Time flows weirdly here. It's only been a week and it's turned from autumn to winter. Unless I came here at the end of autumn. But I'm not entirely sure that the case. The things I've remember are myself, everything about myself. That I've have a brother, a wife and children, I don't remember any specifics about them other than their names. That I love and write poetry. That I'm afraid of large bodies of water. I remember having a crush on Sara. Children at 18. I remember everything.


One week and two days. They told me I'm in the unknown. What kind of forest name is that? It's uncharacteristically non descriptive. Like what's so unknown about it?

I've remembered what brought me here. I'm hopefully in a coma looking for my brother who's also in a coma. I can't believe I would do such a thing as put myself in a coma. I could have killed myself. I have my children to think about! I hope I get back soon.

And if I'm in a coma how am I here?

I haven't seen many people that can help me, I've only seen one couple, one of their names was Patricia Langtree. I think the others name was Jimmy Brown. Why does that sound familiar?

I'm lost. Like a boat in the middle of an ocean. Surrounded by fog, a deep grey fog.


One week and 6 days. I remember coming here when I was younger. I remember Jimmy Brown and Miss Langtree. I remember potatoes and molasses. I remember there being a beast. I beat the beast though...right? I'll have to ask someone.

I have been seeing more and more people. My anxiety don't plague me now. Like an illness. Tearing down everyone that meets it. Bringing them to an eternal darkness, leaving them forever alone. To wallow in misery and anxiety.


I've come across the tavern. I remember this place. They told me of the beast, even if they were a bit off.

"Hello?"

"Hello, what brings you to my inn?" The inn keeper said. She doesn't seem to remember me.

"I was wondering if you could tell me about the beast?"

"What is the beast? I've never heard of it. Have any of you heard of it?" She yelled to the others in the tavern. They all denied it. "See? Now why don't you sit down and tell us who you are."

Ah yes they're big on labels, I almost forgot. "I'm the pilgrim on a sacred journey. Trying to meet my destiny."

They asked me about a bunch a questions ("what's your quest?" "Where do you think the compass inside your heart will lead you?")

I seem to be here before the beast came. I wouldn't doubt it with the weird flow of time. It reminds me of my mind, the flow of thoughts, scattered like leaves, hard to catch, tough to keep. But enough of that.

I hope Greg is here. I mean it's almost summer.

I just hope he's okay...

And alive.