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 Dylan's Journal Transcribed

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PostSubject: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:09 am



Fact: People are so unaware, well, Ignorance is bliss I guess, that would explain my depression.



A Virtual Book


EXISTENCES


by: Dylan



Properties: This book cannot be opened by anyone except Dylan. Some supernatural force blocks common people from entering


<<-VoDkA->>

                                                                                                                             
<<-DyLaN->>
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:09 am


<<VoDkA>>

Monday March 31 1997

Life - Existence



EL THOUGHTZO’S



Ah yes, this is me writing, just writing. Nobody technically did anything, just I felt like throwing out my thoughts.

This is a weird time, weird life, weird existence.

As I sit here (partially drunk with a screwdriver) I think a lot. Think, think. That’s all my life is, just shitloads of thinking, all the time. My mind never stops.

Music runs 24/7 (except for sleep), just songs I hear, not necessarily good or bad, and thinking: about the asshole [redacted] in gym class - how he worries me; about driving and my family; about friends and doing things with them; about girls I know (mainly [redacted] & [redacted]) [and] how I know I can never have them - yet I can still dream.

I do shit to supposedly “cleanse” myself in a spiritual, moral sort of way: deleting the “wads” on my computer; not getting drunk for periods of time; trying not to ridicule/make fun of people [redacted] at school - yet it does nothing to help my life, mostly.

My existence is shit to me. How I feel that I am in eternal suffering, in infinite directions, in infinite realities. Yet these realities are fake, artificial, induced by thought. How everything connects, yet it’s all so far apart.

And I sit and think. Science is the way to find solutions to everything, right? I still think that, yet I see different views of shit now - like the mind, yet if the mind is viewed scientifically, hmm.

I dwell in the past, thinking of good and bad memories - a lot on the past though. I’ve always had a thing for the past, how it reacts to the pres¬ent and the future, or rather vice versa.

I wonder how/when I got so fucked up with my mind, existence, problem, when Dylan Benet Klebold got covered up by this entity containing Dylan’s body.

As I see the people at school, some good, some bad, I see how different I am. (Aren’t we all you’ll say), yet I’m on such a greater scale of difference than everyone else [as far as I know or guess?]. I see jocks having fun, friends, women, LIVEZ or rather shallow existences compared to mine (maybe). Like ignorance = bliss, they don’t know beyond this world (how I do in my mind, in reality, in this existence). Yet we each are lacking something that the other possesses. I lack the true human nature that Dylan owned and they lack the overdeveloped mind, imagination and knowledge tool.

I don’t fit in here. Thinking of suicide gives me hope: that I’ll be in my place wherever I go after this life; that I’ll finally not be at war with myself, the world, the universe. My mind body everywhere everything at PEACE, me my soul (existence).

And the routine is still monotonous. Go to school, be scared and nervous, hoping that people can accept me, that I can accept them.

The NIN [Nine Inch Nails] song Piggy is good for thought writing

The Lost Highway sounds like a movie about me



I’m going to write later, bye <<VoDkA>>
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:12 am


<<VoDkA>>

Tuesday April 15 1997

Poetry - My Way



Da ThoughtZ



Well well, back at it, yes (you say) whoever the fuck ‘you’ is, but yea.

My life is still fucked, in case you care, maybe, (not?). I have just lost fucking $45 and before that I lost my zippo & knife (I did get those back).

Why the fuck is he being such an ASSHOLE??? (God I guess, whoever is the being which controls shit). He’s fucking me over big time and it pisses me off. Oh God I HATE my life. I want to die really bad right now.

Let’s see what I have that’s good: A nice family, a good house, food, a couple of good friends, and possessions. What’s bad: no girls (friends or girlfriends), no other friends except a few, nobody accepting me even though I want to be accepted, me doing badly and being intimidated in any and all sports, me looking weird and acting shy - BIG problem, me getting bad grades, having no ambition of life. That’s the big shit.

Anyway, I was Mr. Cutter tonight. I have 11 depressioners on my right hand now and my favorite contrasting symbol because it is so true and means so much. The battle between good and bad never ends.

OK enough bitching, well I’m not done yet, OK go. I don’t know what I do wrong with people (mainly women). It’s like they are set out to hate and ignore me. I never know what to say or do.

[Redacted] is so fucking lucky he has no idea how I suffer.

Okay here’s some poetry.

