lethargic

[I-0]

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A strange journal locked in a box underneath a young girl's bed.

The handwriting is uncannily neat, proper, calligraphic.

Many sections are crossed, scratched, and some pages are even torn out entirely.

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something about all this still doesn't sit right with me.

that's really silly, isn't it? but i can't help but look at myself in the mirror, and wonder if i'm making

doesn't much matter what i think. never did, truly, nothing's different about that now.

doesn't matter if it's the right thing. it's what i was told -

The following page has been torn out.

but sometimes, whenever i'm staring up at the ceiling because i can't sleep, i really do wish i could forget.

it'd be better that way.

[I-0]

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A new page, in much better condition than the previous one, added several weeks after the first.

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made a friend today. that's what he called it, but it felt like there was something strange about it that i can't quite parse. must investigate further.

did you know that many centuries ago, it wasn't uncommon for a child to go unnamed for their first several years of life, due to the then-much higher child mortality rate?

i just thought that was interesting.