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Diary of Marnie Wilson

Posted: Thu Sep 04, 2025 1:43 pm
by Chaser1
Marnie Wilson.jpg
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Have you ever thought about the last time you played pretend with your friends as a kid? Most people don't remember because they never knew it would be the last time. If I would have known, then I would have savoured the moment; remembering every detail of being Andrew Wilson, my great great grandfather. One of the heroes of a time long ago.

Andrew Wilson was responsible finding safety from the 'Time of Chaos.' His brother, Carl, established a small settlement, to the south, known as Camp Wilson. I figure that I'll visit there next. Yet, my great great granddad established some town, called Fort Hammer. I've been searching for it for the past five years. His grandson had moved from Fort Hammer to the Baronies, where I was born. Mom died in childbirth. Maybe I have relatives in Hammer. Grandpa died of old age when I was just a baby, which upset my dad. In any case, with dad passing away, there's nothing left in the baronies for me.

My dad, Colt, was tragically killed in a racing accident across the desert. It's hard to remember my last moment with him. I think he took me to eat at the local market; right before his race. It's all such a blur though. If only we knew each time we'd be doing something for the very last time, we could just embrace those moments. So, now I embrace every moment.

Since then, I did research on our genealogy. Our family tree dates back to Andy Wilson. A man known for discovering ley lines that intersect, creating a sort of zone of mystical energies. Some say he was a great conjurer. Many believe that he was in the favor of gods, who could create areas of solitude, keeping out supernatural, alien and demonic forces who aren't native to the area. Rumor has it that Camp Wilson is somewhat of a paradise and that Fort Hammer is more of an undisturbed agricultural haven.

So here I am, in this small weapons trading post called Rifle Ridge. There are two streets of shops, dedicated to trade and travel. There's the Double Barrel Inn, where I'm staying and writing this now. A local militia, who deal with trouble. Two decently maintained paved roads and a set of historical railroad tracks that haven't corroded away. I'll have to come back here when I have more time. I feel like there's more history to uncover here.

Dad used to tell me about stories that his grandfather would tell about his own father. About a time when all of these things were still fairly new, and some old. Flying cars, no disease, longer life expectancies, safety... They called it the Golden Age, even back then. I wonder how bad it was before then? There were no wars and the world is actually round! Quite a few people don't believe it, but it is! Just look at the moon.

So, if Andy Wilson started Fort Hammer, then how many other places did he save? He was a member of an elite fighting force, only known as NEMA. I don't know what it stands for, I just know that some of it became the Coalition States. Look at them now.

The Coalition States keep people safe, but I think that some of the powers that be abuse their authority. Stories of entire towns being leveled in the name of humanity. Innocent people who're still affected by random pockets of radiation, develop genetic mutations, branding them as outcasts, at best. Most are drug out somewhere secluded and 'neutralized.'

I've had two run ins with Coalition squads. The first one wasn't so bad. They fed me and gave me a safe place to sleep. The second group, well, they stole half of my belongings and almost killed me. If it wasn't for my knack for seeing danger, then they would have gotten me. I'm sure they're still trying to find me. They'd be crazy to follow me this far north.

So, without my trusty mountaineer. I'm stuck riding this horse, which I've appropriately named Mule "asshole" Wilson. I was told that he had a "personality" by the stable master. He should have said, "If you want an animal that will challenge you, ridicule you, make your day harder, then this jackass is it!" all with that charming sales pitch.

So, Rifle Ridge... I wonder why they call this town that. I walked Mule into town, cus he was tired of me sitting on him, only to be accosted by multiple snaggle toothed vendors with bad breath. Most trying to either hire me for carnal favors or sucker me into their "backroom of treasures." I guess there is a high demand for comfort women. I guess being twenty-one years old has its disadvantages for me. I handled it well, I think.

I spent the last of my money on food, ammunition and some information. One of the old timers knows of a man, named Dusty, who can be my guide in Fort Hammer. I just have to find him when I get there. I just need to find the town. The rumor at one of the two saloons, is that it's near a trading town known as Smith Falls. The map shows that it's quite a ways away. It'll take a week if I'm lucky, but more than likely longer.