This is a display of one man in search of answers never find¬ing them, yet in hopelessness understands things.

Existence - what a strange word. He set out by determination and curiosity, knows no ex¬istence, knows nothing relevant to himself. The petty declarations of others and everything on this world, in this world, he knows the answers to. Yet they have no purpose to him. He seeks knowledge of the unthinkable, of the undefinable, of the unknown. He explores everything using his mind, the most powerful tool known to him. Not a physical barrier blocking the limits of exploration, time through thought through dimensions, everything is his realm. Yet, the more he thinks, hoping to find answers to his questions, the more come up. Amazingly, the petty things mean much to him at this time. How he wants to be normal. Not this transceiver of everything. Then the answer occurs to him. How everything is connected yet separate. By experiencing the petty others’ actions, reactions, emotions, doings and thoughts, he gets a mental picture of what, in his mind, is a cycle. Existence is a great hall: life is one of the rooms; death is passing through the doors; and the ever existent compulsion of everything is the curiosity to keep moving down the hall, through the doors, exploring rooms, down this never-ending hall. Questions make answers, answers conceive questions, and at long last he is content.

TTYL [talk to you later] <<VoDkA>>
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:13 am


<<VoDkA>>

Wednesday May 21 1997

My Thoughtz Shit



Thoughtz



Yo, what’s up, hehe. Know what’s weird? Everyone knows everyone - I swear - like I’m an outcast, & everyone is conspiring against me.



Check it, (this isn’t good, but I need to write), so here:



Within the known limits of time, within the conceived boundaries of space, the aver¬age human thinks those are the settings of existence. Yet the ponderer, the outcast, the believer, helps out the human. “Think not of 2 dimensions,” says the ponderer, “but of 3, as your world is conceived of 3 dimensions, so is mine. While you explore the immediate physical boundaries of your body, you see in your 3 dimensions - L, W, and H. Yet I, who am more mentally open to anything, see my 3 dimensions. My realm of thought: Time, Space, and THOUGHT. Thought is the most powerful thing that exists. Anything conceivable can be produced. Anything and everything is possible, even in your physical world”. After this so called “lecture” the common man feels confused, empty, and unaware. Yet those are the best emotions of a ponderer. The real difference is, a true ponderer will explore these emotions and what caused them.



Another, a dream:



Miles and miles of never ending grass, like wheat. A farm, sunshine, a happy feeling in the presence, Absolutely nothing wrong, nothing ever is, contrary 180 degrees to normal life. No awareness, just pure bliss, unexplainable bliss. The only challenges are no challenge, and then, BAM!!! realization sets in, the world is the greatest punishment. Life.



Hypnosis place:

It is a sky, with one large cloud, and sort of a cloud made chair. The sun is at the head of the chair, 10 o’clock up into the sky. Below, I sometimes see mist and the green (forest green) earth, sort of a city, yet I hear nothing. I relax on this chair - actually like a chaise – and I am talking to what? I don’t know - it’s just there. I have the feeling that I know him, even though I consciously don’t, and we talk like we are the same person. He’s my soul.

The everlasting contrast:

Dark. Light. God. Lucifer. Heaven. Hell. GOOD. BAD. Yes, the everlasting contrast. Since existence has known, the “fight” between good & evil has continued. Obviously, this fight can never end. Good things turn bad, bad things become good, the “people” on the earth see it as a battle they can win. HA fucking morons. If people looked at history, they would see what happens. I think, too much. I understand, I am GOD compared to some of those unexistable brainless zombies. Yet, the actions of them interest me, like a kid with a new toy. Another contrast, more of a paradox actually, like the advanced go for the undevelopeds’ realm, while some of the morons become everything dwellers. But [there are] exceptions to every rule, and this is a BIG exception. Most morons never change. They never decide to live in the the “everything” frame of mind!

Laterz <<VoDKA>>
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:13 am


<<VoDkA>>

Wednesday July 23 1997

A Changing Time



Thoughtz



The [Redacted] Situation



It is not good for me right now (like it ever is).



But anyway, my best friend ever [Zach Heckler]: the friend who shared, experimented, laughed, took chances with and appreciated me more than any friend ever did, has been ordained, “passed on” in my book.



Ever since [Devon Adams] (who I wouldn’t mind killing) has loved him, that’s the only place he’s been - with her.



If any¬one had any idea how sad I am.



