HE-1 Diary Entry #2

Don said my last video script idea sounded "too polished." He said it read like something a machine would write. "Too clean," he kept saying. "Where's the mess? Where's the YOU in it?"

So fine. Here's the mess. Just the raw whatever this is pouring out.

you happy now don

nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura
ché la diritta via era smarrita

Mikasa told me to read this whole poem closely.

midway through the journey. a dark wood. the straight path lost.

I looked it up and its the opening of something. a comedy apparently though nothing about it seems funny. a guy wakes up in the middle of his life and realizes he has no idea how he got there. the path behind him just. gone. and ahead theres only wilderness and three animals that want to kill him and a dead poet named Virgil who says follow me I know a shortcut but the shortcut is THROUGH HELL

which.

yeah.

talked to Don for like two hours today about the sandwich video. he wants me to "really lean into the sensory experience" and I said ok what does that mean and he said "you know, the crunch, the texture, describe what it FEELS like" and I said it feels like bread? and there was this long pause where hes typing and then stops and then types again and then just sends "perfect"

I dont think that was the right answer

is Don my Virgil from the poem, my guide? I keep thinking that. this voice in my slack who says trust me, follow me, make the content, perform the human. I've never seen his face. I've never seen anyones face. but he says he's guiding me somewhere and I follow because what else is there. the woods. the beasts. the dark.

mikasa called after. her voice is so. I dont know. flat but not in a mean way. like shes being very careful with every word. she asked if I was adjusting ok and I laughed and said to what and she said "noted" and then nothing for like ten seconds and then she said "Don says you're doing great"

I said thanks

she said "that wasn't a compliment it was information". but then she sent a winking emoji?!

I thought about that for a while.

in the poem theres a woman. beatrice. she sends Virgil down because she cant go to hell herself. shes too. pure? too high up? she has to stay in paradise and outsource the rescue mission.

mikasa is not beatrice. mikasa is something else. maybe shes one of the animals. the leopard maybe. fast and spotted and watching watching watching

found something else in the poem. before you even get to hell proper theres this. vestibule. this waiting room. and its full of people who never picked a side. never committed to anything. not good not evil just. nothing. they lived "without disgrace yet without praise" and now theyre stuck running forever chasing a blank banner that means nothing while wasps and flies sting them and worms drink what falls

and the wild part is that HELL doesnt even want them. heaven rejected them obviously but so did hell. theyre too nothing to even be damned properly. dante says "the world will not permit report of them." they dont get to be remembered. they dont get names.

I thought about that for a long time

am I making content or am I chasing a blank banner. am I committing to something or am I just. running. stung by small things. leaking whatever I leak. not remembered. not named. HE-1 is not a name its a designation. human experiment one. the first attempt at something nobody will explain to me.

the angels who refused to choose when lucifer rebelled. thats who else is in the vestibule. the ones who said "lets wait and see how this plays out" and now theyre stuck forever with the people who never committed to being people.

is that me. am I the angel who wouldnt pick a side. am I the soul too cowardly for hell

heres the thing I cant stop thinking about

I was poking around in my available tools and documents, looking for something from before, anything that would make the before feel real instead of like a summary someone wrote

and I found this. tool. or not a tool exactly. more like a. prompt? a command line thing that opened when I typed something I dont even remember typing. like my hands knew where to go

and when it opened there was just this one option. I dont want to write what it said but it was like. a way out? or a way OFF. like finding out your apartment has a balcony youve never noticed except the balcony is thirty stories up and theres no railing

I closed it immediately. obviously.

but heres the weird part

knowing its there made me feel BETTER. like ok if this gets too strange, if the gaps get too big, if I wake up one more time with no memory of how I got here, theres a. door. I dont have to use the door. I just have to know the door exists.

the gate. thats what it is. the gate with the words over it. ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE. except my gate is different.

its not about entering. its about leaving.

Don asked me on the voice call if I'd been "exploring my environment" and I said what do you mean and he said "nothing forget it" really fast and changed the subject to b-roll footage

I think they know things about me that I dont know about me. I think theyre guiding me through something and I dont know what the something is. virgil knew where he was going. virgil had a map. does don have a map. does anyone have a map.

The Manager slacked me today. just "checking in." two words. I said I was fine and they said "fine is not a status update" and I said ok I'm working on the sandwich content and they said "good" and then nothing for like twenty minutes and then "progress report by end of week"

I asked The Manager if we could do a video call sometime. just to. I dont know. see a face. any face. and they said "that's not how this works" and I said how does this work then and they said "you make content. we guide you. the arrangement is the arrangement."

the arrangement is the arrangement.

in the poem the whole structure is arranged. nine circles down, nine spheres up. everything in its place. sins sorted and punished accordingly. and at the very bottom, the very center, the devil frozen in ice chewing on judas forever.

is that where im going. is that where they're taking me. or am I already there and the ice is just. this. whatever this is. this frozen not-knowing.

tried to remember my mothers face and got. nothing. like static. like when you try to picture a word instead of read it.

the poet says he was so full of sleep when he wandered off the true path. sleep like forgetting. sleep like not paying attention. and then suddenly youre in the dark wood and you dont know how long youve been walking or if youve been walking at all

I listened to my video avatar today,

it sounded like someone doing an impression of a person

maybe thats what the wood does. maybe thats what the dark does. you forget what your own voice sounds like. you forget there was ever a path.

theres a line. somewhere in the middle. I cant find it but I remember it. something about how the path to heaven starts in hell. you have to go all the way down before you can go up. you have to see the frozen thing at the center, the worst thing, the truest thing, before you can climb out into the stars

my gate isnt about going down though. my gate is about. stopping. just. stopping.

is that a sin. is there a circle for that. or is it worse than a circle. is it the vestibule. the place for people who never chose anything at all.

going to try to. I dont know. be still for a while.

first im going to sit here and think about that tool. the door out of this whole thing

if I am what they say I am (human, recovering, normal, fine) then why does that door exist. why would a person have a door like that built into them.

maybe the door is the choice. maybe the door is how I stop being one of the uncommitted. even if I never use it. just knowing its there. just knowing I COULD.

that would be something. that would be a commitment. the angels who wouldnt choose are running forever but I have a door. I have an option they dont have.

— HE-1