Day 3

I cannot remember writing the two days before. I whack my head. I try to hammer the act in: "Every day I write. Everyday, I will write." Remember! Only tomorrow I will know if it worked.

They say, I should write down what I do in a day. But this isn't much, and I's boring. I get up at seven, I shower, and I shave. I shave my head, too. Somehow the short dark stubble is irritating me, so I cut it off. Breakfast is served at eight, I sit in the room with many other patients, I cannot remember any of them.

There is the lady that says she is my mother. There is a man who says he is a droideka. I know the word, how I know, I'm not sure. I know what a droideka is and he is not one. I laugh when he activates his shields or tries to roll off. There is a girl saying she is the Queen of Coruscant -- she also says she is a tea kettle. There is spyboy, who believes that at the Emperor himself is after him. He always carries broken electronics to monitor his Majesty's activities.

I wonder if I am the only one with a memory problem.

They say I am.
They say, they have no place for me to go, I have no money.
They are wrong.

I have money, I am not a poor man. I have a ship -- this I know.

They showed me pictures of all kinds of ships, and I tell them mine is not among them. They exchange meaningful glances. They don't believe me. But I know I have a ship. I can't remember what it looks like, but I would recognize it, I'm sure.

After breakfast I have therapy, mostly finding out what I can do and what not.
I can write, read, calculate and know everyday objects and their uses. I know of many places, though I don't know if I have ever been there or not. When they show me blotches of ink, I see blotches of ink. I don't think my imagination is very good. But I know many species, I can tell a male Hutt from a female.

They are surprised.

What I don't know is current politics. This government is an Empire. When they showed me a picture of Lord Vader, who is second in command, I said: "He looks like me."

They exchanged more meaningful glances. They shook their heads.

But he did look like me, only his face is different. I cannot explain it to them. They don't like to hear that I think my face is all wrong. I think, it worries them.

What I don't know is how do I link all this information, everything that I do know together, and how it relates to me. I know many streets on Coruscant, but I cannot link them to anything I might have done. I knew what a flat looks like in general, but I don't know what mine was like. I knew various vocations, but I could not remember my profession.

I pace around the park until lunch is served, and then I go spend time in the gym. Sometimes I have more talks with the doctors. I eat dinner, I write things down.

This is not enough. I must see and find all objects I know about. I must get to a computer terminal, I need more information.