The story so far:
Extraneous. As in, stuff outside the important stuff. As in distractions and the things I fill my mind with in order to avoid thinking about the things I should be doing. Like shooting that guy. He’s a, how do you put it politely? A manipulator. But I don’t mean a flimflam man or swindler. He’s not a politician. He’s more like a puppeteer. He can get inside your head and control your body. Make you do things extraneous to your purpose on this planet. Which is possibly why I haven’t shot him. Because all I can do right now is sit in this chair and pet this cat. My gun is placed very precariously on the armrest. A thing I would never do under normal circumstances. If that cat were to move, the gun might fall, then I’d have to bend down to get it… well you can imagine the complications. But I have to clear my mind. That’s the thing I can see clearly. If I can’t get rid of the extraneous, I’ll die.


'Extraneous' statistics: (click to read)

