I have torn myself at the seams; trying failingly, grasping desparately to understand my eunrequited life, my uneffable love. I have writ this poem in the blood of my existence, the blood of the traitor's of Juneau has been smeared across my meaning.

Gehirn drives me, Juneau protects me. And Nerv guides me down the winding path into, and beyond, the darkness of my soul. Something awaits me acros the frozen darkness; my love is the only companion, the one thing I have left to stand upon in this broken city of one.

Soon, it begins.

Soon to be a new breed of existence. Soon to be experience, change, enlightenment.

Soon to be Gehirn von Juneau.