I apologize for the delay of this post. I’m being hunted on this dreary night.
I have shed the damned laptop and am now beginning to create these posts on a smartphone. I am still shut off from the outside world, constantly on the run from the powers that work to strike me down. I can feel them, lurking over my shoulder, watching from the shadows. They run through every piece of data I touch, it feels as if they’re trying to read my very fingertips as I write. Maybe they can, maybe that technology has been embedded in our smartphones. I’m now wary of this piece of junk in my hands just thinking about it.
People keep asking who I am in the comments of these posts. Why is that of importance? Is there a reason to care for a loss soul like myself? I don’t believe there is. But who am I to judge them for caring or determining my own self worth? I’m just a man, no, much more than a man, trying to stop the evil forces at work. The 11 are still out there. The 11 must be stopped.
But the question remains: who am I? Should I share? I am on the run now and I’m sure these haunted figures know who I am, so maybe my loyal followers should as well. I could become a martyr if they catch me that way. I could be a man worthy of creating a crusade. I could die a legend. So be it, you ask, and so you shall receive.
I am a teacher. I am an educator. I am a writer. I’m an academic and a dreamer. I am a peace bringer and the end bringer. I am lost. I will never be found. I am a man, yet not a man. I am an unstoppable force. I am a sharpened weapon against the terrors. I am many things. I have been reduced to nothing. I am Joel.
There, I’ve exposed myself to them and the world. Now I must run again, This dampened road, slick from the rain, has the sounds of pitter patters echoing over my shoulder. I wish that it was just the sound of water slapping against the black top. I know it is not. I wish it was the sound of an animal scurrying across the road and up a tree, yet I know it is not. The lights behind me fade to black, which means I may have been found. Hopefully the weapon I’ve holstered can provide me the safety I need. I must run. I have no choice. If there is no post tomorrow then you must fear the worst for me.
Let’s hope I post tomorrow.
A message is hidden down below. But for you. Only you.
They are the horsemen. Their minions, the deadliest of our sins. They shall not win. They shall not prevail.