DAY 4

There's an undeniably real gap forming between the reality in my head and the reality around me. It's hard not to yearn for the adventures going in my imagination; I still haven't talked to a single person here yet, and that's assuming there's even anyone on the other side of these fucking walls. Don't even care most of the time though, most of my efforts have been spent getting myself to go to sleep. It's getting easier now that I've trained myself so maybe after 15 minutes, it was lights out. Last night, I finally had an entirely new experience; I was nowhere near the city district that my previous memories had been in and thank fucking god,  I managed to avoid the dark void where the voice is. Instead, I touched down in the middle of a desert. The second my eyes opened up, a gust of wind hit them with sand; I cursed and tried to rub the particles out, managing to trip over myself and fall into the valley of a dune. As I hit the ground over and over again on my descent, I remember feeling joy and exhilaration instead of the assumed pain and misery. I remember wishing to the nameless gods above me to never let it stop, but all too soon, I hit the end of my journey, splat...right on my face. I groaned from the force of the ground on my neck and turned over on my back, squinting from the bright light of the sun. Taking my first look at my surroundings, I only saw sand as far as my eyes could see. While I looked around a second time, I dug my feet and hands into the warm, fine sand, letting the scratchy grains lightly graze my skin. Unfortunately, my first assessment had been accurate: there was nothing to be found here. So I didn't move for what seemed like hours. I let my thoughts float in my head, taking my time with each one. Sometimes two bumped into each other, and for that brief moment of impact, my attention crossed between the two so fast that they seemed to blend together. I laughed at the moment and drew myself out before it became too much; I opened my eyes and let the light blind me for a few minutes. Eventually, I got bored of the fooling around and got up to explore my surroundings. I had no fucking idea how hard it was to wade through sand; I'd been to the beach before but the occasional soreness had nothing on the excruciating pain I felt in my calves as I ascended what looked like the runt of the dune litter. The second I reached the top I dropped down to collect myself. When I caught my breath, I let my eyes open to take in the vista. I was overwhelmed with half shock and half awe; there was an alien beauty to the whole place. The gold grains of the sand clashed with the fierce blue of space; together they formed a picture across the back of my mind that will never fade even now. The time for admiration quickly went by, however, and very suddenly, I realized just how fucked I was. It took me a few minutes to even decide in a direction to take, every way seemed so infinite and vast that I basically flipped a four sided coin in my head. Left it was then.

I walked for what seemed like hours, just one foot in front of the other. By then, I was completely disgusted with the beauty that once entranced me. All I wanted was out, my heart was racing from the heat of the sun, and I knew I didn't drop from heart failure, my other muscles would give out pretty soon anyways. In times of frustration, I like to let my hands glide across my face, taking my time to feel the years of wear and tear on my palms. They used to be so smooth but not anymore. Anything but. There's always a tranquil element to this ritual so when my vision came up on the other side of my hands, I almost jumped from what appeared in the next valley. The descent was grain after grain as usual, but as soon as the slope evened out, blades of grass had jettisoned from beneath the surface. And beyond the green grass was a single house. I made my way to the side of it, doing my best to take a peak through the windows. I really didn't know what to expect but the reveal was severely lacking in the climactic section. There was absolutely nothing in the house, not even a chair or fixture on the wall. I tried the window to see if it was locked, and luckily, it was. I did my best not to make any noise although I knew the precaution would turn out to be unnecessary. Still, I couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as I walked through each hallway and each room to find that there really was absolutely nothing inside. I came back to the room where I came in and sat down on the ground, not sure what to do next. I was definitely still in the throws of severe hunger and dehydration, but the fact that I was inside and sitting made the constant gnawing a little more bearable. I think I actually drifted off at some point; I remember jamming my eyelids open, expecting someone to had stumbled upon me during my slumber. Still alone. Even in my dreams, I just had to be alone...And suddenly, I stood up, looking at the walls with a new fascination. Personally, I think it was the feelings of loneliness that helped me make the connection, but by that time I knew better than to think I knew what was going on. Regardless, I was never more sure of anything in my life: I was standing in the same room I would wake up in. Frantically. I searched the house for clues, fucking anything that would shed more light on my situation, but almost like some invisible switch had been activated, I could feel myself getting pulled back into consciousness. It felt like some giant had a grip on my shirt and was mercilessly pulling me to the exit. I cried and pulled and begged to stay where the answers were. But it was in vain...I'm here in the room again. Writing to myself again...waiting for life to begin again.

