Category Archives: Archi’s Diary

Archi’s Diary – Episode 12

Welcome to the next episode of Archi’s Diary, a weekly entry in my favorite amnesiac’s journal as he tries to adjust to a world he doesn’t remember. Now with a proper cover by Patrick Crooker. Go visit his website at  www.crooksandcrafts.com.


Episode 12 – April  2016ARCHISDIARY_CoverArtBlog

Hiding it is!

At least for now. This week was quite uneventful. In fact, it’s been a bit lonely and a bit weird.

On Saturday I had to re-raise my tent in the middle of the night, after it almost got blown away by a storm. I went and obtained some effective means to avoid having to chase down a tent cover at night again. Those rocks now hold down part of it. The only other thing I did was watching the video files over and over again until the battery ran out on the laptop.

That sphere that appeared in the lab is very intriguing. I have a few theories about it, except none of them explain the memory loss, which only make me feel more unhinged:

  • It could be a physical anomaly in space generated by something at the Institute. A type of matter or area of space that is out of sync with the rest of reality. How and why would it cause memory loss? No idea.
  • It could be a portal to another place, that looks exactly like here. Yeah, that also seems off. Unless it’s a time portal and not a space portal, and I’m an earlier/later version of myself. Still doesn’t explain the memory loss.
  • The portal is the result of me sneezing so hard, that it warped the perception of light and there is no actual sphere. Nah…

The next morning I went to the village to see if I could meet some people, but it was almost empty. I just realised it then that it was Sunday. So I spent my day drinking coffee and researching the area on the web while the laptop was charging. I didn’t do much else that day, just returned to the camp afterwards. I had simply too much to deal with. Being alone is difficult, yet sometimes it’s even harder to be around others; I find myself avoiding people lately. Maybe to protect them… from the Institute and from me. I still miss company though, especially Willy’s. Hope this feeling will go away and I won’t feel so lost, once I figured things out. I’m having trouble rationalising all that’s happened. I know I killed in self-defence, it still doesn’t help with the guilt. It feels like I’m both the perpetrator and the victim. Like I deserved it for stepping out of line. I cry a lot these days.

On Monday I ran out of money. I still have a bit of food left, but I need to get a revenue stream going. I could beg for money, but even the local homeless seem unsuccessful at that. Plus, I don’t want to brand myself as a beggar, since it might make it more difficult to find work in the area.

Also Undead Steve visited me in my dreams that night. It was quite vexing. He came out that sphere for a change, as if it was portal from another world or reality, and tried to pull me in with him. First from emptiness, now from the sphere. Please don’t come through the tent door next…

After recovering from that little mind fuck, on Tuesday I decided to stake out the ferry port and spent some time by the ocean. I’ve concluded that the ferry is out of the question. The passport check can’t be bypassed, sneaking in either by car or ninja-style is way too risky. I don’t know anything about their procedures, the layout or even how to get onto ferry itself, so it’s definitely not wise to risk it. Also, who knows what awaits on the other side.

I managed to charge the laptop at a cafe though. I need to explore the files more in-depth later this week and get some freelance work online. I’ll have to worry about the payment methods later. Also, I’m getting very hungry…. Hardly ate anything today. Just a cheap scone (possibly the driest scone ever) with some tea.

On Wednesday I thought someone had found me, but it turned out to be a jogger taking the dog for a walk. Cute little pup. Sniffed my hand, then scrambled to catch up with his owner. Also, and I’m not proud of this, I stole some guy’s wallet at the cafe. He left it on his table after ordering, so as he started rummaging through his bag on the floor, I pocketed it as I left. I shopped for groceries using his card to pay for some minor stuff. I’ll save the cash for later. Might be risky if he blocks the card, but for now it worked.

The next day I decided to stay away from the town. I admit I also didn’t want to show my face at the cafe again, in case someone saw me steal. So I read a bit. Not every day has to have a purpose.

Which brings us to Friday, when I met Kerstin, queen of the forest, out on her morning run. No, she isn’t a queen of any kind, but that’s how she announced her presence when she found my camp and I asked why she was there. She told me it was an ‘April’s Fool’ joke. I’m not sure what that means. Turns out it was her dog I met on Wednesday. She seemed mighty suspicious about me at first, but relaxed when I told her that I was hiking the English coast as a travel project. Then I had to make up a complicated story to make that little white lie believable, since she wouldn’t let up with the questions. It was nice to talk to someone outside the usual customer setting at the cafe. She stayed for a two hours before resuming her run. I hope to see her again.

