['Sup Paradisa. Have a strange whirring sound, a little like an ancient hard drive rebooting itself. There is a little more silence before the owner of this journal decides to speak. Those happy-fun tones of pure crazy? Yeah, they're gone now]

MEN-TAL CAP-AC-IT-Y IS NO LONG-ER COMP-RO-MISED. IN-IT-I-AT-ING ATT-ACK STRAT-EG-Y. BEG-IN RE-PAIRS TO SYS-TEMS.

[And he's just noticed the open journal]

YOUR END IS APP-ROACH-ING PA-RA-DI-SA.