I found a church of some sort today. It had a high, arched ceiling, and it was set up like an auditorium, with pews sort of radiating out from the center. As I descended, I saw no symbols, paintings, or words, except for those maybe contained in a slim book which I didn’t even spot until I was only a few feet from the pulpit on which it lay emphatically closed.
I should note that until now I have only found empty books. Normal lined journals, and also hardcovers with generic designs and perfectly blank pages. The other day I found a rough cut, leather bound volume with embossed gold details, including a small upside-down pineapple on the spine. I think I am close to remembering what this means.
Anyway, no words in or on books, until now. Otherwise plain, the cover of this book on the pulpit read:
POETRY
It was vulgar somehow, and I couldn’t go closer.
All day today, I was expecting rain, and it never came. I guess the forecast isn’t perfect. What’s strange is that there were never even any clouds.
Message 3.1:
“Memory is a gun in a shoebox.”
Message 3.2:
“Kafka liked to have his watch an hour and a half fast. Felice kept setting it right.
Nonetheless for five years they almost married. He made a list of arguments for
and against marriage, including inability to bear the assault of his own life (for)
and the sight of the nightshirts laid out on his parents' beds at 10:30 (against).
Hemorrhage saved him. When advised not to speak by doctors in the sanatorium,
he left glass sentences all over the floor. Felice, says one of them, had too much
nakedness left in her.”
I will go back, maybe not for a while.
Day 3 (still)
What happened to my memory? Not sure how I realised this in my sleep. I just woke up seconds
ago. I should have looked back at the previous day when writing about today. I would have
realised then. I could have maybe done something. I know I intended to write about Day 2, yet
somehow this passed my mind this morning. Even worse, I can hardly recall the day. This was
just one day ago, how could this be true? I haven’t had this trouble with memory before. Have I?
Is this place changing me? Is it the place? Is it me? Is this normal? No, this certainly doesn’t feel
normal. Something is wrong. Will I remember today when I wake up later? I fear going to sleep.
What if I soon stop remembering my mornings by nightfall, or moments before by moments later?
Only fragments exist of the days before. The girl, the pineapple, the tree, the plane. I’m struggling to come up with anything more.
My left breast hurts. Is this related?
Am I panicking from my loss of memory, or is this place just getting to me?
I think I’m too flustered to begin writing anything more.
It’s now 2:01 am. I haven’t been able to sleep for two hours since I wrote what’s above. This is too on my mind, and I fear going to sleep. Did I not dream anything last night or was I just unable to remember what I dreamt? I feel like I’m falling back asleep.
I have to get this down before I forget it too. Here’s a list of memories I find important, so to keep them safer than in my mind:
- Everything I’ve journalled above.
- The tree came to me in a dream. It has been on my mind often. This is all I remember.
- The plane is also from a dream. I was with someone as a passenger. I do not know what the important detail here is, but I suspect all of it.
- The word “rectify” or the idea of it? I believe this memory comes from my dream two hours ago. I don’t remember the dream, but this feels more natural to have forgotten.
As I write this, I cannot determine how much my behavior and what I know comes from memory or from intuition. Will I remember how much to eat and how often? Maybe that’s something that can be solved solely by what my stomach tells me, but what about other things? Will I remember how to tie my shoes? I already forget what, to me, is everything before this place. I guess if I remember to tie my shoes here still, it must be pretty hard to forget. This brings to mind a concern I’ve had:
Did I exist before this place? How can I prove this?
I’ve just looked back at my past logs. I must have. Certainly, right? I cannot remember if I remembered more then, but I can feel it. I could tell the robot was unlike any I’d ever seen. This must mean I’ve seen some before. Or, wait. Nevermind. Forgot I could have been put here with artificial memories. But if my memories can be added and taken away, is what’s happening to my memory now intentional or not? I didn’t think this would be a problem. Are the memories from my dreams reliable? They already feel so foreign. Must I write all this down just to remember it later? Will my memory come back?
If my memory of this place is all I have now, why do I still feel the need to understand where I am, or if this place is among other places?
I am so tired. I hardly know what I’m writing anymore. Maybe when I reread this, I’ll understand what I meant. I need to figure out what things mean. Keep in mind proof by contradiction.
I don’t want to forget that I was once clear-headed.
If I return to this later and don’t recognise it, know that this is real. Or was.