I have been here for a week now, nobody seems to be looking for me in or around Folkestone (not that I’ve noticed anyway), I have no way of leaving, very little cash to my name and a new friend who might be crazy but seems harmless enough. Tentatively crossing my fingers that I’m free, starving alone and confused, but free. Really need a plan!


End of episode 12. Share, like and follow for weekly updates. Thank you for reading. In the coming weeks I will be uploading a few extra posts. Stay tuned!

Archi’s Diary – Episode 11

Welcome to the next episode of Archi’s Diary, a weekly entry in my favorite amnesiac’s journal as he tries to adjust to a world he doesn’t remember. Now with a proper cover by Patrick Crooker. Go visit his website at  www.crooksandcrafts.com.


Episode 11 – March 2016ARCHISDIARY_CoverArtBlog

Nothing happened. Last week I killed a man, left a bloody mess behind, travelled across the country by public transportation for three days and nothing happened. No police, no men in dark suits, no foreboding drones circling above, nothing. Nobody even spoke or acknowledged my existence when I broke down crying at one point (not the first time it happened).

I’m trying to focus on getting out and getting my head straight, but it’s hard. I keep seeing blood on my hands and face, even though I washed and checked myself multiple times. I get flashes of Steve’s face at times, and I see Steve screaming, fighting, bleeding and not-moving in my sleep. I see him as a gory corpse. Or as a furious undead. I no longer have that fear inducing emptiness… I see Steve. Last night, undead-nightmare-Steve came out of the emptiness and tried to pull me in. I woke up screaming and must have terrified quite a few nocturnal beasties. When I stopped, the forest was awash with fleeing animals.

4 days ago I made it to Folkestone, a small coastal town with a ferry service to France, and I’ve been camping here ever since. I found a small wooded area North of the town and made a temporary home there since I can’t leave the country. I spent most of my resources on getting a decent tent and a few supplies from a local outdoor store, so at least I don’t have to gamble on the weather or sleep on benches anymore. Also getting here cost me a lot of money, especially because I tried to be as unobtrusive and anonymous I can be. I even got lost once or twice which cost me a heavy fine from a particularly nasty conductress. I will have to make a note of that.

Most days I go into town to leach off a local cafe’s Wi-Fi and find a place to wash up. I have very little left in the way of money or clean clothes, but I’ll have to make due. I can’t afford to look homeless if I want to be taken seriously in any potential job situations. I set up a freelancing profile and a few payment options online, so I can do the majority of my work there, but I don’t really know if I have any bankable skills. And I need a bank account for this to work, which is cumbersome without an ID and a permanent address. I tried to befriend a few baristas locally, which might be of help further down the line, but I’m also afraid to drag anyone else into this mess.

Anyway, 7 days travelling and establishing a camp has made it clear that I need a options and have to plan ahead. If I boil it down to basics, I really only have three options

Turn myself in – I’m still considering this option. I killed a man. In self defence, but still… yet the lack of a manhunt intrigues me. Gruesome murders usually get into the national news or at least the local papers. What if the Institute has covered it up? What if there’s no body, no evidence and that’s why it hasn’t been reported?

Hide – Possible, but I still have no ID, no place to call home and no network to rely on. Even if, and that’s a big if, I manage to land regular work and maintain some kind of existence here, I would be fully dependent on either deceiving the system or on other people for money, and cross my fingers really hard that nobody comes looking for me.

Leave the country – Unlikely, unless I’m smuggled out by unsavory individuals. I would have to either sneak aboard a ferry and not get caught, charter a boat (which might get intercepted or caught on arrival), or maybe swim it, which is a very big NOPE. I’m not swimming across 40 miles of heavily trafficked ocean. Might as well flee via the Eurotunnel on foot. I passed a service facility when I arrived.

I think tonight’s the night to reexamine the files. I need more information on everything. Where the memory stick came from (do I have an ally?), information about Folkestone and what my options are, how to get an ID and most importantly;

I need to decide if I’m going to turn myself in.


End of episode 11. Share, like and follow for weekly updates. Thank you for reading.

