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“Do you ever regret killing me… Darling?”
“No… But I do feel guilty sometimes.”
… It has been a difficult couple of days. It has been a difficult week.
And, while it is possible that such a statement may be redundant, considering the information I am about to write down, I feel it important to be noted, since, during these rare, far-in-between, almost painful moments of what I reluctantly call ‘clarity’, but might just as easy mark as ‘partial insanity’ and ‘fabrication’, I seem to gain access to a lot of memories and thoughts about past events which have seemingly slipped by me at the time, passed me, passed through me without leaving the impact which they normally would.
Bottom line, I may very well be losing my mind and not knowing it, while also I may very well be experiencing severe nightmares and delusions, so I feel it necessary to jot down all information present to me during my different ‘states’ so I may keep track of what is relevant and what isn’t. And perhaps even figure out what is real. If anything is.
I’ve been getting these flashes for about two weeks now. Yet just recently I seem to have noticed how odd they are. Whenever I seem to feel particularly depressed, some odd form of repressed guilt seems to arise in the form of apparitions, taking the form of my late lover, Meghan... Asking me if I feel guilty. I feel as tho I’ve lost track of what I should be feeling guilty about. But that’s not the point.
Right now I do not wish to think about what her questions might imply, but I do know that at one point I did know what I felt guilty for. And it was around that time where I realized how large parts of my timeline were fairly screwy.
On the one hand, I felt as tho she had asked me that very question long before the act she is referring to. On the other hand, I cannot recollect being close enough to Meghan to warrant such attention from my coworker.
On one hand, I keep thinking that she’s… Yet, on the side, no one has thrown a fuss about it. Nor have I been questioned or heard any news.
I’ve gained the habit of periodically checking my bedroom dresser, my bed and my bathroom during my time off, which is spent at home. I cannot shake off the feeling that she should be in my apartment.
Whether or not she is well or not, corporeal, a mere vision or a fucking paranormal being for all I know, is all beyond my current grasp.
I am aware that, tomorrow morning, I will probably think nothing of my current anxiety and dismiss these notes as nothing more, but just delusional rambles. I think I am doing that now, already. Yet, still. Knowledge is power. Information is key. And keeping it all written down is probably my best shot at finding any semblance of peace.
- Angelica Kaiser.
“No… But I do feel guilty sometimes.”
… It has been a difficult couple of days. It has been a difficult week.
And, while it is possible that such a statement may be redundant, considering the information I am about to write down, I feel it important to be noted, since, during these rare, far-in-between, almost painful moments of what I reluctantly call ‘clarity’, but might just as easy mark as ‘partial insanity’ and ‘fabrication’, I seem to gain access to a lot of memories and thoughts about past events which have seemingly slipped by me at the time, passed me, passed through me without leaving the impact which they normally would.
Bottom line, I may very well be losing my mind and not knowing it, while also I may very well be experiencing severe nightmares and delusions, so I feel it necessary to jot down all information present to me during my different ‘states’ so I may keep track of what is relevant and what isn’t. And perhaps even figure out what is real. If anything is.
I’ve been getting these flashes for about two weeks now. Yet just recently I seem to have noticed how odd they are. Whenever I seem to feel particularly depressed, some odd form of repressed guilt seems to arise in the form of apparitions, taking the form of my late lover, Meghan... Asking me if I feel guilty. I feel as tho I’ve lost track of what I should be feeling guilty about. But that’s not the point.
Right now I do not wish to think about what her questions might imply, but I do know that at one point I did know what I felt guilty for. And it was around that time where I realized how large parts of my timeline were fairly screwy.
On the one hand, I felt as tho she had asked me that very question long before the act she is referring to. On the other hand, I cannot recollect being close enough to Meghan to warrant such attention from my coworker.
On one hand, I keep thinking that she’s… Yet, on the side, no one has thrown a fuss about it. Nor have I been questioned or heard any news.
I’ve gained the habit of periodically checking my bedroom dresser, my bed and my bathroom during my time off, which is spent at home. I cannot shake off the feeling that she should be in my apartment.
Whether or not she is well or not, corporeal, a mere vision or a fucking paranormal being for all I know, is all beyond my current grasp.
I am aware that, tomorrow morning, I will probably think nothing of my current anxiety and dismiss these notes as nothing more, but just delusional rambles. I think I am doing that now, already. Yet, still. Knowledge is power. Information is key. And keeping it all written down is probably my best shot at finding any semblance of peace.
- Angelica Kaiser.
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