(Written in Enochian.)
As much as I may wish to end my own existence, killing myself serves no purpose. I may hate what I have become, but I am by far not the worst of my kind. Unlike many of them, I see the people of the world as more than tools, sources of entertainment or sources of sustenance. One newborn babe is worth more in this world, than the greatest of my kind.
What most of my kind do not realize is that the swarming masses of this world ARE the world. Without them, their dreams, their faith, their innovation; the world itself is nothing. We are all figments of their imaginations. If they believe in something hard enough, it becomes true. The invisible web of the internet, the bombs made of atoms... these things are not their true power. Their belief is their true power. They believe in science. Thus, it works.
What I am and what I do makes me beyond redemption. My soul is lost forever to the One's light. I know this and own this. All I can do is attempt to balance the scales for my continued existence. I do this by giving charity, working to free the souls of the people from static oppression, teaching others of my kind responsibility in their actions, and by destroying the things that are committed to their evil. I must use this curse for the benefit of those who truly matter in this world.
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