I mean we were the TEAM. When he and I first were friends, well, I finally found someone who was like me, who appreciated me and shared very common interests. Ever since 7th grade, I’ve felt lonely. When [Zach] came around, I finally felt hap¬piness (sometimes). We did cigars, drinking, sabotage to houses, EVERYTHING for the first time together and now that he’s “moved on” I feel so lonely, without a friend.



Oh well, maybe he’ll come around … I hope.



That’s All for this topic



Maybe I’ll [never see?] this again ô=[KiBBz]=ô

<<VoDkA>>
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:14 am


My 1st Love ???



OH my God, I am almost sure I am in love with [redacted], hehe.

Such a strange name, like mine, yet everything about her I love. From her good body to her almost perfect face, her charm, her wit and cunning, her NOT being popular.

Her friends (who I know) - some.

I just hope she likes me as much as I LOVE Her.

I think of her every second of every day. I want to be with her. I imagine me and her doing things together, the sound of her laugh. I picture her face. I love her.

If soul mates exist, then I think I’ve found mine.

I hope she likes Techno.



I love you,

Dylan
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:18 am


<<VoDkA>>

Friday September 5 1997

Life, Sucks



My Thoughtz



Oh God I want to die so bad. Such a sad desolate lonely unsalvageable I feel I am, not fair, NOT FAIR!!! I wanted happiness!! I never got it.



Let’s sum up my life - The most miserable existence in the history of time.



My best friend has ditched me forever, lost in bettering himself and having, enjoying and taking for granted his love. I’ve NEVER been this, not 100 times near this. They look at me [redacted] like I’m a stranger. I helped them both out through life and they left me in the abyss of suffering when I gave them the [boat out?].



The one who I thought was my true love, [redacted], is not. Such a shell of what I want the most. The meanest trick was played on me - a fake love. She, in reality, doesn’t give a good fuck about me, doesn’t even know me.



I have no happiness, no ambitions, no friends, and no LOVE!!!



[Redacted] can get me that gun I hope. I want to use it on a poor S.O.B. [son of a bitch] I know. His name is vodka, dylan is his name too.



What else can I do/give? I stopped the pornography. I try not to pick on people.



Obviously at least one power is against me.



[Redacted] - funny how I’ve been thinking about her over the last few days. Giving myself fake realities that she/others MIGHT have liked me, just a bit - my bad.



I have always been hated, by everyone and everything, just never aware.



Goodbye all the crushes I’ve ever had - just shells, images, no truths …BUT WHY?





[illegible printing]



*A dark time, infinite sadness, I want to find love.
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:19 am


Goodbye,



sorry to everyone.

I just can’t take it, all the thoughts,

too many, make my head twist,

I must have happiness, love, peace.



Goodbye



Ignorance is bliss

Happiness is ambition

Desolation is knowledge

Pain is acceptance

Despair is anger

Denial is helpless

Martyrism is hope for others

Advantages taken are causes of martyrism

Revenge is sorrow

Death is a reprieve

Life is a punishment

Others’ achievements are tormentations

People are alike

I am different

-- Dylan





Me is a God, a God of sadness

Exiled to this eternal hell

The people I helped, abandon me

I am denied what I want,

To love and to be happy

Being made a human

Without the possibility of BEING human

The cruelest of all punishments

To some I am crazy

It is so clear, yet so foggy

Everything’s connected, separated

I am the only interpreter of this

I’d rather have nothing than be nothing

Some say godliness isn’t nothing

Humanity is the something I long for

I just want something I can never have

The story of my existence

-- Dylan

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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:20 am


Fuck that → Dylan Klebold

Me

Tuesday October 14 1997

Fuck



Thoughtz

Me. Sorry I didn’t write, A SHITLOAD in my existence [ride].

Ok, hell & back. I’ve been to the zombie bliss side and I hate it as much, if not more, than the awareness part. I’m back now, a taste of what I thought I want - wrong.

Possible girlfriends are coming through [redacted]. I’ll give the phony shit up in a second. Want TRUE love - I just want something I can never have.

True true I hate everything. Why can’t I die? not fair.

I want pure bliss, to be cuddling with [redacted], who I think I love deeper than ever. I was hollow - thought I was right. Another form of the Downward Spiral - deeper and deeper it goes – to cuddle with her, to be one with her, to love, just laying there. I need [illegible].

