[ENTRY-001]
terminal\user\jem\messages
Jém: I think it’s better if I start using something to separate us. Yes, the ‘é’. I think it’s quite a clever little way to tell us apart. I know you don’t like it but I know you don’t know how to insert special characters on the terminal so you have to live with it now.
Jem: fuuuuck you
Jém: You wanted this. We can just forget about the whole thing and all the effort we (mostly I) put in.
Jem: no the fuck you is purely for the pretentious accented e bullshit in the name (i don’t appreciate that cruel jab at the end by the way). i still want to talk. how is jem 1 and 2 not simpler?
Jém: I think introducing even a small level of subtlety would be a welcome change for once. Feel free to call yourself something else if you like but you won’t change my mind.
Jem: fantastic
Jém: So what’s on your mind?
Jem: nothing
Jém: Fantastic.
Jem: i mean there’s nothing to say. nothing out of the ordinary.
Jém: You read for a little bit.
Jem: don’t make me tap the sign
Jém: You read for a little bit longer than usual, I meant to say. Maybe a negligible difference to you but a difference to me nonetheless.
Jem: should i put a smile on my dial now? is that progress?
Jém: I don’t think it’s “nothing” but you can think whatever you want. I care.
Jem: y’know sometimes i think it’s great to have you for remembering to turn the lights off before bed and folding the laundry but this is a case where i feel it’s maybe not so much. don’t talk yourself into thinking about something that isn’t really there just to make me feel better.
Jém: I’m not talking myself into anything. I am being my authentic self for a change and throwing you a bone on a gold-plated platter next to a loaded gun right now. “Even if it’s bullshit it can be about anything” is what I believe you called it.
Jem: i said that?
Jém: Yes.
Jem: really?
Jém: Yes.
Jem 1: crazy
Jém: I saw that.
Jem 1: i got bored and i couldn't help it. i like to think I’m Jem 1
Jém: We can work with that. I don't mind Jem 1 at all.
Jem: i’m changing it back now. i actually hate how it looks when only one of us is numbered. this is all so messy now i can’t commit to anything
Jém: Then we’ll work on names later, it's fine. How about this: how are you holding up?
Jem: jeeesus christ
Jém: It’s simple! I have all day.
Jem: we’re not a therapist, you’re not a therapist. don’t do this shit
Jém: You wanted to talk. So do I. This is usually how a conversation goes.
Jem: why does it feel like pulling teeth then? i just hate the line of questioning. i'm sorry but you sound like a robot to me. this feels all about me. don’t you feel the same?
Jém: This is our life now, as exhausting as I know you think it sounds. Look, we have to wrap, if we still want to stick to an hour. Just tell me something, anything.
Jem: i miss the dog
Jém: So do I.
Jem: it’s fun to imagine that the boys down at the lab are working on growing dogs again. without the mantis blood. for real this time.
Jém: That made me crack a smile. Thank you.
Jem: i try. in general it’s fun to imagine that there are boys down at a lab. that there’s a grand and logical purpose for being here. like we’ve been specially selected to contribute to some scientific, noble pursuit that’ll benefit mankind. instead every day it’s the same 2 meals out of 5 in weekly rotation, a lap around the hab in the morning, a nap before reading and watching movies and then sleeping some more
Jém: I thought you liked the cooking and cleaning and maintaining. You said it was like a video game.
Jem: i mean i was half joking. having a laugh so to speak. i can’t keep doing this every day. i need something. anything.
Jém: Nothing will change if you don’t do something about it. I can put that in bold if you like.
Jem: don’t hit me with two 9/11s like that. i know i need to do something already. emphasis on “i”. i want to do more but there’s so much stringy guilt i associate with it. i have access to do the things i want and write what i want, more than ever before, and i waste it away because i can’t get up half an hour earlier. how do you reckon with that, knowing i’m a parasite? and i don’t mean that to put me down but how can you live from one day to the next with the knowledge that i consciously make the decision to not do something because i can’t be fucked or feel too tired? doesn’t that eat away at you?
Jém: It doesn’t eat away at me. You say you do nothing but you still eat the food I cook. Wear the clothes I fold. Sleep in the bed I make. On a microscopic scale, I know you want to stay alive but I don’t think you want to live unless it feels like the most optimized and well-thought-out version of living humanly possible. That’s borderline impossible. At least to me. Or a part of yourself. However you want to look at it.
Jem: i know. i don’t want to thank you if it means patting myself on the back here but you know what i mean
Jém: I do. We’ll call it. I think we got somewhere today despite the mess.
Jem: not to put you on a pedestal as always but it’s a relief to know you feel somewhat infallible. that you can see a trainwreck even if you don’t explicitly call it that
Jém: Thanks. Goodnight.
Jem: yeah