Archi’s Diary – Episode 10

Welcome to the next episode of Archi’s Diary, a weekly entry in my favorite amnesiac’s journal as he tries to adjust to a world he doesn’t remember. Still going strong with the placeholder image for now but should change soon.


Episode 10 – March 2016placeholder image

This is so fucked. This is so fucked. This is so fucked.

Steve is dead.

Had to stay a few days more, but when I was leaving he tried to knock me out. I don’t know why, but Inger might ordered it. I guess they were watching me through the smartphone the whole time and my little act was discovered. When I managed to avoid the initial blow, he snapped. Just snapped. You could see it in his eyes. Suddenly I was less than an animal,  a bug to be squashed, when I dared to fight back, when I dared to defy him.

That’s when he came at me, like he was possessed by some demon, all fury and aggression. He pulled a knife from his pocket and cut me again and again. My arms got really badly lacerated, but he was too aggressive for his own good. I managed to dodge a slash at my neck and trip him up. He stabbed himself. The knife was deep in his bicep, blood gushing out. He must have hit an artery, but he didn’t even care. He jerked out the blade, but it was slippery with blood and slipped from his fingers. So I picked it up to defend myself. I don’t recall many details after that but it wasn’t a quick death. He came at me again, but I somehow stabbed him in the stomach and then held him down. He couldn’t use his injured arm, I just held him there until he bled out.

The room got really really quiet. Some time passed as I sat there still holding him, but nobody came to check. None of the neighbours called the police. (Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any neighbours here at any time; just Steve, and the landlord on occasion.) I realised that I had to move, when I noticed that Steve’s door was open. On Willy’s recommendation I read Dexter a few weeks ago and Steve’s room looked just like a murder room described in the book… Was it made for me? I mean, who else would it be for? Sheets of plastic covered the walls, ceiling and floor, bone saw and other instruments of pain in the corner, black sacks prepped. He was planning for the eventuality of murdering me. So I left immediately.

Right now I’m sitting behind the train station, in a small patch of forest, bandaging my arms and writing this. I don’t think I was followed, as I kept to the shadows and side roads to get here, but I can’t be certain. I changed my clothes before leaving, grabbed everything I could. I lost the memory stick, which flew off the table to some hidden dark location during the scuffle and I couldn’t find it again. What do I do now? I need help. But what the hell can I do? Who do I turn to? I have no ID, there is no record of me anywhere. None I know of… Anyone could assume it was my murder room (except I would use lye with a heat source and a bathtub) and arrest me on the spot.

I just hope I made it out in secret. I can’t take this any more, I have to leave and go as far away I can from all the lies… Just go anywhere I can be anonymous and think things through. I did consider telling Willy, but I don’t want to involve him; it might even turn out that he’s is part of this…

Fuck!


End of episode 10. Share, like and follow for weekly updates. Thank you for reading.

Archi’s Diary – Episode 9

Welcome to the next episode of Archi’s Diary, a weekly entry in my favorite amnesiac’s journal as he tries to adjust to a world he doesn’t remember. Still going strong with the placeholder image for now but should change soon.


Episode 9 – March 2016placeholder image

Most of this week I spent in my room faking the flu and making plans. Steve and Inger have been checking up on me daily, but I’ve been able to keep them out. If they watch me through the smartphone, they would only see me covered in blankets, drinking tea, and furiously blowing my nose. The deception seems to have worked well enough. Everything is now packed and ready to go and not a moment too soon. I managed to obtain most of the travel gear I need through a variety of means like borrowing, shopping and stealing, the latter being Steve’s wallet since I’ll need cash. I’m not even going to apologise to Steve, this is the last time he calls me “Anthony”.

As I’m writing this, I’m downloading as much information as I can manage from the database the software agent connects to. Probably a fraction of what’s actually on it, but I don’t have more time. Once the hard-drive is full, I’m gone. I’ve found a treasure trove of transcriptions (mainly interviews and research notes), some schematics and blueprints, deep web tools and resources, and the remaining surveillance videos, which are the main reason I’m leaving right now. Why is all this stuff even on an externally facing database? That doesn’t seem secure. Must make a mental note on that.

Anyway, I’ve re-examined the first video intensely and it’s terrifying. That orb or sphere thing appeared around me and not in front of the camera as I initially thought. When stepping through the video frame by frame, it’s clear that it appears out of nowhere around me. Does that mean I was targeted or was it accidental? I still don’t know what it is. The room itself is very spartan so any guesses to its purpose is futile.