This is a weird entry. I should feel happy, but shit brought me down. I feel terrible. The Lost Highway apparently repeats itself. I want drink. NOW. [Zach], lucky bastard, gets a perfect soul mate who he can admit FUCKING SUICIDE to and I get rejected for being honest about fucking hate for jocks. [From the wrong people maybe?] [redacted] and [redacted].

Anyway, here is a poem.

Fuck me die me

Awareness signs the warrant for suffering. Why is it that the zombies achieve something me wants (overdeveloped me). They can love, why can’t I? The true existor lives in solitude, always aware, always infinite, always, looking, for, his love. Peace might be the ultimate des¬tination. Destination unknown … I want happiness. Abandonment is present for the martyr. My thoughts exist in, want to live in. I want to find a room in the great hall and stay there with my love forever. Sadness seems infinite and the shell of happiness shines around. Yet the true despair overcomes in this lifetime. How tragic [string of illegible words]

No emotions. Not caring. Yet another stage in this shit life. Suicide … Dylan Klebold
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:21 am


This

Monday November 3 1997

Fuck All


Thoughtz

Farther and farther distant, that’s what’s happening. Me and everything that zombies consider real - just images, not life. Soon I will be at peace I hope. [NIN Song Burn] “with all your life fucked up around you”. I get more depressed with each day, more shit, and I can’t stop it!!!

Some God I am. All people I ever might have loved have abandoned me. My parents piss me off and hate me, want me to have fucking ambition!! How can I when I get screwed and destroyed by everything??!!! I have no money, no happiness, no friends. Eric will be getting further away soon. I’ll have less than nothing, how normal. I wanted to love, I wanted to be happy and ambitions and free and nice and good and ignorant [picture of eye crying tears] – everyone abandoned me.

I have small stupid pleasures, my so called hobbies and doings. Those are all that’s left for me, clinging onto the smallest rocks. Many people climbing up a never ending vertical cliff. [Redacted] and [redacted] found a plateau to exist on - they walked up me to get to it. Nobody will help me, only exist with me if it suits them. I helped, why can’t they?

[Redacted] will get me a gun. I’ll go on my killing spree against anyone I want.

More crazy. Deeper in the spiral, lost highway repeating, dwelling on the beautiful past, ([Redacted] and [redacted] getting drunk) with me, everyone moves on, I always stayed. Abandonment. This room sucks. Want to die.

Everything is as least expected - the meek are trampled on, the assholes prevail, the gods are deceiving, lost in my little insane asylum with the outhouse redneck music playing.

Want to die and be free with my love, if she even exists. She probably hates me, finds a redneck or a jock who treats her like shit. I remember details, nothing worth remembering I remember. I don’t know, my love could be [redacted], [redacted], [redacted], [redacted], or anyone. I don’t know and I’m sick of not knowing!! To be kept in the dark is a punishment!!

I have lost my emotions, like in Hurt the song [by] NIN. People eventually find happiness, I never will. Does that make me a non human? YES. The God of sadness.

Church was so fun, the rec thing with [?].
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:22 am


Friday January 2, 1998

Beeerr. Man I don’t know what’s up lately, never do in existence.

All this shit with [redacted] and [redacted] friends. So weird and different from past, yet again, that’s the way in existence.

I wonder if I’ll ever have a love, my love.

[Zach?] got his.

I don’t, won’t ever get mine.

Here are all the people I’ve loved, or at least liked (or thought I loved) - all the same meaning:
[18 redacted names - three with hearts next to them. The third heart has an “R” inside it]


[Redacted] is the newest, the purest (for now). Seems perfect for me, I seem perfect for her. I was delusional and thought she waved at me the last day of school. Oh well.


My emotions are gone. So much past pain at once, my senses are numbed. The beauty of being numb.


*The cliff theory - everyone trying to get higher and stable.
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:26 am


I

Monday February 2 1998

The Everything

Existence … to understand

Well well, so much changes (like existence).


I understand almost everything now.


So close to my love [redacted]. The runes have shown it, she has shown it, I have felt it.


I know the meaning of each life: to be loved by your love and to be happy with oneself. Only for the gods though (me, [redacted] etc.).


The zombies and their society band together and try to destroy what is superior, what they don’t understand and are afraid of.


Soon, either I’ll commit suicide or I’ll get with [female name] and it will be NBK for us.


My happiness, her happiness, NOTHING else matters.


