a pool with your family. You looked into\nmy hurt eyes and said, \"I can't handle you in large\namounts, that is why I didn't show up\". I excepted\nthat. Some things are better as dreams, as memories,\nin this bittersweet reality.\nAll of this a stone throw away from the fortress my\nfriends and I had built in forest for hell of it, for\nshelter, and for protection.\nAll of this and the static buzzes and sparkles in the\nbackground like demons that are angels under dark\norders with no choice but to listen. I have my\norders, you have your orders, those above you have\ntheir orders, those in charge have their orders\nhanded down from the collective. The collective has\nits orders, handed down from genetic code and\nenvironmental factors, all of that is controlled by\npast environmental factors that built the code that\nnow controls the worlds evolution into\nmachinehood.\nYou are my greener pastures, beside the weeping\nwillows in the valley of existence, in the spring time\nof my life... All-ways love, and in the background\nstatic and fear.\nThe universe dances around us to tribal beat as we\nare herald threw oblivion toured our impending\ndoom. As if any of it matters. So let us live by fairy\ntales where every life has meaning, we all have the\nability to be immortal, We all reach enlightenment,\nand eventually we will all find peace within\nourselves and within our place in the universe.\n",
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