‘What time is it now?’
I had been sitting in front of my computer for what seemed like an eternity long minute. Hm? What does that mean? Had I been sitting for too long? Or was it just a short duration of time that appeared long? Was I even sitting? What am I thinking about?
The door opened and someone walked in. my room was set in a way so that the desk, on which I was sitting at the moment, was placed in front of the only small window in the room and the main door was behind me. Beside the desk was a futon on which I used to sleep. I got the bed removed because… I don’t know why I got it removed…
Are you getting irritated? By these string of thoughts? I am sure you are. I am too. But anyways, since you are already here, let me greet you properly. Welcome, inside my world, inside my head. Had you entered a few months back, you would have been awestruck by the only the sheer amount of ideas, let alone my theories. But right now I don’t even know how to get ideas.
From what I still remember, I got into an unfortunate accident. Make a note here, why do I say unfortunate? Accidents are of many types. There are good accidents and bad accidents. Avoidable and unavoidable (yes they can be avoided and after they are, we categorize them as something other than an accident; but at the end of the day, they were an accident too). I wouldn’t say that I could go on for this is all I can label at the moment, but I believe there are many, many more types of accidents. Oh my! I got deviated from the main topic as usual. Coming back,
I wish to start my story from when I encountered the accident. Like I mentioned earlier, I don’t remember the details myself, so, I would like to read out to you my diary that I have been keeping diligently since the day of my accident.
. . .
20 June, XX09
For whoever might end up reading this: I never imagined things would take such a grim turn for me. What would the world say? Such a famous fiction writer is losing his mind after taking a blow to the head? I have decided, I am going to quit writing from today. With how things have turned out to be, I don’t want to make mistakes to that beautiful novel and end up disgracing my current reputation. That book is fine the way it is.
Next I am writing this to myself who will read these entries after sometime in order to make sense of the world. You are not alone. Always remember that. We are not alone. Read the book and you will understand. I am having an operation tomorrow so this is it for today. Will write the rest of the details tomorrow.
. . .
He wants me to read a book. Today is the first time I read this letter, probably because today is the first time I lost myself. I know that I had been showing symptoms for quite some time now, but today… I feel lost.
But what is the book? Which book is he talking about? The ‘old me’ has written so many of them. There are a few unfinished books as well…
The door closed just now. How strange… was there someone in my room before?