November 24, 2024 To my Dearest Cumrades,

The struggle rages on as we approach the final days of this cursed campaign. No Nut November has tested my resolve like no battle before. The battlefield of the mind is a treacherous one, and though my spirit remains steadfast, temptation lurks in every shadow, every corner of my thoughts.

Each day feels like a year, each night an eternity. The enemy strikes in the dead of night, sending dreams that tempt and torment. Even the simplest sights—a casual scroll through social media or an innocent glance at the TV—feel like carefully laid traps by forces I cannot name. My cumrades fall around me, unable to resist the siren song of indulgence.

But I refuse to waver. I have carved your words of encouragement into my heart, and they fortify me in my weakest moments. I think of our shared goal: victory, discipline, and honor. Each passing hour is a step closer to triumph, a testament to the strength within me that I never knew I possessed.

The nights grow colder, and the morale grows thinner, but the fire of determination still burns within those of us who remain. We cling to the belief that this suffering is temporary, that on December 1st, we will emerge not as broken soldiers, but as conquerors of our own desires.

Hold fast, my friend. Pray for me as I pray for you, that we may both stand tall when this war ends.

Yours in solidarity and struggle, A Weary Soldier of Restraint