Something has been following me ever since I was a little kid. I've never seen it, but I've always felt its presence nearby.
I can't tell if it's good or evil. I just know it can't be from this world, and it somehow ended up here, trapped.
I've got no religion to follow, and there's no explanation to me that can explain this at all.
As far as I can tell, it followed me for a reason, and I ought to find out before I end up losing my mind.
Or worse,
Before I end up losing the only thing that makes me human.
Not so long ago, I had an encounter with it in my dreams.
I couldn't see shit because everything was dark, but I knew as always, I wasn't alone. I could feel it, and I think it might've been possible for us to exchange more than just signs... but I'm still not so sure.
I'll have to try again. But before I do, I want to be prepared.
I've read a lot about these creatures, but I can't be completely certain about them. There's more to them than what I know, and I'm conscious it might become more dangerous if I go deeper from this point on... but I don't mind.
I guess I really wish something else comes out of this.
That, or I just stopped caring about anything at all.
While I'm not fully sure about my reasons, I won't stop to look at them and will continue to hunt further into this.
It can't get darker when you're lost and you can't see the road anymore. I'll figure my way out. Just as I've always done.
Figures, I should at least leave some evidence that this has been going on for real, and that I'm not just a delusional tween that imagines way too much and makes things up.
I know what I've seen and what I've not, and I better write it down before I start getting confused, in hopes to remember where I come from 'till the very end.
If you ever read this, mom, believe me. There are things you'll never understand that exist and that have come to this world. I don't need to have seen them yet, because I know they're real.
Things that clear up memories, mess up with our internal and external shadows, and that can get closer to us if we give them the chance to do so.
I've given mine a chance to tell me more. The only thing left for me to do is figure out what it's trying to say, and help it if I can.
My last reason for writing this is my love for journaling.
A love I discovered I had when we were having a hard rupture in our family years aback, and I felt lonelier than ever. I knew that writing was something I could do to make things better, at least for a while.
I wrote down my emotions with a toddler's messy handwriting and tear washed paper. That's how I realized I had a welcoming place inside my notes, between the books and pens. So I kept hiding in them.
I'm not that little kid anymore, and I've come to find out writing is more than hiding. So I'm not writing this to hide myself anymore.
My shadow, my dreams, even my thoughts are guiding me to somewhere I'm sure is a place I won't be able to traverse that easily. But I guess that's the way it has to be.
I hope you understand.
─ Randy, 19 sept. 2025