He watches.

It is not all he does. You see, he has time. He has all the time in the world.

He is not allowed to interfere. Interefering would be costly. It is prohibited. It is wrong.

He's told this by someone he has no choice but to obey.

They all must obey, of course. To not obey would be to... cease to exist.

Watching agonizes; watching fills with pain. Watching is not an easy task. But you see, he must document. After all, that is what he has been told to do. By Him. He must obey... to not obey would be to.... cease. Simply.

It is quite amazing.

He sees.... everything. Yes, everything.

It is perhaps impposible you say, to see everything.

That is disagreed upon. He does indeed, witness every act. What he has seen, what he has documented, could change the world.

It would end the world.

He who must be obeyed says so, and so is believed.

If it was possible. Possible, for him to feel.... would it change things?

He who must be obeyed says so.

It has all been explained. Multiple times...

Yes he has asked, multple times. He has fluidity with his Master... after all, his job is indeed important. Oh yes... indeed.

He shares the worlds pain... it is only what he is allowed to feel, the most bearable of human emotion. How wonderful, must it be, to feel their other emotions...

He thinks sometimes, very wonderful. His Master says so. His Master does not feel either. His Master says it is weakness.

He believes...

But not really.

Skies all over the world glitter.... some are grey, ridden with clouds, flashes of malign streaks... bolts... lightning. Some littered, rain plummets, descending, to splatter, to decease. Others clear.... they are bright. They are beautiful. Sometimes.

But as a being that must see everything... with perpetual insight... with everlasting perception, he must witness also to misery. As not anyone else in the universe, with the exception of the Master, can see, he see's... terror.

It is terror.

It is black, increasing... darkness.

Or...

As they, the beings below may call it, the fault of their habitation on a once beautiful planet.

Polution.

In his opinion {opinion...} it does not properly convey...

The horror.

But of course. He must not have opinions. He must witness. He must document. Documentation does not need his opinions.

To see, yet not to judge, yet not to think, yet not to... feel...

The impposibility of such a thing is limitless.

Therefore he does think, he does feel, he does judge... he simply must not express.

That is more manageable....

The Master knows his predicament.

He is a gentle Master after all.

He is caring.

He is strict, but he is caring.

He understands?

Do not think so lightly... he does not.

But he allows...

And that is importance.

...

He {I} must not convey. He is simply put to bear the burden of witnessing.

Do not think he has not questioned {It is impposible to question} the Master...

But the Master knows his doubts. The Master knows that he feels.. the Master can not spare to take this away from him {me}.

.....

Why is also questioned.

Of course.

He has his theories..

Of course.

His theories must not be documented. His feelings must not find their way into this... archive.

There is no place for them there.

That is why there is a here.

Where is here?

Why, this is his head of course.

Of course.

His {my} thoughts... things will be quite uninhibited. The only one with access to this is the Master... because the Master knows all. Of..

Of course.

It troubles...

Master knows that also.

It troubles him how the Master must know... everything...

For he {I} must SEE everything.

For the Master.

The Master knows everything... he can not stand to look.

It is... pain.

Feelings....

He does believe now that these feelings are these lowly beings downfall.

He watches them... eternity, for he watches longer than any word can describe.

He watches... they burn.

They are trapped, by their own feelings. They are suffocated in their..

Jealousy. Sometimes greed. Suffocation, love.

He has seen it... multiple times... destruction by their own hands. They each commit personal suicides. Every day. Every hour. All over this world.

It is

PAIN

Yes...

But then, there are also, those cases.

There are those cases, those beings... so brave... seldom self centered, humble in their begginings, acceptant of their ends. Determined to suceed, despite those promises of personal suicide every day.

Those people amaze me.

Him.

He ponders. He should not very well ponder... it is to think... which is to commit emotional suicide. He does, even though he knows this. Ponders how such people, so different in attitude, in life, may inhabit the same planet, may steer the same world.

He has no answers.

He has no... theories...

Well that is a lie.

He, of course has theories. He has always had theories...

The Master does not like his theories. Therefore, he refuses to think about them. He thinks the Master does not confront them because they are true. But that is thinking about them then...

So he must just witness.

This world.

These people.

He {I} regret this life.

I...

Excuse him.

He has a mind, it is of concern, that he must have a mind. But to document things, of course he must. And with a mind come thoughts. With thoughts come opinions.

He does not mean to have opinions.

Please.

Forgive him {me}.

It is always done.

Cycles do not end or change, they simply are, here.

This is his Cycle.

He must watch.

He must document.

He must think.

He must feel, and witness.

He must not voice opinions.

He must ask forgiveness.

His thoughts must be interpreted as uncontrollable.

And forgiven.

And forgotten.

And the Cycle must continue.

As he watches for eternity.

As he {I} fulfills purpose.