I cannot fathom the notion that the University Chaplain, Father David Connor, having been an adamant supporter of my assignment, is now preaching to the Council, and to the student body in general, that I am wreckless and dangerous. He says that I do not take proper precautions when handling darkfire and that I put myself at risk when carrying out my duties. There is, of course, a risk to my assignment, which I encountered in my pursuit of Darius Weller two years ago. But to say that I am irresponsible, and that I may have even corrupted myself with darkfire is outrageous. He may be a pious man, or so he would seem, but he knows nothing of my cartel-hunting profession. I may not have a full degree from a University. But I received the proper professional training in cartel-hunting and have certification to prove it.

Furthermore, when I snuck into a University Council meeting last night, the Chaplain, himself, came to the stand and called upon the Council to consider a measure that would require any University organization to be approved by University Affairs and to have at least one tenured staff member present to allow its functions to take place, justifying such a ridiculous measure with the events of 124 Mason Street. I had to contain myself when he blamed these events on "student wrecklessness" and deemed my efforts a waste of time. And a large number of the Council, majority or not I do not know, seemed to be eating this up.

I will admit, I have had a lot of angst, as you read just now. I honestly do not know why I am suddenly like this. Part of it is the re-emerging feeling of dread over my inability to catch Darius Weller. And I have felt a great deal of frustration over the little progress I am making thus far.

I seem to be caught up in a whirlwind of confusion. When I first met the Chaplain, I felt a great sense of enlightenment, like I was under some sort of protection. I am not religious, but something about the Chaplain made me feel "safe" from the sense I have had of "growing darkness," a feeling of happiness I had almost to the point of tears.

And now the Chaplain is casting my image to the student body as that of a weak and vulnerable figure. His followers have pity for me. But this is not supportive pity, rather a hostile type. So now the Chaplain, with whom I felt a sense of compatability and trust, is a person of great contempt for me.

But why am I like this? Why am I so sensitive all of a sudden? I've experienced worse without such a collapse in my psyche. And that, coupled with not being able to reason to the source of this, for I suddenly have encountered a brick wall in reasoning through my own thoughts and emotions inexplicably, is why I am feeling increasingly frustrated with myself.

Perhaps the wrayth-hunting profession is beginning to wear down on me. Perhaps I need a long break.