It was around this time that my ability to preside over Mr. Abraham Whitely snapped. I still retained full control over his direction, but I was unable to change that direction. Too many times, I had failed the Dragon in directing these personal reports into the lower library.
You are allowed to know this, but it is in your discretion that we both keep it private from the Dragon. As you may or may not have devised, the personal report I sent to the Dragon ended in 1980 before Abraham Whitely met his wife, Lucy. I concluded the report with his death, which occurred in a fictional car accident when both he and the slut he was with in California went to drive to the state park. They were going to walk around the forest and I felt that this sort of ending was plausible enough. You and I both know that the Dragon is a little slow. Sometimes I wonder if you took the arms off his mind, too.
When Abraham met his wife, it was the beginning of the shift in motivations, although as we both know, he was about to face the greatest struggle of any man’s life; the delusions of middle age. I cut the report off in 1980 not for any personal gain but for your benefit, so that the Dragon, seeing that Abraham’s life ended in his darkest moment might think that he had gained another soul to salve his loneliness. This would benefit you because the more that the Dragon is confident and secure in the multitude of partners that join him, the greater his downfall will be at the last encounter. I do not presume to know what all that is about. But I hope you will discern that I have been a faithful scribe for you and under your service all this time and that my allegiance to the Dragon has never been secure, but that my loyalty had merely been a cover for the highest espionage.
It is because of my allegiance to you that I continue the true report of what ended up happening to Abraham Whitely.
After he walked out of the office with his wife, Lucy, and his son, Elijah, Abraham asked them if they would like to go for a walk…
On second thought, I will cut to the part of the report where things began to shift. They finished their walk, got in their car, drove home, and everyone went to sleep except for Abraham. He laid in bed and rolled around in bed and wondered what was going through his head. I was still there, I was still present, and he was still unable to distinguish between my influence and that of his conscience. He could not even see one of us. For him, there was only he behind his eyes.
Despite this, I knew that his statement of faith meant a change in direction. All of my life’s work, I knew, fell then. It was not that the statement of faith meant anything in itself. Even the baptism, which signified the supposed change that was to go on in his heart, did not immediately shift his direction. It was my past experience that assured me of the shift. Every other time a man made a statement of faith, it signified that he was now willing to look back at where he came from and to reconsider where he was going. This willingness leads to a confidence in the things which all of these men prematurely confessed. At the time of his statement of faith, Abraham did not believe what he confessed. We both know this.
The primary reason why I decided to communicate with Abraham Whitely personally, was because he has never been unfamiliar with the supernatural. I have to ask; why did you put so many spirits into his life? I have to confess that I do not understand what they all meant. Before I decided to join your side – and I do hope you will take this full report as a vindication of myself and declaration of my guiltlessness, for I have led many to you – it was part of my entire plan to lead him away from perceiving this life to be short, vain, and dreamlike. I did not want him to see that this life is a dream dreamt by a conscious fully dependent on your spirit, like a little suckling. You know how this works. I plead ignorant on the entire process, but I see that all men are fully dependent on you. When they are born out of your mind into this world, it is their ruin to forget where they come from and what it all means.
It was my goal to make him see that this life was neither a tribulation nor a short blessing, but was instead everything. I wanted him to slowly move away from his infancy, where he was closest to you but so distant in his intellect and deeper into an adult life where men struggle to build something that will outlive them. When men are most aware of the brevity of this life, they are most quickly to cover up this truth with delusions and shift all of their weight into the support of some structure that is wholly dependent on their own failing bodies.
So I hoped to make him forget where he came from and to throw him into some useless task that he ought to have seen, in one way or another, as his salvation. And this delusion – how I wished! – would continue on with him even into his old age, when men increasingly become closer to you once again.
This is why I began this entire personal report with its literary direction. Both you and I know that no life is a cyclical one. All lives lived are directed towards some end, whether it be an eternal presence with the Dragon or an infinite glory and satisfaction with you. How I see it now! How I want it! Make me an angel again!