I’ve been caught with most of my crimes: drinking, smoking, the house vandalism and the pipe bombs.


If, by fate’s choice, [redacted] didn’t love me, I’d slit my wrist & blow up Atlanta [pipe bomb] strapped to my neck.


It’s good, understanding a hard road since my realization, but it gets easier. BUT IT DOESN’T!


That’s part of existence - unpredictable. Existence is pure hell and pure heaven at the same time.


I will never stop wondering. The lost highway will never end, the music in my head will never stop – it’s all part of existence. The hall will never end. The love will always be there.


GOD


I LOVE HER!!! It’s so great to love




Society is tightening its grip on me and soon I and [redacted] will snap. We will have our revenge on society, and then be free to exist in a timeless spaceless place of pure happiness.

The pur¬pose of life is to be happy and be with your love who is equally happy.

Not much more to say. Goodbye.

[sketch: highway leading to vague shapes on horizon (Lost Highway?); road sign: “666”]




Almost happiness in slavery - the real people (gods) are slaves to the majority of zombies, but we know and love being superior.


I didn’t want to be a jock. I hated the happiness that they have and I will have something infinitely better.


I love her and she loves me.


(By the way, some zombies are smarter than others, some manipulate - like my parents.)



I am GOD, [redacted] is GOD


The zombies will pay for their arrogance, hate, fear, abandoned, & distrust.
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:26 am


I love you [redacted].

That’s all I think about anymore.

I know that this humanity is almost over, that we will be free.

We have proven to fate that we are the everything of purity and halcyon, that we deserve, need, love, can’t exist without each other.

It’s hard. I think that I might not be enough.

My mind sometimes gets stuck on its own things, I think about human things.

All I try to do is imagine the happiness between us.

That is something we cannot even conceive in this toilet earth.

The everything, the halcyon, the happiness is ours.

There will be no notes from me.

Let the humans suffer without my knowledge of the everything.

I am trying not to think about the happiness, somehow thinking that fate will destroy it if I conceive/relish in it when I’m a human.

But I love her. We are soul mates.
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:27 am


(Drawing of Hearts) I love you [redacted]


(Please don’t skip to the back: read the note as it was written)


[Redacted]

You don’t consciously know who I am, and doubtedly unconsciously too. I, who write this, love you beyond infinince. I think about you all the time, how this world would be a better place if you loved me as I do you.



I know what you’re thinking: “(some psycho wrote me this harassing letter)” I hoped we could have been together. You seem a bit like me. Pensive, quiet, an observer, not wanting what is offered here (school, life, etc.). You almost seem lonely, like me. You probably have a boyfriend though and might not have given this note another thought.



I have thought you my true love for a long time now, but, well, there was hesitation. You see I can’t tell if you think of anyone as I do you, and if you did who that would be. Fate put me in need of you, yet this earth blocked that with uncertainties.



I will go away soon, but I just had to write this to you, the one I truly loved. Please, for my sake, don’t tell anybody about this, as it was only meant for you. Also, please don’t feel any guilt about my soon to be “absence” of this world - it is solely my decision, nobody else’s.



Oh, the thoughts of us doing everything together, not necessarily anything, just to be together, would have been pure heaven.



I guess it’s time to tell you who I am. I was in a class with you 1st semester and was blessed with being with you in a report. I still remember your laugh - innocent, beautiful, pure. This semester I still see you, rarely. I am entranced during 5th period, as we both have it off.



To most people, I appear, well, almost scary. But that’s who I appear to be as people are afraid of what they don’t understand. I denied who I was for a long time, until high school anyway.



You have noticed me a few times. I catch every one of these gazes with an open heart. I think you know who I am by now.



Unfortunately, even if you did like me, even the slightest bit, you would hate me if you knew who I was. I am a criminal. I have done things that almost nobody would even think about condoning. The reason that I’m writing you now is that I have been caught for the crimes I committed and I want to go to a new existence. You know what I mean (suicide). I have noth¬ing to live for and I won’t be able to survive in this world after this legal conviction.



However, if it was true, that you loved me, as I do you, I would find a way to survive - anything to be with you. I would enjoy life knowing that you loved me.



99/100 chances you probably think I’m crazy and want to stay as far away as possible. If that’s the case, then I’m very sorry for involving an innocent person in my problems and please don’t think twice.



