Sunday, 2016-02-14

I woke up, and found it was sunday. There is a strange entry in this diary, I can not understand it. Every time I stare at it, my head hurts and the symbols blur. Every time I look at it, I am staring. I must find out what it means. I can not recall writing it. The symbols don’t seem familiar, I can’t find them anywhere. It takes effort to look away. It hurts to look.

Maybe it is simply a code? I should try to transcribe it and see if I can figure something out. THE LIBRARY HAS ANSWERS COME TO THE LIBRARY HAS ANSWERS COME TO. I resist. I do not comply, I do not obey the call. I will try to transcribe it. If it is a message written by myself, why should I not be able to decipher it? Maybe it is just plain english.

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Friday, 2016-02-12

I don’t remember. The day is gone, the sun has risen and set again. I don’t remember anything. I don’t know what’s going on, I only know that I am tired, so tired, more tired than I can remember, I can’t remember. My head hurts I don’t remember I don’t know what happened today. I am tired. The night has begun I must sleep I don’t remember how it works. I am closing my eyes. I am tired I don’t remember.

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Thursday, 2016-02-11

No dream last night. I was shocked when I woke up. It felt like I had lost something precious, like a long-time lover suddenly being absent in the morning. I hope I didn’t loose it forever, but that would probably be overly optimistic, from a different perspective.

I went back to work. Probably wasn’t much help, I just couldn’t focus, I kept longing for the dream, kept thinking of ways to get further, to find information. Again, nobody seemed to notice anything odd about me. In fact, Nobody seemed to be aware of my previous absence either. I don’t know if I was living an illusion before, that people noticed me or cared about me, or if their behaviour changed.

I felt something on my way back. I remembered that I had never been to the library. It draws me. I resist. I’ll do the relaxation exercises again, maybe they help (again?).

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Wednesday, 2016-02-10

I didn’t sleep tonight, since I only woke up at sunset yesterday. Spent the whole day awake as well. I’m tired now.

My psychiatrists‘ appointment was uneventful. Just a bunch of questions asked, a couple of tests given to fill out until my next appointment. He also taught me some relaxation techniques I’m to try before going to bed, or whenever I become anxious. I have them printed out on unremarkable white paper. I guess I’ll do them before going to sleep, right after finishing this entry. Oh, I was also told to continue writing these entries. I did mention that they helped me keep it together.

I also wrote work, as well as Greg and Charlotte. It’s kind of weird, and somewhat dissapointing, that nobody seemed to care enough to contact me while I was basically gone since Friday. Now that I think of it, though, it’s only really been four days, and two of them where weekend. C didn’t seem to really mind me missing the concert. Apparently, it wasn’t that good. Or maybe she just told me that so I’d feel less like missing out.

Going to bed now. Trying to go to work again tomorrow. Life goes on.

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Tuesday, 2016-02-09

The Cave, enter. The pursuer is gone, but I am not safe. I was faster this time, fast enough. The entrance is gone now, I had missed it before. Of course, of course, of course, to slow, to slow, to slow, to slow. There is something in here, I know it. If only I could find it. Everything looks black, not darkness, but unkowning. Like trying to take notes in a dream, and looking back to see that there is nothing left but an open question.

The presence is rising. I open my eyes, again, and see nothing. They are still closed. I want to open my eyes. I must see, I want to see! I am afraid of the dark. I want to see. I open my eyes, I force myself to see. A flicker. A smell of iron. The sun is setting outside my window. I am awake.

How long was I asleep? It must have been 20 hours. What is happening to me. I feel like these entries are the only thing keeping me sane. Tomorrow I will go to the doctor. I don’t believe they can help me any more. I must find out what is in the cave. I must open my eyes.

I should probably let work know that I’m sick.

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Monday, 2016-02-08

I will fall asleep soon, there is no stopping it. The dream will take me once more, there is no helping it. My day was spent in a haze. It is not worth being awake if one is not truly awake. I didn’t go to work, obviously. I have an appointment on Wednesday, I shall soldier on till then. No way I can stay awake much longer though. I will fall asleep soon, there is no escape. The dream will envelop me again, there is no way out. No way out. I can feel the fear building up. I should at least try to get further this time.

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Sunday, 2016-02-07

I spent the whole day half asleep. Last night was terrible, I made up in fear what I lacked in obsession. The dream hasn’t changed. I have not come any further, but I am starting to notice more details now. I can see the forest changing before my eyes, the leaves retracting into the trees, their branches shrivelling into jagged shapes. The birdsong trickling out, one bird after the other going silent.

When I first dreamt it, it was like a normal dream, things just kind of… happened, and changed around me, it was inconsistent. But now it feels more and more carefully crafted, all the details getting filled in. Like an elaborate special effect. Every time it looks and sound more real. Every time, it is more real.

I don’t want to sleep any more. It is more exhausting than staying awake. I will not go to bed tonight. Have to stay awake. Everything will be fixed soon, just gotta stay awake till tomorrow.

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Saturday, 2016-02-06, Evening

I should definetly see someone about this. I feel like I’ve just lost the entire day. I woke up after this restless night at noon. Never made it to the cave, but, oh, I’ve tried! I must have dreamt six or seven times last night, always running, away, from?

And towards that cave, that answer, it’s taunting me! The last time I almost got a glimpse of something in there. Like a movement, or a shadow? I spent the rest of the day on the internet, searching for clues. Why am I so obsessed with this? It only now occured to me that I completely forgot about the concert. Neither Greg nor Charlotte messaged me though. I guess they didn’t really care.

It’s to late now to call someone. Tomorrow is Sunday. I’m afraid to speak about this with anyone, but I will call a psychiatrist on Monday.

I must go to sleep now. The dream is waiting. The dream is waiting. The dream is waiting.

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