Wednesday, September 23. 1908.
My name is HaHarvé Harue. Of course, that is not my actual name, but the name I used for immigration. They don't exactly favour my people here—Ah, perhaps I should explain that first. I did not buy all of that ink for nothing. America is expensive.
I've imemigrated from Japan to America under an alias in hopes of better ground to exercise my phpsychological research. Psychology is the field I'm most interested in, you see—and it has been a common theme within my family. It is sort of akin to passing down a power, if you will. I have noticed the boom in psychological discoveries made and coined within America throughout the most recent decades, so I decided that this land is the most fit for the full potential of my profession. I hope my ancestors will be proud of me as I am them.
Getting into the country was not the dandiest process, however—I first studied English for the past decade or so in a prestigious institution. Of course, I'd known my dream since I was a boy. The vast majority of my ancestors deemed it destiny and agreed right away. Some of them were not particularly flfond of Americans, but that is to be expected. I studied my hardest from the beginning and quickly bebegan my journey to fluency in bilingualism
Second, of course, was the task of actually getting here. I boarded the Tango Maru about three years ago and emigrated. Before I had the chance to be overwhelmed by the vast America, there was a screening. It took about a few hours with specifically annoying questions I would rather not discern. To say the least, those who claim that immigration officers are innocent are liars. One such question, one on the tamer side, would be if I had a relative in the country. I, of course, didn't, and needed to lie. I am a very lucky man to have known a French woman with official citizenship here, or I may have been deported (hence the French name I chose; I'm quite ththe liar, aren't I? I came prepared). I pretended she was my wife and their faces scrunched up into such a tiny volume they looked like compressed balloons. They could not find anything to deter the claim, however, so I was let off in that regard. Marrital certificates are not the forte of this place, I presume. Anyhow, I planned to make this woman my actual wife as a way of thanks. To my dismay, it seems she has gone missing as of recently during a trip home to Marseille, France. I will have to hold off on American marriage for a few more years, it seems.
Through all of my hardships, I genuinely made it to AnAmerica nonetheless. I immediately sought out a job in psychology, though many were reluctant to hire me. There is the way I look, first of all, and the fact that I was far too humble. My favourite quirk of America, I find, is that you are allowed to boast about yourself. In Japan this would be considered irrationally rude, and nobody would consider you to even sweep their floors. However, once I discovered this about America, things became exponentially easier. I, as we all, have always been a selfish man at heart, and this felt like putting an old dog to rest. With the ability to weave my words, I quickly landed interviews with multiple companies and workplaces. BDue to the economic difference, my money was running low at this point, but I managed to secure a job I am satisfied with within the first three months of my stay. I have been working and living here for about three years to date. That brings us to the present.
Now, up to further speed. The topic this letter was initially going to solely cover. A few days prior to the writing of this, my colleague came to me with a new term he intends to bring to higher-ups in hopes of an official name for the condition. "Schizophrenia," he calls it. He derived the title from two Greek words, as to suggest a "split mind," or something or other. He calls it a splitting of the personality, in which there is one side of a person's personality in which they are functioning in society as we. The other half experiences strange phenomenons, like physically perceiving things that others do not. He says it is becoming far too common to be magic. Naturally, this title made no sense in being made any sort of official. For starters, this title can describe a vast majority of the insane. And, to branch off of that, to the general public, the insane are the insane. They are to be thrown into lunatic asylums and that is that. Our job as psychologists may be to study these people, but people are making no real profits from titles. My colleague could simply… use it as a name for personal study. Though I brought all of this up, he was still so adamant about the idea it was actually rather annoying, even by my standards. I was questioning so frequently within that minute how much attention one man could need that you might think I was obsessive.
So, consequently, I had to vocalize the most pressing question on my mind. Why?
This may have been the best question of my entire career. To be completely fair, that is probably at least half of the reason I am scribbling down what I am at once.
My question was met with a secret. SoSomething personal, intimate—something I was not supposed to know. And, as it turns out, my colleague was not supposed to know about this, either. But perhaps a little rebellion every once in a while isn't a crime. Well, it is—but it is a crime that may just improve everything I've ever known. The secret was this: an epidemic.
Not an epidemic of disease, however. Unless you would call this new "schizophrenia" a disease. This epidemic works more like… a hivemind, per se. You see, there have been hundreds of people breaking out with these "schizophrenic" delusions within the last few weeks or so. The icing atop the cake, though, is that they are all exhibiting the same behaviour. In the world of psychology, this would usually be normal—hence why diagnoses can exist at all—however, this is not behaviour within the realm of previously conceived possibility. This behaviour suggests that they all share thoughts; that they all know the same thing. That is where the hivemind analogy comes into play. It is not a general thought, either: the thought is wildly specific, the idea of one person. A girl, suggestibly. They call her "Exousia." Hundreds of people have been mentioning this Exousia already. Now, in all good reasoning, you could say that perhaps this is plausible. All of these people alike could have met the same ideal person perhaps in a film and in turn be collectively obsessed. That was the wide presumption between a few individuals a couple days prior. But just yesterday, something miraculous was discovered.
This "Exousia" epidenimic isn't limited to America.
This "schizophrenic" behaviour is traveling worldwide—it is not stopped by country, religion, language—there is no barrier. Exousia is everywhere. Only certain officials were meant to be fed this information, but people are beginning to let it slide. This can naturally be related to the fact that it cannot be contained for much longer. At the rate it has been described to me, hundreds of people exhibiting this behaviour will turn into thousands within weeks.
I am utterly interested, of course. I am taking it upon myself to document this situation to the best of my ability. As of the present, these "schizophrenic" individuals are being thrown into lunatic asylums left and right. Word among the asylum employees is that "Exousia" is the new scream word. It is outdoing "murder" at night. Is that not bizarre? I find it great.
Now, I have been describing "schizophrenia" in quotations this entire time because I would like to look more into it myself before settling with that word. Is it really usable? These split people who can see what others cannot is no longer scarce enough to be described by magic according to my colleague, but what other force could it be? I could understand if they were simply… mis-percepting. HoHowever, I find this to be entirely different. How can an entire group of people, not even restricted by language, all be vomiting the same information all over the place? Is it possible? How do they all know this information? Is it a natural human intention? Will this be all of us within due time? Is a hoax being spread worldwide that they have all caught air of? Thesse are all questions I wish to answer. I will work hard to do so.
Before I finish this letter, I would like to mention that the use of the word "you" is rather vague. I was initially intending on sending this home overseas, but as I am writing it I have come to find that idea rather foolish. The information in this letter, until a later date, is meant to be confidential. Sending this overseas could be completely illegal, and while I don't hate the idea, I am currently combatting any risk of getting deported. I will keep these letters as archives for the present.
Goodbye until tomorrow,