The bar was fun. I didn't drink much. It's too hard to trust the men, and some women, not to try and medicate me with a 'free drink.' Billiards was fun. I won every game, winning me the money that I used earlier. I met an intriguing man, named Alec. He had a repair bot friend, named Robbie, who swears that he was once human. The robot did definitely talk more human than most bots. Alec was searching for a few friends. The only name that I can remember is Drake, who was some high up soldier in a personal war against the Coalition. I let Alec get me a drink. I hope that I run into him again.

I forgot to mention the wolves following me for the past three days. They never attack but I think that they want Mule. I could be wrong but those animals are smart. They seem to already know which direction that I'm heading. Some of the townsfolk here had to scare them away, but they didn't go far. I swear, the further north that I go, the more bizarre and dangerous this trip has become.

Anyways, it's time for bed. Gnight.

Diary of Marnie Wilson

Posted: Sun Sep 14, 2025 5:32 pm
by Chaser1
I had another bad dream last night. I saw a kid, probably about fifteen, get drug from his house while his mother was shot. Luckily, the kid literally disappeared before the sheriff or deputy shot his revolver, missing him.

Today was rather uneventful. It was mostly riding and avoiding the natives and other travelers. The terrain is more rocky than around Rifle Ridge. With less large predators, there are more snakes and dimensional beings than usual. So it's best to travel slow, for the sake of Asshole. Like he would ever walk near a snake, unless I told him not to.

I got to thinking about a chat I had with a scholar once. We discussed reality and how it consists of perspective and the conscious mind. What if we're all just reflections of someone else's dream? Like some fragment of someone's greater reality? Are our dreams a reality for another consciousness? Does it make it any less real or are we discriminatory towards that ideology? What constitutes a person's conscious reality to be a greater priority to exist than another's? Some would argue that this newly created reality as an extension of its creator's subconsciousness, thus, making him, her or it the god of that realm. But what if that realm has a life of its own? Take for example that many believe that once a baby is conceived, that it has its own life and rights. I believe that too. A parent could argue that they'd created that baby and therefore have the right to take it away. Does this same philosophy apply towards a reflection of one person's subconscious reality? Does each full dream create a near infinite number of new realities? New dimensions?

Maybe, I'm thinking too much into it. I ate a cactus today. I'm pretty sure that that's why I was tripping and thinking about the intricacies in the laws of nature. Which bodes the question; are there dimensions where the laws of nature, the laws of physics and the laws of time no longer exist? Well, that would break reality. Well... my reality. Could you imagine a realm where time didn't exist? I guess, in a sense, it would be a realm of just pure knowledge, unscathed by time. No cause and effect, just data. Physics would break down. Reactions, velocity, energy, inertia, light and even how to conceive Newton force energy requires time to calculate. Even potential energy would have no concept. It would be like trying to prove that time travel exists via gravitational time dilation or via breaking the mass energy equivalence formula by traveling faster than light. Without time, it's impossible to calculate the speed of light, which is in distance over time. So without time, it's a non-concept. A dimension without time would just be existence on a different plane of consciousness.

Maybe that's why anything that falls into a black hole never returns? Time is either broken or doesn't exist. What if falling into a black hole is just falling into another universe and impossible to return? Some speculate that Earth is currently falling into one and that reality exists differently here than most places. Some speculate that gravity creates time and that visiting outside of our universe is impossible because the force of the gravity is too great. Maybe all of the stars, millions of light years away, are actually just a few miles away, but gravitational time distortion creates the impossible distance? Any intelligence watching from outside of the gravitational force could watch our existence from now to the end of our planet within the blink of an eye. Maybe they're literally a few miles from our solar system and watching us blink out of existence, yet, gravity won't let us see outside. Time dilation at its finest.