The second video shows Inger running to my aid after the orb evaporates (?) along with the lab personnel coming in left and right. I recognise some of them from my visits. Except on my visits they were friendly, helpful and unarmed; in the video they carried rifles of some kind.

That’s not the reason I’m leaving now though. It’s not even Inger. She seemed frightened, maybe even hysterical about my condition. No, it’s because of Steve. He’s been watching me for months now, following me, spying on me… and in the third video he puts a gun to my unconscious head! It’s a compilation of security footage of me as I was taken from the incident room, past something that looks like a inside-out electromagnet, down various hallways, into the break room from the time lapse video. At this point it’s really just a break room. Steve is there having coffee and looking mighty freaked out. He and Inger appear to be having an intense conversation, when he suddenly pushes her to the floor and puts a gun to my head. To my unconscious and very defenseless head. What is going on? I should be seeking answers, maybe build a life, but I can’t stay here. What happens if he snaps? Snaps again, I should say, since he’s most certainly the reason I “blacked out” a few weeks ago. The video ends with him getting tackled, wrestled to the ground, and summarily disarmed by security.

I feel numb and helpless and ignorant. And very exposed, I need to get out of here. And the list questions just keeps getting longer:

  • What was that orb thing, why did it wipe my memory?
  • Will it come back, will it come for me?
  • Where did this memory stick come from, who gave it to me and why?
  • Why am such I a threat that Steve felt necessary to put a gun to my head even when I was unconscious?

Steve is not in the house now, so this is the perfect time to leave. Everything is unclear except for following: I am Archi. Whatever happened before, whoever I was, that person is gone. I came into being on a hospital bed three months ago. I’m not this Anthony Ames, I’m also not some child, nor a victim. Anthony is just some guy in a video footage who had an accident; maybe he’s a happy memory to some, but he’s just the unknown past to me. Who or what I was is immaterial at this point.

I have a few hours until nightfall, then I’m off. There’s a village a few miles west from here, where I hope I can lay low until morning, then take a bus to the coast. Right now, I’m going to accidentally drop my phone in the toilet. Until it flushes.


End of episode 9. Share, like and follow for weekly updates. Thank you for reading.

Archi’s Diary – Episode 8

Welcome to the next episode of Archi’s Diary, a weekly entry in my favorite amnesiac’s journal as he tries to adjust to a world he doesn’t remember. Still going strong with the placeholder image for now but should change soon.


Episode 8 – March 2016placeholder image

First off, I realise now that the duster was a bad idea. If I need to run, I probably shouldn’t look like a reject from a spaghetti western or a stunt double for a Harry Dresden movie (not that one exists yet, but the world seems to be a bit obsessed with new franchises so I’m not holding my breath). My aim is to blend in, so I traded the duster with Willy for a proper outdoor jacket. It’s blue, for the record. Also started learning a few languages (Spanish, Urdu and Russian) so I can get by, wherever I might end up. Might even become homeless, but it’ll be on my terms. And at least I’ll be able to chat with my fellow transients and beg in the local vernacular.

I do intend to leave. My plan is to take a bus to the nearest railway station and then a direct route out of the country which invariably means a ferry or something. I don’t have a passport, so the airport or the Eurostar are out of the question. Also, I don’t really fancy being trapped in a metal tube going 800 km/h in the sky. I might be inexperienced, but that seems foolish. In an unrelated conversion with Steve he mentioned something about getting killed in a mugging or vaporized by lightning strike being more likely than dying in a plane crash. Sure, but I don’t go looking for any of those. Steve almost exclusively refers to me as Anthony now, and I’ve stopped correcting him. I mean, it really doesn’t matter to me right now, and if it keeps him happy and away from my plans, all the better.

However all this pales to the fact that I broke the password on the memory stick and had my mind thoroughly blown. I got in on my third attempt, using a list of common passwords. The password was “Password1”. Are you serious? That is not security. That’s a child attempting to be clever. If the password is that easy, it’s hardly ‘protected’.

Mind blown – Part one.

And what did I find?

