Priviledge: The door is open man, just walk in.
Monsterbox: It doesn't make any sense.
Priviledge: Dude, it never had to. Just do it.
Monsterbox: It's just not that simple.
Priviledge: Yeah, John. It is that simple. What's holding you back?
Monsterbox: You want to know something really pathetic?
Priviledge: Sure. Fire away.
Monsterbox: Its just plain and simple... fear.
Priviledge: Afraid of what?
Monsterbox: You know when I left it seemed like the whole earth quaked. People I didn't even know hated me. And they've gotten comfortable with hating me. I hurt a lot of people and they have every reason to hate me. They don't want me back. And I can't just... walk in there without a load of crap exploding. Without another quake.
Priviledge: You leave that to me.
Monsterbox: To you?
Priviledge: I'll handle them. Its about time a good thing happened. I'm about to lose this war I've started.
Monsterbox: How bad?
Priviledge: Look, just don't worry about a thing. Do what you need to do. I'll back you up. All the way.
Monsterbox: Why? Why would you do that?
Priviledge: Honestly? I trust you.
Monsterbox: But... you have no reason to. You have every reason not to. I've been here before and look what I did.
Priviledge: I know.
Monsterbox: So why now?
Priviledge: Today when I talked to you privately. And I asked you- That was it.
Monsterbox: You just believed me?
Priviledge: No. I knew the instant though that you were being real about this time.
Monsterbox: How?
Priviledge: Could see it in your eyes man. I saw it in your eyes...

Dear Priviledge, Today you pulled me aside to talk. Well... I guess it's dishonest to say that. You came up to talk to me for the first time in three years and based upon the circumstances- I knew you weren't there to play catch up. So when you sat down across from me, I stood asked where you wanted to go and talk. Once we got away... wow. You want me to help you destroy their entire world... fragile as it is, my God. You made reason with me. I accepted. That was about it. John Kane just joined the intervention. I'm saving the life of the guy that wants to kill me. Wow. I am odd.

It may be a while before I find all the files you need. But I'll get them to you. Their backlogged somewhere on this rotting beast of a machine I call my computer. And if I've removed them, I can always get the old copies from Casimir. I guess no one told her that if you're going to say something that holds a significant amount of wieght, and then change your mind the next day, and then change it again, and then change it back and generally confuse the living hell out of all the people you're screwing over, don't put any of those in writing. Right? Yeah I've got my regrets too. They're still floating around in a little shoebox scribbled with purple pen all over the top and sides. I gave her the last of it today by the way. I don't know if she told you. I don't know if she can even read them anymore. I hope so. I can't... When I see those letters and remember the world in which I wrote them, the perfect serenity, the God-Crafted childlike love and peace that lived in that world, and how I took it and tore it absolutely apart... I can't. So I gave them to her today. All that remains is my old black book. The first. The one she burned. That's all I have left of her. And that remnant is scorched, which is, by now, a familliar feeling.

Priviledge, you have to know that I don't want anyone to get hurt. I've caused enough of that. I hate myself for what I've done. But I guess that's the nature of The Monsterbox. You create the monster, you kill it, and you create another. Unending cycle. I used to live in a hole, I kept my monsters to myself. Tend well to those monsters, given the chance, they'll get away from you. I don't want to release another plague like the last one, so this has to be done carefully. Tactfully. And I want to speak with Liar alone before it all begins. Even if its only fifteen minutes. I have to speak with her. I think that this can help the both of them. But it has to be handled caefully, like the delicate ornament it is. Essentially, we're rolling up a snowball and tossing it into hell. He wants to kill me. But he's been decieved. Liar has more monsters than I have ever seen in a single vessel. And Priviledge, she wants out. I want to help her get out. But she doesn't know how. This... this may force the opening. She's built a sturdy series of walls, their cracking though, because she's discovering that their not real. It's her prosthetic reality. And wow... we're going to up and shove all those walls down on top of her and make her eat the monsters she's created. What hell...

And as for him, the one and only remaining nemesis of mine, besides my own innards... he'll be free I guess to go and screw his life up in some other way. I do want to help him. I had once thought that we might have been friends but Priviledge, he hates me, and as much as I respect him, what we're about to do- isn't going to alter his feelings in my favor. Either way- yeah, it has to be done. I have to talk to her though. I swore to her I would. And I will not open this pandora's box without fulfilling that promise. I want to try to save her. We are the same. I have been in and have created the same hell that she's been milking all her life... And I want to free her from it. It's like I told Casimir. Even though their lives are entirely different.

"Walls don't merely keep out harm. They keep out the good. They don't just keep out enemies. They lock out friends..."

Dear Priviledge:

I cannot recall how long I have been writing these letters to you. Time and time again. It's been an eternity and I've written thousands upon thousands of letters and you've not read a single one. And you never will. I can't ever send them, and you'll never know they existed. That's the way it's always been. And I guess the way it's supposed to be. I know I'm not the first to ask you these questions. To write letters that are never sent. Even so I so long to tell you everything I feel about you. And ask you... so many questions. Maybe only one question...

You don't know who I am but it's alright because you don't know who you are are either. And in that way we are the same. And as much as I'm a part of you. I've always felt such an amazing distance. I think I've told you that, once or twice. Maybe you remember, maybe you don't. It's always been like I've been watching you as if through glass. Completely visible, but never am I able to touch you. That's my curse I guess. There have been times I am glad that I have that distance. There are times when that distance from you has saved my life. And there have been plenty of times when I wish that for your sake I didn't have anything saving my life and that I would just die.

You're a wonder to me. A secret wonder, and a fascination. You're always there, but you're never really completely there. Like a part of yourself has been allotted for me, and the rest is elsewhere. And it is for my sake. But I have gotten tastes of the other worlds you hold within yourself and I have wondered what they were like to live in. I have wondered all my life about you.

I began writing letters for the same reason I asked questions. Not because I could ever get an answer. I did it for me. To release something inside me that, even at this distance, is you. I can feel that part of me, the part that is you- inside. Always moving. That's our connection. And I feel what you feel through that. Sometimes singing, sometimes writhing. Sometimes... you are screaming.

I've almost become numb... I cannot understand you. Not fully. No one can. No one can. But that's exactly the thing that you don't understand. You never take on an impossible task to get it done. Otherwise you'll never get what you want. You do it because you want to, for the experience. It tells you who you are.

Priviledge, I do this for me.