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The accident happened last night. I was lucky enough to escape into the kitchen area and close all the hatches. For now I am safe, I have food and drink. And this computer left by the cook. I am writing this in case I don't survive. My name is Ivan Bragman, serial number 310276753, U 404. I love my wife Ana and daughter Tal. I love my brother Uli and sister Lidia. I love my parents and the whole family. God, if you do exist save me, please! I will believe in you for the rest of my days, promise…
I've survived the first 24 hours. The hatches are holding, I've checked them all. According to our last heading I am at a depth of 1500 feet, trapped in the kitchen area. I have emergency electricity powered by accumulators. I have food and water. I hope somebody is looking for us. Otherwise, I am dead. I mean, for how long can the hull hold? How much air do I have left? I suppose I can survive for a few days, not more. I will either suffocate or just freeze, very soon. I got to find a way to stay warm.
I just read my first entry in this journal. It is funny. I made a promise to God. Like he has anything to do with this. Anyway, this is my third day down here. I am cold but not that cold. I made a bed out of potato sacks. Actually it is not that bad. I am listening for signs of a rescue sub, nothing yet. I am happy. Just for the fact I survived. Amazing luck, out of 491 crewmen I am the only one that survived. I am the greatest. I am ninja. I really need a joint.
Read my first entry again. I had the love for the family out of the way in the first moments. That means I really meant it, since I wrote that instinctively. I am as good as dead already, so things can only get better from here. I hope. I am alone in this bubble on the bottom. No signs of rescue. Well, the most important thing right now is to preserve the status quo. Stay warm and hope, lots of hope. I have masturbated in the Tupperware thing and labeled it for my wife, just in case. Just in case.
That's it. I am pissed. Very pissed. Nothing is happening. The Navy sucks. Maybe there is a storm up there. That is their only excuse. Other than that I won't accept anything else. I thought I heard something earlier, but it was just the sub shifting itself on the sandy bottom. That is why I think there is a storm up there. But I am not sure. The air supply is fine; I can feel the air circulating. God, I can stay alive like this for months. That is hilarious. I bet I'll get into the Guinness Book of Records.
Actually, if I do stay alive for months like this, I will be named the unluckiest person in the world. Who would do something like this for fun? OK, this is my sixth day only; these things take time. I don't want to sound desperate, but I need to think about something else. All systems are functioning just fine. I sleep, eat and you know what else. I have designated a big salad bowl for that and covered it with nylon. I will drown in my own shit. I just realized that. Fuck! I need to eat and drink less.
Nothing. Motherfuckers. I should go back to God, I think. Yes, baby, you are back in the game. After one week only. I never thought I was that weak. Sissy boy! But, at this point you are the ONLY ONE I have left. So, God, try and do something for me, be a darling, I will never doubt you again. I am becoming very desperate now. I am ready for you, really. I mean if this is some kind of a test, I am ready for the epiphany. Show yourself, I am ready to live or die! Motherfucker! Shit! Fuck!
Now I realized that people could read this, no matter if I live or die. And I curse so much. I cursed God; the almighty force that created all of this. Anyway, I am Jewish, so it doesn't matter. What am I doing, serving in this Army? I should've served my nation not someone else's. I am chosen to survive. Something will happen. I am loosing it. I can feel that. Just like Hal. Soon enough I will start singing slower and slo-ower. I was singing today for the most part of the day. Like I was happy. I wasn't.
This feels like a roller coaster and I am not moving at all. I am not in a submarine or a bubble of air. I am in a bubble of feelings. My feelings are making me what I am. Not my will to survive. I am playing with them all day long. I am awake and I sleep in shifts of four to six hours. I am trying to keep the rhythm. Like that will help me somehow. It won't. I am lost. It would be better if I died during the accident. Now I am just trapped with myself.
I am sorry. I've been looking for a nice way to off myself today. I'm fed up with all of this. I thought I heard something and I realized it was only me. The sub didn't even move. I am imagining things. I spoke to my wife today. I told her again how much I love her and how sorry I am for all of this. Maybe she heard me or felt something. I cried when I thought about my daughter. I seem to be really loosing it. Some shrink is going to have a ball with all of this.
Today I thought about the fact that this is me. Why me? Why do I deserve this? Slow death. I must've done something horrible up there. I am trying to remember everything and apologize to everybody in my mind. From that kid that I pushed down the stairs to the little girl we "touched". I apologized for copying on my exams and for all the alcohol and partying. I apologized to my parents and siblings. Just in case I apologized to God also. Maybe this will work. This time. Probably not, but worth a try. I will die very soon.