Two video files. I watched both several times yesterday and they’re disturbing. The first one is a 4 minute long video titled ‘Incident_Cam2_1-3.avi’, which I’ll analyse in great detail tonight. It’s unclear what actually happens, but it appears to be a surveillance footage from a laboratory. I couldn’t readily make out the ceiling or side walls, so it must be outside or in a cavernous room. The person in the video is me, and I’m pacing the chamber when a large circular object or hole appears. I can’t tell if it appears around me or in front of the camera, but when it disappears I’m lying lifeless on the floor.

The second video is titled ‘Anthony_Ames_Recovery_Suite_FULL.avi’. It’s a timelapse of my stay in the medical bay with Steve, Inger, and a few other people I don’t recognise, orbiting the gurney while performing medical procedures, or just watching me. Inger really nailed the stand-around-and-observe thing.

This find is really not helping my anxiety. What exactly happened to me? Was that what caused my amnesia? What was that bubble/hole/orb thing? Where did it come from? Can anyone please tell me what’s going on? I feel like I’m getting kicked down the rabbit hole by an unseen boot of circumstance. And is the name in the title my real name?

Other things on the stick;  some sort of software agent that connects to an external database, which I haven’t attempted to use yet. A complete medical record of me, which is also disconcerting to say the least. It refers to monitoring brain patterns for abnormalities, DNA matching and it has a literal confirmation that I am “human”. Human! Why would you need to confirm that? And lastly a David Bowie album.

Mind – seriously – blown – Part two.

I got to go… get away as soon as possible. Clear my head and get some perspective on this mad situation. I still need to get:

  • passport or a replacement of some sort (need to research which nationality is most accepted)
  • a new uncompromised smartphone (or similar device)
  • money, preferably more than one type of currency
  • a weapon of some kind

So the plan for now is to:

  • go over all the information again
  • test the software agent to see if I can get more information
  • find whoever gave me this information in the first place

I need a break!


End of episode 8. Share, like and follow for weekly updates. Thank you for reading.

Archi’s Diary – Episode 7

Welcome to the next episode of Archi’s Diary, a weekly entry in my favorite amnesiac’s journal as he tries to adjust to a world he doesn’t remember. Still going strong with the placeholder image for now but should change soon.


Episode 7 – February 2016placeholder image

Good things are not happening.

I’m thinking about leaving this place very soon, to strike out on my own and get some perspective. I managed to get a proper long coat, a modern duster, and a few travel items that aren’t too conspicuous for Steve to question. I don’t trust him anymore. All the support, the connection we made last week, has evaporated on my side, and any potential trust in Inger has ceased.

 

It started at the dinner last week where Steve and Inger had a few too many glasses of wine and persisted in calling me Anthony. The entire night. Even after I mentioned that it wasn’t my name. I don’t know, maybe it is? I don’t remember. Maybe I am this Anthony person, but if so, why would they tell me differently? They looked saddened, maybe even disappointed, like had I done something wrong when I pointed it out.

After dinner I went out to get some fresh air and to see Willy. We spoke about the memory stick and the associated challenges, diverged into encryption and then human behavior. He mentioned that breakthroughs in code breaking during WWII weren’t just about investigating encryption and applied mathematics, but also into human behavior. People are generally lazy and conceited. Most of the time we do things in a way that requires the least amount of effort, plus we often think no one else thinks like we do. So they made breakthroughs by guessing how soldiers in the field might think and feel and then tested for it.

Note to self: This Bletchley Park place sounds amazing, must go there to learn more.

But before he could continue, Inger and Steve showed up at Willy’s place in the meadows. Not at his home address which is a matter of public record (I mean how many people are named Willy or William in a village of less than 200 hundred people), but at our moon watching spot (it has less light pollution and more favorable weather), and acted as if they were just “happened to be in the area”. They left after a short while but it got me thinking. Am I being followed? What if I’m bugged? What if they put a tracker in one of my molars or under my skin, have my bio-signature on file and designated a satellite to spy on me?

Let’s be rational here. You don’t need some invasive bodily procedure or magic technology to keep track of people. You could just as well use a smartphone. Simple and straightforward. Like ‘Here’s a free toy for Archi, “don’t ever leave home without it”, which begs the question; can they listen in? Are they listening now? I mean, the device is in my bag most of the time, and we usually leave it in the car, so me and Willy have a modicum of privacy; but what about at home? It stays in the bag from now on. This is all so goddamn weird. It feels like the diary entry last week came true. A bit too close for comfort.

