Journal 10

  Sol 372

  James wanted a simple burial. I buried him the way a human would be buried. I dug a human sized hole in the ground and placed rocks over the mound. I placed a cross of metal pipes and stuck it at the head of the rock mound. I placed his name plates on the cross. He told me he was not religious in any sense. But that making a cross was a human custom. More of a sign of respect, I suppose. He said that he was raised to believe in a being simply known as God. However, he never believed in him or any religion. He was more reason than anything.

  I wanted to give him a Thoga’Rach funeral, which includes setting the body to ash with fire and consuming the ash as a sign of respect indicating his spirit was free to roam the universe as his body is consumed to protect the essence that was once him. In the name of Golo, this is a tenet that must be made. If done for a being other than Thorg, then that being must be considered a worth adversary.

  James told me that my kind's custom of funeral was disgusting and I told him his funeral custom was pathetic and too simple. We both laughed at this at the time. Now, I find myself mourning at his burial mound every morning and night.

  I tried to go about my days as usual. However, being alone has broken me finally. I no longer have someone to talk to. The light of my pathetic world has extinguished and I feel forever abandoned. I did do my usual foraging for weeds and killing whatever underground beasts hidden in aquifers I could find. I did find myself carrying a sack of meat and weeds back to the ship. I walked very slowly up the dune hoping that I would hear or see James tinkering with the signal or being an idiot again. I was hoping dearly for it. Instead, I find the site empty except for me.

  I now find myself loudly weeping in the cockpit of my ship for many nights. I even sleep in James' destroyed ship some nights pretending that I was James for a moment. I curse at the heavens for the fucking signal to make contact with anyone or anything. I can't bring myself to step foot into James' ship. The memories of him haunt me. I still sometimes believe I hear his infectious laughter at night. Anything knocked down or rattled makes me hope he is still around.

  Instead he is not.

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  I have to remind myself of that.

  I suppose his death was a blessing in the end. He is free from this cruel existence and no longer feels pain or anguish. His spirit is free. I am forever cursed to live on it feels. I don't believe I can bring myself to try to survive anymore.

  I remember when my father told me the story of one they called Foro. Foro was a Thorg prophet who was once a mighty warrior. He found himself the last survivor of a tremendous battle of millions on the planet of Zym. Thorgs were at battle with an invasive species known as the Soyka. Foro led the charge to exterminate them once and for all. Foro was the only being left alive after the multi-year battle. The losses were so great that Foro and his ships could never leave the planet. It was glassed and left to burn in the cosmos. All life had died and Foro was left in a field filled with all the dead.

  It was there that Foro broke mentally and spiritually at the sight of what he witnessed and experienced. It was told that after 10 years of being left on the barren battlefield, he found salvation and reason within Golo. Golo showed mercy and kindness to Foro by sending him a Glintari angel to carry him back to his planet. From there, he became a prophet of Golo.

  I find myself similarly feeling like Foro the prophet except...

  I find no reason or love for Golo.

  I only find emptiness and lack of purpose. Golo has abandoned me. I don’t blame him. I am to die alone on this forgotten planet. I cannot find any reason to pray to Golo anymore. He has abandoned me. I am to perish to nothingness.

  Fuck Golo. Fuck all religions. Fuck all that. I have no faith anymore. I believe in nothing. I am to become nothing. I will be forgotten most likely.

  I am done. It's getting dark and I will finish writing soon.

  This will be my last journal entry. To whomever finds this...

  Tell the universe that this war is pointless. Tell the universe that we - James and I - existed in harmony and that it was possible for coexistence.

  Tell them we were here. That we lived... That we lived.

  Tell them there is hope in the universe... There is hope in darkness.

  But not for me. I am done.

  Farewell.