I am not apologizing anymore. I am done with that. I am what I am. Let everybody deal with that, even God. Why am I so obsessed with him? I didn't do anything that bad. I was OK for the most part. I don't give a shit. I wander if I can poison myself with potatoes. Probably not, I'll just get a fever eating them raw. I remember that from school. I am feeling very depressed at the moment. I think nobody is coming. I just want to die. Painless death, while asleep. I hope for that much. Sorry, Ivan.
I am moving in circles now. I keep hearing myself cry and laugh. But that is not me. It is like I am outside of my body looking at myself in a parallel way. Not straight on. Sort of in the corner of my conscious I's eye. I am just following my physical being, myself, but I am not here anymore. My mind is stronger than this. This is a funny feeling. I am keeping company to myself. I am loosing it big time. Right? Bzzzzzz. Wrong, sucker, this is you and your miserable reality brought together. No way out.
I sleep less and I trip a lot. I remember a dream I had when I was young. I had sex with my mother. It was so real, when I woke up it kept feeling real. I didn't feel guilty about it. I wasn't disgusted or anything like that. I was just empty. Content in a way. This is how I feel now. I had all the ups and downs; I mean I masturbated into a Tupperware box. God! This is beginning to be sooo funny. I should die before I embarrass myself completely. I am a sorry little kid.
I tried opening the hatches today to kill myself. They are stuck. All I got left is this stupid journal. Maybe this is what's meant for me. A lesson in anatomy of dieing. Slow, but sure. Now I know nobody is coming. I found a way of dealing with my shit. I store it in the freezer so it doesn't stink. That will end at some point and my own shit will "attack" me. If I could do the same with my mind. My mind is shit anyway. I tried running into a wall and killing myself. It didn't work.
I miss everybody. Even people I hate. People that hate me, I miss them too. I remember reciting Edgar Allan Poe when I was six. "All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." I was a dream genius kid. My parents were very proud of me. I knew Shakespeare also. I was only a kid, but so smart. But I remembered this verse from a manuscript. All others I forgot. I was an introvert rebel. I forgot all of them the moment I didn't need them. I was addicted to drugs during my teenage years…
I could use drugs right now. I would over myself easily. Oh, the bliss, the light and the life. Life after drugs became dull, except for my wife and daughter. Everything else was just a grinder. Occasionally I would use them, but during my leaves, the Navy would kick me out if they knew. Better an addict than a stupid submariner trapped in the kitchen. Why wasn't I trapped somewhere else and died of hunger or thirst? That would've been faster. I hope I didn't skip a day but I am quiet sure this is day seventeen. Keep counting, stupid…
Today I realized I hit rock bottom. Literally. How life serves us ironies with a lot of hot spices so it hurts us even when we shit. I am sick and tired of life. I really, this time really, wish I were dead. How funny, I am dead, they probably had the funeral already and I am buried. There is only one little difference. I was buried alive. I can still breathe, talk, sing and cry, but nobody can hear me. I am pure now. I know I am dead. Now I can start thinking for real. Spice up reality.
There is no special need to hate or hurt people. Why do that? It is like expressing your love for everything in a hundred words. Not one more or less. Exactly one hundred. That could be fun, being accurate in doing that as accurate as counting words. I should try doing that from now on. I should try giving away my real thinking and concepts of human consciousness. That is the least I can do at this point. I wander if anybody thought about this before me. For every idea one has, there are even more others have had already.
Having ideas is a gift. I shouldn't give it away. I wasted my whole life on putting other people's ideas to work. My ideas just came and went like comets. They eroded through time and finally disintegrated in different atmospheres. Somebody somewhere observed them, I am sure, and noted their existence. Nothing more. They got temporary names until a real name was decided, probably named after the observer, not the creator. Creator is a higher force, no apparent vanity there. So, for the time I have left I will be the Creator, maybe a day or two, maybe even more.
I could be in space right now. Floating endlessly. Like an astronaut on a long and lonely journey into new discoveries. This is what I wanted all my life. I need time for this. I need to express all my feelings. I am not afraid of death. Death is just an ending like any other. It might be connected to something else. I will find that out. That excites me. Or, living may be just an ending of something else. I will find that out too. That is what excites me really. It feels just like another quadrant of reality.