DAY 3

So I think I've officially gone crazy; I just woke up from another dream. I started off in darkness, perfect pitch black. I remember walking around to see if I could find a wall to orient myself, but I couldn't find a single thing to run my hands across. I even ran a bit in one direction, hoping that I would run into something, fuck the potential pain. But nothing, I decided to sit down. After what seemed like hours, I heard a voice come from across the void. It was female, but I couldn't be sure. The voice wasn't even really there, it felt more like it was registering in my mind rather than through my ears. Either way it was telling me not to be afraid, that if I was patient enough, I'd be able to escape unharmed. I didn't say anything initially, but when I did, all I could ask was why this was happening to me. The voice asked me to elaborate, and I told it I couldn't. She laughed and told me to go be cryptic to someone else. I sat there shocked, not sure whether from the fact that this disembodied voice seemed to have a sense of humor or that it decided to employ it in a rather bitchy manner. The voice seems to sense my irritation and offers to help me assuming I follow a few conditions. I agree. She seems pleased at my willingness and lists her requirements. First, I need to be compliant without fail. Second, if I *am* to fail, I have to accept the consequences. If I follow these two rules, I can get out of wherever I am unharmed. Honestly, I didn't trust anything that was happening to me, let alone a voice that didn't even seem to have an owner. But I was desperate, I was scared. I complied. She giggles and promptly gives me her first command. She tells me to jump as high into the air as possible. I get up from the ground and stretch my arms out above me to make sure there wasn't a lower ceiling than expected. After finding the space around me satisfactory, I bent down to spring up as high as I could. The second my feet leave the floor, my head explodes in searing pain. My ass hits the ground hard, my head hurt so much that if I could actually see anything, it'd be stars. The voice is laughing hysterically at what happened. I immediately think it's her doing so I curse and scream at her, demanding to know why she would worsen my current situation even further. She claimed that her only intent was to guide me out; I realized that regardless of what her true intentions were, I needed this disembodied voice to get out. I asked for my next assignment. The voice didn't respond for a few minutes, but the entire time I could feel whatever worked as her mind whirring at top speed, giving off a phantom heat that only my most internal senses could decipher. Finally, she tells me to stand up. I follow her brief instructions and prepared for more, but they never came. I was left alone for what seemed like hours. I was dying to sit back down but her rules were made clear; while i waited, my mind wandered back to my life before the room, before these insane dreams. I always try to see if I can shed more light on my past, as if just sheer willpower alone can unlock the mystery. Sometimes, I feel like all I'm doing is pushing them further back into the darkness, so far back that retrieval will become impossible. That's the last thing I want so my probing never lasts too long. I bring myself back to "reality" and make sure I'm ready to follow the next order. Almost as if she was waiting for me to pay attention again, the voice apologizes for her absence. She tells me to start walking forward, but slowly this time. I do as she says and take a few steps, making sure I'm ready for whatever joke she has waiting for me. Instead, piercing light floods my eyes, making my dialated eyes scream silently in pain from the sudden activity. My hands come up to shield them, but the voice tells me to stop and just focus on taking each step. Every fiber in my being tells me to ignore her and protect myself, but I still haven't forgotten what's at stake. Soon enough though, the pain subsides and the splendor of my new surroundings sprouts a wide grin from my grimace. I'm in a pasture with the greenest blades of grass going on and on into the distance for miles. There's not a cloud in the sky and the sun is taking full advantage of that, letting sunlight gush all over the me and my vista. The voice asks me if I'm pleased by what I see. I say that I am, and the voice says good. It tells me to walk over to the nearest tree I see, and when I get there, I find a tank of gasoline and a matchbook. The voice tells me to use these items on the tree; my heart sinks at my new task and I ask if there's any specific reason as to why I need to do this. The only answer I get is a splitting pain between my eyes. I take that as a "shut the fuck up and do it" and start to douse the tree in gas; I light a match and watch it burn. As soon as a flame sprouts from the trunk, however, flames start spreading from every direction in the brush. I start to panic as I watch my beautiful meadow light up in flames; my sadness is quickly overcome by terror when I start to notice the flames center on a common target: me. I start to run in the only direction that isn't engulfed in fire, but the voice tells me to stop. I don't and keep on going, asking the voice if it's out of its mind. The pain starts to throb inside me again, but my extreme desire to live keeps it from hindering my movement. It's a brutal and mortal struggle, pain and terror closed in on all sides. A flame catches up to me and lights me up as well. I could feel my flesh blistering and burning as I screamed out in agony, cursing everything. The voice tells me to find peace in my end, and I listen. Somehow through the unimaginable pain, I found solace in knowing that my story had come to an end. It didn't even matter that I was about to die, nameless and unknown, in the middle of a field in the middle of nowhere. Finally, I could close my eyes and rest. Only that wasn't my destiny. Instead, my death came in the form of waking up again. Back in this fucking room. I got up and realized I must have been asleep for days when I collapsed from sheer exhaustion. Luckily, I found more shitty food where the last meal was, and, this was new, my paper and pen supply had been replenished. Clearly, whoever is responsible for this nightmare likes what he's reading. I never would taken myself for an easy target for Stockholm Syndrome, but hey, I kinda like that I have an audience. Someone might as well enjoy the shit I'm going through right? Anyways, I have another date with my dreams. It's getting hard to keep on calling them that. These days they seem like anything but.

