Hoodwinked

I'm not sure if anyone can read this, I don't know where this entry will go when I hit "publish entry" when I'm done, for all I know it might disappear into nothingness just like my mind.

I don't know what is happening. I look back at my more recent entries where I ramble off like a lunatic, where I seem to forget everything I've ever learned about grammar and proper punctuation or how to use certain words, but oh things have gone far beyond mere schizophrenia now, I fear. Is it normal to suddenly fall in and out of third person? I can't remember these things ever happening. I remember writing but I don't recall doing so in third person. Why would I forget.

No one is answering me. No one's going to answer this, either. All of my other entries have gone unanswered, only the older ones have replies. They're there, mocking me of a time long since gone. Have people truly abandoned me, then? I guess that is for the best. They can feel the stench of sin in these written words, but it is not my sin that they fear the most - it simply reminds them of how much worse theirs are compared to mine.

Especially Mary. Oh I think you've fooled everyone including yourself. Everyone thinks you're pure. But we have seen how easily one can mould you; but there are not always an excuse to hide behind, are there. Who would seduce a man like Robbie, anyway? A man bordering on the line of mental retardation? I know how it is. I see the truth; I know what kind of person you are. Trying to take care of him as if he was your patient and quite frankly, from what I have seen, you are not very good at what you do. Then you drag him along on your quaint little adventures - if we can even call them that - without much concern for his safety. Oh yes, I know you're concerned for him, you're concerned for everyone in your surroundings. Say, are you concerned for me, still?

... You're not going to answer. Or if you do, I will not see it. Fine. I do not need any contact with anyone. But you are dense, Mary, if you think that having him cooped up in your apartment or anywhere else will help. In the end it will be too little, if he so much as looks upon the blank face of truth, then I fear he is gone; ah, but perhaps not, maybe his weak mind will think it to be only a dream and so he will eventually forget about it. Maybe he won't even be afraid.

Isn't that interesting, my friend? He won't be afraid, while you will shiver like a leaf at the very mention of His name.

I wish only to tell you that I do not hate you. I have said such spiteful things, but even my most foul words, even my abuse - I do it because I love you. It is because I love you that all the strange things happen to you, and it is the reason as to why I am so angry at you, as well.

I can see you, Mary. I can see you through the pages of my notebook, what you do in the day, how you toss and turn at night. You might want to try some sleeping pills but they do have side effects. I know.

I am able to read blog entries curiously enough, but not comments. I don't know whether to trust what I read or not though... everything is so slurred, so... hazy. Only my own words are clear to me, for the moment being. I fear this will not last long. If I'm not allowed to communicate through various tools found on the internet, then fine.

Observer

It took a while, but now it has happened.

Andreas approached Alice with some hesitation and for a while it seemed like he was unable of finding the right words, but eventually the glue that held his lips together was dissolved, and thus he spoke; he had seen Him. He spoke not with the erratic fear of a leporine, however there was a decidedly overhanging fear in the room as he re-told his story. It had been a normal day (typical), he began, until he saw something standing outside one of the windows. Andreas had been peacefully rolling down the hall when he saw the stranger; an unknown man whom, he soon realised, he didn't want anything to do with. A blank face, tall, thin-- every detail fitting.

Nothing happened.

He blinked and the man in the suit was gone instantaneously. He had not told anyone, out of fear of being mocked, or told that he was delirious. Couldn't have a loony in a wheelchair out and about, now could we? They talked a bit while Alice contemplated whether she should tell him or not - but it was not such a hard decision.

"The Tailor?" he said. "That is an odd name."
Odd, perhaps, but is he not a tailor so say? Just like an author, a painter - creating, painting a scene; fabricating the characters, adding, deleting; sewing the whole story together with thread made out of sinew.
Alice told her friend that He had many names. We have many names for the things we love - or as we say in Swedish, "Kärt barn har många namn".

"There is no need to worry," she said. "He is merely observing."

Of Yore

Fisk

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Fire

I just came home from work a little while ago. My dad called, saying my mother's dead. I got to go home early, I think my colleagues were shocked, probably told me how sorry they were but I didn't hear them.

Dad sounded so shaken up, never heard him like that before. Says that she was burned to a crisp in the office, the only thing remaining was her engagement ring and a pair of showy earrings – I always told her how ridiculous they looked – and no damage to the chair she was sitting in, no damage to anything could be seen.

I didn't want this to happen I swear to god...

The Past

18 June
Pain.

19 June
Crawling insects on the walls, sounds outside, screams. The wind occasionally blowing violently.
The pain subsiding.

20 June
Same.

21 June
Same.

22 June
The pain almost completely gone. Sometimes she gets what can best be described as "convulsions". Her body starts trembling without control for a while before it stops. No one has contacted her in these last few days, perhaps everyone is gone? Has the world changed?
Doesn't dare to look outside. Food is scarce.

23 June
So lonely. Looked outside; it's normal. Sunny, beautiful, with birds singing. If the birds sing it is all right. Still their presence bring her little consolation.
Pasta today.

24 June
Do not want to eat pasta anymore, but too tired to go out of the house. Too tired to get to civilisation.
Calls dad, tells him it's that time of the month. Of course he'll get her some supplies. Of course.
She doesn't want pasta. Of course she doesn't. He can make some good meat balls. Of course you can, daddy. Yes I remember when you did it a lot when I was a kid. Yes I know it was my favourite then. No, I don't know why I changed my taste.
Meat balls with potatoes is fine.
They eat, talk. Dad says she looks tired; yes, she knows. Has she taken a pain killer? Yes, she has.
Okay. Good bye.

25 June
Found the notebook in an unopened box from the move. As good as new, but with a new picture in it.

Who drew it?
Had leftovers.

26 June
Wondering if she should contact Andreas. Why hasn't he written anything?

27 June
Andreas replied saying he has been very ill for a while, says he's sorry for not informing her about it earlier. It's okay. Will there be a club meeting soon? No, most about everyone is on vacation. Brilliant. But they could do something together, just the two of them.
Yes, that'd be nice.

28 June
Hate making dinner.

29 June
Mother called randomly. It was nice in the beginning, but then some detail was brought up and everything went to hell.
They're not always going to be there to pay for things. Mummy and daddy can't help when they're dead. Does she plan on working in the library for the rest of her life? Can't get much money doing that! It doesn't matter if you like your profession, you've got to have money.

30 June
Angry and upset, but doesn't feel alone.

1 July
Met with Andreas today. Somehow looked shaggier than last time they met, nevertheless they walked through the woods looking and listening to the birds. Alice had told him about the library earlier, so he asked if she still enjoyed working there. Yes she did. Went to work every day - except for the two days when she had been in pain, oh, she hoped that wouldn't make them want to fire her. Andreas didn't think so. He would like to come visit her in the library.

2 July
Thought she saw something moving in the darkness. It's easier to sleep with company.

3 July
Hallucinations all night long.
Why.

4 July
The birds aren't singing.

5 July
A putrid smell in the house... smells like smoke. Again. But there is nothing.
Found a new picture.

Sideways

Yonder