We talked about the astral realm. A realm where time and tangible space can be manipulated. Where people can travel between our realm and astral realm, even spatially. They're interconnected somehow. Some great multi-dimensional event, sometime in ancient history, must have nearly merged the two, allowing travel back and forth.

I'm lying here, inside my tent with Asshole's nose occasionally poking in to make sure I didn't leave him. This horse is beginning to grow on me. Mule still deserves his nickname, though. He tossed me off into a stream around noon. So I splashed him. He enjoyed it, which made me even more upset with him.

I think I need to find more intellectual types, fellow scientists or other scholars to document more of the history of my family. Before I left Rifle Ridge, the locals warned me that a Coalition unit was spotted around this area, so I need to keep to my lantern light only inside the tent and no fires. If they were to find this manuscript, then I'd be gunned down on the spot.

I've often been curious about travel to other realms. What precautions would I need to make? I'd need the major necessities; oxygen, water, energy for heat and food. After that, it would be research and making sure that I could get back. I remember watching this show where they had studied psychics. They were discovering that they'd unlocked parts of their brain capable of controlling a reality of what's around them. Power over fire, lightning, ice, thought, pain, perception, themselves and even move between dimensions, each, at the power of thought. To connect conscious will over an aspect of reality? What if they could control them all? They would be omnipotent, essentially a god.

I'm almost done with my cigarette. I ate the last of the pheasant soup from Rifle Ridge. I think this journey to Fort Hammer is going to take longer than I thought. At least I have Asshole and myself to keep me company.

Gnight

Re: Diary of Marnie Wilson

Posted: Tue Sep 30, 2025 11:32 am
by Chaser1
"Only in great tragedy do we produce great heroes," or so they say. I guess great great grandpa and his brother were two of these heroes. I mean, they both established their own safe communities. I wonder what hardships they both had to endure. I wonder how many sacrifices and heartbreaks they'd endured. I wonder why no historical records ever existed.

Today was a hard day. A bandit group and a small coalition squad were battling in the wastelands. The radiation readings were higher than normal, so I had to wear my environmental suit. Because of my suit's bright colors, the coalition noticed me and were shooting at me. The bandits forced them into retreating. Lucky for me.

I spent most of my time trying to keep Asshole on low ground to avoid being seen. I only made it about ten miles today. The bandits made camp about two miles away, so I have to camp with no fire tonight. There was an aurora over the northern horizon. That should keep them distracted. They look like either banditos or part of the Pecos Empire. Looks like they're burying their dead tonight. They won't be in a good mood.

I'm going to have to take the long way around. Who knows what the bandits would do to me and Asshole. Of course, the coalition would shoot me once they searched my stuff, which they almost always do. So, I may have to head northeast instead of northwest. The last I heard, there are less Dbees but more harsh wilderness. If it gets cold, then I may have to double back to Rifle Ridge. Luckily, there is an underground spring about fifty feet from my tent. The sound of the splashing water is relaxing, but I need to pee twice as much. I'll have to use my iodine tablets to make sure the water is safe.

I'm going to need a new pencil in the next few weeks. This one is almost half gone. I'm tired and I think that I should have loaded up on more supplies. Maybe one of the local tribes will be hospitable and trade with me.

Anyways, I need rest.
Gnight.

Re: Diary of Marnie Wilson

Posted: Mon Mar 23, 2026 1:42 pm
by Chaser1
Well, it's been a few months since my last entry.

I was forced to turn back and come back to Rifle Ridge. Between the harsh environment, the Coalition patrols, approaching cold season and Asshole, I wouldn't have made it. The natives did what they could to help but I didn't want to spend the better part of a year inside a teepee, trying to stay warm.

I've scored a job here in Rifle Ridge as a dishwasher and swamper. It pays the bills and feeds me and Asshole. I met a nice man, named Lucien. He's a hunter and trapper and has gained the respect of most of the locals. I hope I see him tonight when I go to work. I think he likes me. The best part is that Asshole likes his horse, Larry. They've become the best of friends. Well, I have to get ready for work. Maybe I can convince him to journey to Fort Hammer sometime.

Until next time!