DAY 2

I woke up again today to find some food on the desk I write on. Jesus, I'm pretty sure my shin isn't healing from the gash I gave it trying to hop out of my bed faster. It wasn't even really worth it...I mean god knows how long it's been since I've eaten but come on, I'm pretty sure chef boyardee and stale bread werent the best options at the store. Well I obviously ate it anyways; makes me wonder how I'm supposed to take a leak now, but who knows? It could totally just care of itself too next time I sleep. Fingers crossed at least. Anyways, I had another dream last night. It started where the last one ended; I'm in the middle of a street and walking down towards some creepy looking dock. There's no one outside though; it must be a lot later in the night. I can hear crickets chirping with each other; speaking of which, I never really grew up close enough to the country to know what a cricket sounds like. I could be wrong but aren't dreams exclusively inspired by what you actually know? I thought it was weird but not at the time; much too preoccupied with the task at hand. When I reached the edge of the dock, I felt this crazy strong urge to look over the edge. I was really careful not to touch the barnacles and other disgusting crap that was growing on the rails. The water itself was really deep and murky, probably polluted itself with all of the parasitic growth. Still, I obeyed my urges and eventually found a place on the rail where I could cleanly look over it into the lake. Shimmering on the surface was a pretty reimagining of the stars up above and in the center was my reflection. And I basically lost my shit, the person I saw in front of me wasn't me. Well...let me clarify; it was me but much later in my life. My hair was still pretty full and thick but deeply gray and white. My complexion wasn't too bad but there were definite weathering scars all along my eyes. They looked so tired, so experienced, so...dead. I couldn't help but cry out in shock, almost tripping over myself as I reeled from the rail. Suddenly, my breathing became very forced, each inhale was like daggers and each exhale just dragged them across open flesh. Blood drops leaked from my nose and mouth. I knew what this felt like, ive done this before. Sometime long ago, definitely a distant memory if anything. I fell to the ground, maintaining the usual position. Face in the dirt, I finally took a clean breath; the earth is healing me. I could actually pick myself up from the ground and see the magic I seemed to be responsible for. Every spot in which my blood dripped started blooming the most beautiful flowers and brush I have ever seen in my life. My mind summoned forth names for each sprout. Jason, Chasca, Tsai, all of these names filled my head like a torrent of memories, but not mine to look at. Even now I can almost feel their weight, their alien presence in my subconscious. I can't really describe the sensation, but these dreams are so vivid, so full of life. I can't help but think that maybe these aren't dreams but something else. Ugh, or maybe I'm just some fucking bored out of his mind guy whose clinging to the only thing that seems to have meaning right now. Isn't it funny how our minds are capable of so much more than we actually are? Dreams by their very nature are something unattainable. After all, once you accomplish them, they stop becoming dreams and start affecting reality. Anyways, I'm not really feeling up to writing much more. After all, when I sleep, life starts again.

