I cancelled some old accounts, not having looked in a while. It all felt completely wrong – I was invisible, an impostor in a world of people who seemed to know exactly what they wanted and how they’d get it. This is not my world.
The weekends keep passing me by – I haven’t walked enough to walk this off yet. I’m still navigating by memory, not by sense. Memories are unreliable, memories can’t wait, I’ll never shake this curse if I can’t let it all go.
After walking all the way into town I heard a feline voice coming from an old building, asking for help. The following day I walked past another old building, and heard a human voice talking to someone on the phone, sounding like they needed some help. Themes recur; the nightmare goes on.