Anyway, after Steve and Inger left, we spoke about the prevalence of certain passwords or phrases, patterns that most people think of, that are used for email and social media accounts. How people often use the same password across several different services. Why would you do that? That’s like putting all your digital eggs in one basket and hoping the thief only takes the one. If this is true, then people really are stupid. Or at least conceited. He suggested trying a few of the most commonly used passwords. Apparently there are lists online. Why would a person use a password that is on a list of often used passwords?

In any case, this situation is horrible. I might be watched. I might be someone else, however that works. I feel anxiety all the time and have had a few small panic attacks. I’m scared, and the only person I feel can be trusted I’ve only known for 5 weeks.

I need to leave this place. I need to go. Soon.


End of episode 7. Share, like and follow for weekly updates. Thank you for reading.

Archi’s Diary – Episode 6

Welcome to the next episode of Archi’s Diary, a weekly entry in my favourite amnesiac’s journal as he tries to adjust to a world he doesn’t remember. Still going strong with the placeholder image for now but should change soon.


Episode 6 – February 2016placeholder image

Finally, good things are happening.

Steve has really warmed to me since the whole meltdown/church/coffee kerfuffle. He seems to be in a better mood, is more positive around me and started helping me get adjusted to my new life. He helped me get some maps from bookstore, got me my second  new laptop (don’t ask), synced it to my smartphone and installed some proper software, plus he introduced me to the sweet concept of instant coffee. It’s still a vile beverage when consumed without sugar, but at least it takes the labour out of making it. Oh, funny thing. When he’s really relaxed, he starts calling me Anthony instead of Archi. I haven’t brought it up with him yet. I like the name, but it’s not really me.

I’ve also been thinking about about the future, about what my life should be like. I suppose I could focus on who I was and where I came from, but does that really matter if I don’t remember? I look in the mirror every day and see an unfamiliar face, an unknown person that’s supposed to be me… but I don’t know anything about this person. I don’t know if he loved coffee, if he was mean to the cleaning lady, if he was a Trekkie, or a superstar in the kitchen. I know nothing about him, except that he’s not in here. Not the slightest trace. If I am the sum total of my experiences, and my experiences stretch back for about 10 weeks (give or take the stay in a hospital bed), what does it matter what came before? I got, perhaps reluctantly, perhaps not, what many people only dream of; a fresh start, a clean slate, tabula rasa. And that is who I am now. This is who’s going to go forward.

Well… Not really a total tabula rasa, since I can write and walk and talk and all that, which is still freaking me out. And I can juggle. With 3 apples and a knife at the same time. Found that out today. Didn’t know how to stop though.

I think what I need now, are experiences and goals. I lack the former to be able to make quality decisions on the latter. I need to build a foundation to make decisions from. Most places I’ve read claim that travelling nurtures the mind, body and soul, so that’s what I intend to do. And Steve is helping me decide where. We went over some ideas for destinations, like touring the capitals of Europe, going to Qatar to see a safer part of the Middle East, hike the Serengeti and visit ancient ruins in Mexico, plus he gave me advice on how to avoid getting hustled, mugged and/or killed by less savoury individuals in most of those places. He was quite, um… colourful, when it came to self defence. We even put up a map on the wall and riddled it with pins and notes. We also talked about Willy for a bit, when I felt comfortable enough to reveal that I’d snuck out. He seemed unsurprised. Go figure.

Besides that, the rest of my week has been exclusively about computers. Like I mentioned, Steve helped me with the initial setup, but I’ve done some studying myself. I’ve gone through:

  • a comprehensive history of computing
  • taking apart and rebuilding a fried laptop (not that it works)
  • completing basic, advanced and superuser courses
  • written scripts just for fun
  • learning a bit of coding (C++ and Perl with a dash of Lisp and a sprinkle of Python)
  • reading up on the fundamentals of hacking and cracking, which appears to be more about mindset and social engineering.

And I bought myself some screen glasses with blue filters to stop myself from getting massive headaches from staring at the screen for dozens of hours. I need a resting/sleeping schedule or I might exhaust myself again, which is probably what happened last week. All work and no sleep makes Archi a dull, head-thumping-against-the-floor boy.

