This will make slightly more sense if you read the first excerpt here:
So, there’s this new instructor for my Linear Social-Structure class, and she kind of reminds me of you. She even smells like your letters. For a minute, I thought it could have been you, if she wasn’t so old. She wasn’t you, in any case. It was more accurate to just say she reminds me of you. Anyway, she’s a good friend of Jack’s, so she’s probably tyrannical in her own way. Jack controls every little thing I do.
If he was my dad, I would be more rebellious, but he’s got the upper hand, being my uncle and all. Of course, he doesn’t know I read my blueprints, so at the very least, I know what to expect. Still, it doesn’t give me much to work with.
Yup. Born of parchment, and die by parchment. It’s all pretty silly if you think about it. No one ever thought to just let life happen, as it were. That’s the Council for you - control what can be controlled, and grant freedom in the form of constraints, whether it’s constraints of time or fear or capacity doesn’t matter. It’s all the same anyway.
What an ironic name for a council. The Life Council of Free Creation. That's a joke. Free Creation? I mean, I take a class called Linear Social-Structure! Freedom and linear structure are complete opposites. It’s a self-refuting name. Asinine, if you ask me.
Oh, sorry for complaining again. Well, you know there’s no one else I can say this to. We will meet eventually, Pandora. I’ll get this off my chest, and we can just be. Just be and let our parchment run out. We’ll change the blueprints. We’ll make them eat their ink!