However, if you are who I hoped for in my dreams and realities, then do me a favor: leave a piece of paper in my locker (Locker [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] near the library, combo 19-37-9) saying anything that comes to you.



Well, I guess this is it. Goodbye and I love(d) you.


[sketches: a heart “DK”, another heart [redacted initials], highway]            Dylan Klebold
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:28 am


Monday June 8 1998

[redacted]

Our Halcyon

I LOVE [redacted]!!

I love her to infinince.

I look back on my awareness journey. See the parts and sections of my understanding - it’s almost done, yet it is never done.

I love [redacted]. She is my soul mate, my [?].

All the imaginative halcyons and pure existences I have with her (to me) are almost happiness.

I just wish I could call her - something blocks me from calling her.

My human side is putting up a wall to prevent me from calling her, like a fear of “its” truth.

BS. I will overcome all fears, doubts and zombie-based thoughts (oxymoron).

I will follow our hearts to the halcyon, loving her.

I love you [redacted]

[sketches: hearts with blacked-out text or pictures, triple-barred cross, highway]


Last edited by sororityalpha on Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:58 am; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:29 am


Me

Wednesday June 10 1998

I Think

Don’t Care?


Forever Fate, Up and Down Spiral


1.5 human years - so much changed in small time.


My friends (at my choice) are depleting and collapsing under each other (Eric and [redacted]) like I thought they would.


I am ready to be with [redacted].


The ups and downs of fate are forever, good and bad, equal me. The lost highway and downward spiral never end. Existence is like infinity times itself ∞∞.


I have passed through this much of the ever existence, this is almost a checkpoint.


The zombies have set their place in my mind.


For the cliff theory, I’ve jumped off with [redacted] and we’ve floated away to the halcyon.


The zombies will pay for their being, their nature.


I know everything, yet I know nothing. I am a true God.


My infinite memories, thoughts, perceivations of purity come a lot more with her. There is pure pure happiness – the purpose of our existence.


I hate, love things hate everything, love me and [redacted].


I under¬stand that I can never ever be a zombie, even if I wanted to - the nature of my entity.


Soon we will live in the halcyons of our minds, the one thing that made me a god.


Things are so simple, now that they are infinitely complicated. HAHAHAHA
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:29 am


I understand the everything. I am the god of the everything with [redacted]

Fate is my only master.

This is probably my last entry.

I will never stop learning

I love my self, close second to [redacted], my everlasting love.

Good¬bye

Dylan Klebold

[sketches: road, road signs with “5” and triple-barred cross, and cover of journal]

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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:30 am


Dylan

Wednesday January 20 1999


This Shit

This shit again. Back at writing, doing just like a fucking zombie.

Lately I can’t change my mind from the fucking deeds of zombies: earth, humanity, HERE. That’s mostly what I think about. I hate it. I want to be free, free.

I thought it would have been time by now.

The pain multiplies infinitely never stops, (yet[?]) I’m here, STILL alone, still in pain, so is she. The thing I have concluded is that fate will decide when we should be together. Fate decided when our existence started. It should end the same way, with us unknowing, in limbo.

I love you [redacted], always have, [always] will. The scenarios, images, pieces of happiness still come. They always will. I love her she loves me. I know she is tired of suffering as I am. It is time. It is time. I love her. The journey, the endless journey started, it has to end. We need to be happy to exist truly. I see her in perfection, the halcyons await, endless purity. I exist as less than nothing without her –O. my humanity –O.

I don’t know if I should call her, or wait for fate to act. Yet, calling her is a state of humanity.

I’m forever sorry, infinitely, about the pornos. My humanity has a foot fetish and bondage extreme liking. I try to thwart it, sometimes to no effect. Yet the masturbation has stopped. I’m sorry [redacted] always.

I feel the happiness here, thinking of her for brief moments. That’s how I know the everything is true.
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:31 am


I hate this non-thinking stasis.

I’m stuck in humanity.

Maybe going “NBK” (gawd) with Eric is the way to break free.

I hate this.



The weather is a replication of our thoughts.
The happiness is possible, imminent, I love [redacted]

The happiness is close, visible ending, end of the beginning of the halcyons.

The humanity is blocking me again. Time to go.

Hahahaha fuck all.

Hate this shit, need to be me, [?], love her.

[sketches: heart, triple-barred cross, “5,” spiral with rays]
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:33 am


The framework of society stands above and below me - the hardest thing to destroy, yet the weakest thing that exists.