Still haven’t told Steve about the memory stick, the cracking of which has been a source of much frustration and procrastination, but I’m OK with not telling him. Everyone needs their little secrets and I only have this one. The second new laptop is nice, the first one I got on Monday also got fried by the memory stick when I failed to authenticate the password. Must be some kind of zero day exploit that has gone undetected or intentionally unaddressed. Pretty substantial one at that. Or the memory stick is intentionally designed to fry electronics. If I don’t get anywhere by next week, I might need to open it up. This is quite vexatious yet oddly thrilling, like I’m the central protagonist in some elaborate mystery story dodging detection while desperately searching for clues to my past all the while an unknown shadowy adversary watches from afar. Silly, but exciting!

Going to finish up now. Inger is coming by tonight for dinner with me and Steve. It was Steve’s suggestion since we’re stopping with the daily blood tests and it might be nice to do a wrap up with her. Not sure about the ‘nice’ aspect. I don’t like the woman and I feel that her ‘origin story’ about me is utter bovine fecal matter, but as long as she doesn’t fling it at the oscillating unit I’m sure it’ll be fine. I don’t know. Need to figure this out.

Still. I think I’m OK. I feel OK.


End of episode 6. Share, like and follow for weekly updates. Thank you for reading.

Archi’s Diary – Episode 5

Welcome to the next episode of Archi’s Diary, a weekly entry in my favorite amnesiac’s journal as he tries to adjust to a world he doesn’t remember. And hopefully the last week with the placeholder image. New cool art commissioned. Exciting stuff!


Episode 5 – February 2016placeholder image

This week marked a change in my relationship with Steve. A little at least. It all started when we were out picking up more project materials and I had a bit of a meltdown or rather I screamed at him to leave me alone. I felt exasperated with everything. When I had calmed down sufficiently, I told him I was scared and confused and felt that nobody trusted me, and that I wanted to leave, so he… sat me down, bought me coffee and listened. It was almost like he knew me personally and cared about how I felt. We spoke for some three hours straight, and I wrote down some of the things he told me.

“I am here to keep you safe and make sure you can function. Finding you unconscious proved that you are not ready for all this. We need you to recover fully”

and….

“Of course you don’t trust us. It’s sensible not to trust people you don’t know and you don’t know anyone. Not everyone in the world is there to help you, nor intends to help you. Most people are decent enough, but every once in awhile you get a rotten egg. Whether they were cracked from the start, or dropped and broken along the way, doesn’t matter, it only takes one egg to foul life’s cake.”

and…

“Everyone has to do things they don’t like, all the time. Life really is about doing the bad things so the good things can come into the light. Complaining about it doesn’t help. Just crack on and be done with it, so you don’t have to repeat it later.”

I’m not entirely sure about the cake bit and what cracking on means, but I think I got the gist of it. And then we went to church to seek ‘higher counsel’, as he put it. Which was code for speaking with the vicar and ingesting an obscene amount of pastry and coffee. More damn coffee. I read somewhere that this is tea country, that they broke and warred with half the known world for the damn stuff for hundreds of years, and they keep giving me coffee?! Must make them a sort of heathens. Anyway, he was nice and all, but the whole conversation boiled down to:

“The people here care about you and want the best for you. Steve is one of our most devout patrons. Donates to church and helps us. Trust in God and Steve, to help and guide you on your journey.”

I’m a little bit at odds with Steve’s pragmatism. We went home (or whatever you call it) and it’s been better between us. Not really friends, more of an acceptable companion, like a friendly colleague or a talking dog. (I watched UP this morning.)  

The only other thing on note this week, which I didn’t share with Steve, is the contents of the memory stick. Went to Willy and asked to if I could borrow his computer, but he doesn’t have one, so we went to the library. At night, since Steve would have followed me during the day. He told me most libraries have computers for public use, which they charge a symbolic fee for, but I could use one for free. So I plugged in the little thing on some boxy thing with a CRT monitor attached, and got prompted with a password window. No amount of guessing worked. And quite disconcertingly so, the computer did a hard shut down after the tenth attempt, resulting in a bit of black smoke smelling of burnt plastic. What kind of security is this? This is spy movie weird. Like something a Bourne or Bond would be playing with. Willy wasn’t too happy, but there was nothing we could do about it. So we’re going to see the new moon tonight with his wife instead. And I will have to find some other way of accessing this thing.

At least things are better. Going to order a laptop tomorrow. See if I can teach myself to hack this thing. Carefully.

Bit more OK now. Suspicious, but OK.


End of episode 5. Share, like and follow for weekly updates. Thank you for reading.