I used to come here, the Wall, with the mindset in diminishing the humanity in me. This humanity of mine that was fabricating such an agonizing existence. However, that was before I covertly inducted into the furtive resistance. Now I have hope, now I have purpose. Not the role that Gilead had granted me, the one that made me a brainwashed walking baby bank. 

As for now, I must act as one of those lifeless British robot guards and accept that for now this is what it is. For now I must except the innocent bodies that are hung on that wall are for reasons of those I would never understand but must accept.
 

But how must I accept when every atom in me wants to scream, but is only limited to the void of my mind. Every time I see a new body on that wall… that damn wall.

“We should go back.”

    As I mentioned in my previous entry, the Commander and I have been fraternizing to a greater extent latterly. He told me stories of the past and plans of the future which made me envious, however fascinated all at once. I sat there and listened, both hands intertwined with one another, resting on my lap. Like a child, I was compelled by his captivating mind not realizing that people tend to stray from revealing the whole truth. ‘Why’ is a query of a century before this one, the only answer is that it is in his beings nature, our beings nature. 

The truth is as so, he is unhappy and he is desperate for companionship in the prison of a world that's his own doing. The truth is, that his selfishness has consumed him to a point to where he is blinded of his actions and only cares about satisfying needs of his own. I should have notice so before, if he sincerely cared for me, he would acknowledge the fact that he is putting me at risk with our meetings. The commander is a mirage, an optical illusion of a kindred spirit… a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Unfortunately I feel as though this will be my last entry. There’s no glue strong enough in the world left to hold me together anymore. I’m alone. I have finally realized just as much so. Serena Joy will find me out soon enough, and I do not plan on being here when she does. 

Nolite te bastardes carborundorum, 

Offred (previous)

    My guess is that you are alive and fertile. I’m not sure of how this will get to you or if it will ever get to you. I reckon you now understand. You understand now that what we had, before, was a luxury. And now that it’s gone, I'm curious my child, how do you feel? How do you feel that you sat around and did nothing as women's rights was slowly ripped away? No voting, holding property or jobs, reading… reading! We are no longer humans that breath the same air, or humans who bleed the same colour. What are they? What are we my child? If they have made you what I presume for you to be, I know exactly what you are. A set of ovaries and a womb is the only thing they see my dear. And if they don't, they throw you away like trash as they did me. Yes, I am where you think I am. The wretched Colonies.

You know me well my dear. These bastards can't kill me, but maybe the radiation will. They have given me this revolting grey dress to wear. But I’m sure it is nothing compared to that wine red dress of yours. Oh what I would do for a glass of wine right now.

I love you,

Mother

The girl in red, 

They thought as they slumbered in bed. 

Oh how easy it must be, 

For the girl in red,

There mustn’t have been a single tear she’s shed.

For what would she cry about?

She’s watched over, washed, and fed.

Oh how they didn’t know, 

That girl in red.

She was a rose,

That Gilead had plucked.

They removed her thorns, leaves, and means.

And now she is left stuck,

In a society of masquerade. 

Red costumes worn night and day,

From her responsibilities, she mustn't stray.

Oh the sorrow I feel,

For the girl

In red.