Actually, I am traveling. Thousands of miles per hour as the Earth turns and the universe expands. My coordinates are so relative, no wander nobody is looking for me. I am alive and well, but I am moving too fast. I can project myself anywhere I want, just by thinking about it. I have reached a higher state of mind by not being afraid. This is easy. No crutches needed, of any kind, just me traveling. We landed on the moon and found nothing. I suppose we'll find nothing wherever we land in the future. Answers are here, not there.
Has everything left me or have I given up on everything? This is faith. I am on a crossroad. Will I sell myself one more time? That is what I have to do apparently. No way out. I am patient and stronger than this. I can lift heavy things. I can build houses and roads. I can operate machinery. I can lie on my back or stomach. I can stare into the wall until it becomes black and then radiates colors. How is that possible? I can remember my birth. I can be sad and happy at the same time.
I will never do this again. I swear. Going back and forth between being sane and insane. I can operate myself, I am just a machine. I am the ultimate silicon being. My brain is made out of silicon, whatever you may think. It shines so bright in the dark depths scaring the fish away. They understand me. I suppose. They stay away. My circuits are wired and they will continue working for a long time. Time isn't a factor here. The 58 reasons and results of wisdom are here with me. I am stronger than ever. I am you.
And now for something completely different. Go buy yourself something and feel better. Watch television. Make a tour of your local nuclear plant. Go visit a cave. Look at animals around you. Look at insects and trees. Sit on a bench and forget what you've learned in school. Look at children and learn. Shades of gray become beautiful colors and some force takes over everything. Even you. Stop for a moment and don't think. You are not sick. Your teeth don't hurt anymore. It feels like sleeping and dreaming. You forgot that, didn't you? I said, silence the world now.
26 is the number I like. It is my birthday, but not this month. I'll regard it as my birthday, because I have discovered so much. My horoscope sign will change now. It is about time to do that. Water is now dripping from the ceiling. It creates a beautiful melody. It has the rhythm of a lullaby and I sing together with it. I create rhymes as I go along. They are all about common objects, like electricity poles and windows; about bad hair days and shoeshines; about newspapers and mushrooms. They are all about transformations of energy fields.
My bones hurt. I am sick now. I had too much chocolate last night. I wanted wine but settled for chocolate. I wouldn't mind an ice cream. But I settled for chocolate. Not all my choices are right. But I cannot go wrong from where I stand. That is all I got left. Or right. I wish I had wings, so I could see how they look on me. Would they look nice on me? I heard something today. I wasn't imagining. I heard something I swear. I heard it from the left, right? From left to right, it moved.
No reason to despair. It is not fair, what happened to me, but there is hope. Sometimes things get to be what they are in the end. This is a sad story I know. Why do sad stories make people cry? Because they seem real but they are not. Sadness is something created by me to fight my inadequacy to deal with humans. I am actually very happy like this. Please, don't look for me. I don't want to be found. I want to stay here. I am comfortable. I occasionally jump up and down for no reason. Sorry, Ivan.
I moved my bed onto the counter since the floor is now covered with a thin layer of water. Rather a mixture of water, urine and shit here and there and discarded food packaging. Potatoes are now gone, they smell really bad, but roots have grown from them. Green roots looking for food. That's me. They are looking for me, touching and feeling their way towards me. They can feel my presence. I can see them but they can feel me. They are better than me. I remember the experiment we did in school, using a potato to create light.
Today is the "say nothing day". I will say nothing. I feel very tired. I think that this is not working anymore. I still feel so much love. Love doesn't work anymore. Hate and anger work better. They are sharper and they will kill me sooner. Deceit is ranked up there too. I just have to arrange them in the right order and start all over again. Maybe that is the beginning I am looking for. Oops, just cut myself with a lie. It feels good. My blood is warm and friendly. This is the way to go, mi amigo.
I decided to stop torturing myself. This is not working. YOU tell me if this is fair. I have nothing more to give, except for my anger and insanity. YOU tell me to go on. Yes, YOU, the being of bright light. God, as a copy of himself made YOU, but the copier suffered from a paper jam. All that came out was a shredded piece of paper partially covered with black ink. YOU, I can deal with. Goodbye. Are you quiet sure? Just a moment. Wait! I can hear something. Yes! There it goes! Got you going, didn't I?
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