DAY 1

I woke up in a room made of cement. Each wall's painted a different color; I'd say what color but honestly I can't really put my tongue on their names. Never had the greatest memory, but this is not normal. I don't even know how I got here, how this paper and pen got here, how these goddamn colors got here. I've been trying to figure it out though-went back in my head to the last thing I remember. All I've got so far is the smell of someone, someone I'm pretty sure I love. Or loved? Who knows, there's no way to tell how long it's been. I tried scratching marks into the cement, but there were issues. My nails aren't exactly made of diamond, and I'd have to count each fuckin' second out. Yeah so that's no good. I didn't even see the paper here on the table until a few "hours" in. Table was so solid white; whoever designed this place must be blind...anyways, I'm fuckin' bored in here so I've decided to write. Doesn't really matter on what I guess...never really been the creative type. But ya know, make lemonade out of lemons. Some fuckin' shit lemons. Anyways, I'm done for now.

So I finally got to sleep and woke up just a few something ago (no point in using time units, who knows what the fuck time it is anymore). I think I was dreaming, but it's hard to say. All I *can* say is that I saw a flash of intense light and suddenly I wasn't in the room anymore. I was outside! Middle of the night from the look of things but still, I was actually outside. I could smell the freshness of the air, the buzzing of the crickets in tune with the twinkling of the stars overhead. I walked around a couple of blocks; it was a nice neighborhood. There were people out, but I didn't really feel like talking. Didn't seem like they wanted to anyways. I wanted to see where I was specifically, but I had apparently spent enough time outside. Pretty soon, the intense light slowly became all I could see, all I could sense. And like that, my consciousness plunged back into this familiar reality. I can't even fathom what the hell just happened to me. I'd chalk it up to cabin fever, maybe a manifestation of my desire to get out of here? Dreams are pretty crazy constructs, ya never know what your mind could be trying to tell you through them. Needless to say, I have countless theories. Nothing concrete though, it'd be a waste of time to write them down on paper. I know people say that the catharsis of making your thoughts reality, even on paper, could help bring them to a fuller circle. Maybe...but dreams aren't the worst of my problems. If anything, they're the only good thing I've got going in here. In here, I already feel like a prisoner, shackled to the small space that this place leaves me in. I'll never amount to anything as long as I stay inside this room, but in my head I can go anywhere. I can pretend like I know what's happening to me, like I can remember my life before all this...like someone hasn't robbed me of my future. The pen feels like it's running out of ink so I'll stop for now. I do remember something pretty small though now. In my dream, I could feel the freshness of the air, a freshness that only comes from mid spring. Well, somehow that helped me remember something about my last day on the outside. My shoes crunching on leaves as they fall across my path to work, the sun starting to set before I even got home for supper, my son going to his first day of school...it was fall. I thought I was here for only a few days...I never thought it could have been months.