“Unfortunate, passionate people tend to fill our ranks. They are driven by their desperation, and that desperation informs that passion. It’s not a surprise, as often times the people who join us already feel like there is little left to lose, so why not lose yourself for the cause. Those most deeply embedded in our ranks have given up – everything.
The Volkovs who have committed to this level of service strip themselves of their name, their family, their friends, their personality. They have to in order to protect them. They have to in order to protect themselves. There is only so long you can hold on to yourself after giving up so much. After weeks, months, years, they don’t remember. They don’t remember the accent they used to pronounce their own name – what was it again? Was it Joann, no that was the face after. Or maybe before…? Time will allow you to forget many things. What you don’t forget is the feelings. The secrets that hurt. The ones that tear and gnaw at you, begging, screaming, clawing to escape. Who knows what difference that one piece of knowledge could make to the right person – but of course that is the point.
That is why it cannot escape your lips.
Trivial things can gain meaning if you allow it, and sometimes we need to allow ourselves that kindness. We take these scorching secrets, and looking to unburden ourselves, we will cast them into the burning blue flames. We will watch the yellow tip of blue flame flicker, we will watch the smoke with flecks of parchment whirl into the starry sky, and we will remember that it is okay to forget.”
-An excerpt from a worn, but finely bound, blue book