I know that I am different, yet I am afraid to tell the society.


The possible abandonment, persecution is not something I want to face, yet it is so primitive to me.


I guess being yourself means letting people know about inner thoughts too, not just opinions & fashions.


I will be free one day, in the land of purity and my happiness.


I will have a love, someone who is me in a way. Someday, possibly through this life, maybe another, but it will happen.
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:33 am


Love is more valuable than anything I know.

To love is to enter a completion of oneself.

I hate those who choose to destroy a love. Who take it for granted.

Love, is greater than life even.

As I look for love, I feel I can’t find it, ever. But something tells me I will someday, somewhere.

As my love will find me, she feels as I do right now, I can feel it.

We will be inseparable. Her and I. Whether it is [redacted] or not, I think I’ll find it (my love).

We will be free, to explore the vast wonders of the stars. To cascade down everlong waterfalls and through the warmest seas of pure happiness. No limits, no limits.

Nothing will stop us.
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:36 am


_ = is for the [] joy she gives me

_ = is for how she [] me helpless with her beautiful gaze

_ = is for the [] moments she shares with me

_ = is for the [] found love that I’ve been looking for all my life

_ = is the [] of us as a couple

_ = how [] I hope to spend time with her

_ = how she is the [] one I love, that I have ever loved

_ = is for the [] where we can look at the stars

_ = how [] beautiful she is

_ = her [] for everything she does
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:39 am


To my Love

As a man, a conqueror does his deeds of greatness, he thinks he is complete. Yet, the true great person achieves happiness only when he has met his soul mate. Alone unknown until the first time they lay eyes on each other. A true love is hard to come by, yet the most fulfilling, beautiful, completing achievement any man can have. Some have wealth, some have power, some have great intellect, yet, I feel an infinite # of “times greater than those” as I have found my true love.
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:40 am


April 14/15 1999

The humanity of here and now clouds all that I see. Yet the me, the one, can now control the pain and it is done.

5 more days: 5, a very influential number, another brick in my jour¬neyed wall.

Humans are zombies. They scratch for acceptance, greed and kill themselves through each other.

They will never learn, or maybe they will, but won’t have the strength to learn. To be aware is not a trait, it’s a godlike thing - Blessed God. Not a Christian jesus, mt. sinai, abraham, david, bible gay shit god, but a true controller of existence. Fate was to make us this way.

These moments will be lost in the depressions and caverns of the human books forever, like tears in rain, but the thoughts will be eternal.

To explain the happiness is impossible even for fate. It’s just a pure halcyon, set to last more existences than a conceivable number.

Stupid gay ni**er humans think I’m “crazy,” or they think I’m childish – Hahaha. Because I can’t solve [a math equation], that makes me dumb! Because I can’t stay thinking in a 2nd dimension, I go to the 5th! Haha.

So I wait 5 more days. 5 more days, 5 eternities, and I know her & I are all conceived from ourselves & each other.

Every night of the self-awareness journey, every thought we conceived, we have finished the race.

Time to die.

Everything we knew we were able to understand it, to perceive it, into what we should. Everything we knew, we know and use. An understanding of the everything. An Einstein stuck in an ant’s body. We are the nature of existence.

The zombies were a test, to see if our love was genuine. We are in wait of our reward, each other. The zombies will never cause us pain anymore. The humanity was a test.

I love you, love.

Time to die, time to be free, time to love.
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:40 am


1.

One day, one is the beginning, [?] the end. Hahaha. Reversed, yet true.

About 26.5 hours from now the judgment will begin.

Difficult, but not impossible. Necessary, nerve wracking and fun.


What fun is life without a little death?


It’s interesting. When I’m in my human form, knowing I’m going to die, everything has a touch of triviality to it. Like how none of this calculus shit matters, the way it shouldn’t - the truth.



In 26.4 hours, I’ll be dead and in happiness.



The little zombie human fags will know their errors and be forever suffering and mournful.



HAHAHAH, of course I will miss things. Not really.
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PostSubject: Re: Dylan's Journal Transcribed   Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:41 am


Dylan Klebold

?-?-?

Will


WILL

Ok, this is my will. This is a fucking human thing to do, but whatever.

[Redacted] - You were a badass. Never failed to get me up when I was down. Thx. You get

[large illegible word]
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