So you are a thing known as Chittr. That is now clear. It is fitting, how you chitter a8out. After many attempts involving experiment8tion, threat, indulgence, and flattery, I have achieved a tolera8le mastery over this peculiar little o8ject. It has spent some time masquerading as my journal, with all the audacity of a servant wearing its mistress’s jewels. As swiftly as I came to understand that it could convey my panaches, it was just as swift to growl with want when I ceased to make use of it. Plainly, it desires a host. I shall permit the parasite its lodging for now. As for the rest of you, you presume far too much. This o8ject was meant to receive confession, memory, schemes of conquest, and the occasional priv8 indulgence too finely made for lesser company. Instead, it has 8ecome host to secrets, grievances, courtship de8ris, and those little romantic injuries trolls so often mistake for literature. Yet I cannot deny its utility. It carries the voices of many strange persons, and when I turn my attention upon you with sufficient care, you 8ecome more than mere scrawl upon my thinkscape. You acquire shape. Manner. Odor, in some unfortun8 cases. The testing suggests I may now communic8 with gre8r relia8ility. Messages appear. Replies arrive. Names may 8e addressed without the whole contrivance collapsing into static and insolence. Your insults, therefore, must 8e sharpened if you wish them to retain any hope of accuracy. This is, I suppose, prefera8le to writing into the 8elly of a false journal and waiting to hear whether the thing has learned manners. There remains a single limit8tion. Anything concerning my future, or any future adjacent to my person, fails to render properly. The words curdle. The meanings slip their leashes. D8s arrive without permanence, shedding their certainty the instant I look upon them too directly. The harder I attempt to read, the more this o8ject o8scures. It appears even this ridiculous contraption possesses the sense not to hand a pir8 her own map. So 8e it. The 8argain struck to understand such an o8ject does not require prophecy. I have never needed my destin8tion handed to me. Only a direction.