Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Jack and the Beanstalk (The Ending)

October 7 2008
Ok I'm calm now. Lucky I found you here sitting on this dresser or I would have nothing. Apparently, I am quite the organized person. Who knows? I woke up on the floor of this apartment, I don't know..6 am or so. I'm pretty high up in this building and I had a major freak out looking out the window; this is the city! I don't think I like the city. I don't remember. I can't remember a damn thing. My head hurts.  I guess that's what's expected. I'm only calm now because I figure this sort of thing is temporary. I mean this stuff feels vaguely familiar, I should snap out of this soon...right? I got this overwhelming feeling that I should be doing something..something particular, but for the life of me I don't know what it is.

Ok I went and looked in the mirrror and now Im' mushc more safraid. WHat the hhell??? I think I aneedd to go to the ahosapital but a  where hte hell is that?!? I got a pen and notebook an d it's my only bearings.  This will be funny later..right? I don'r feel drunk..
Alright I'm asking the neighbors for help.

November 1 2008
So, "Marcus" and "Charles" say my name is Jack. I'm not a very social type too. But I'm not surprised, I feel they are telling me the truth... it just feels like it's me. I didn't want to talk to them at all so I figure they're right. I don't like people. Probably the reason it took me a few days just to walk outside and get some help.
I did go to the hospital (I want to note the name of the street but I don't know it and apparently people don't talk much of it because other people can't remember what street it's on either..they just remember the one main street). So they didn't help me at all. But what's strange is that there were 9 other cases of people with my story who had been sitting in there since the first day I noticed my problem condition. What's funny is, I talked to them as if to get some answers but...uh yeah, we can't remember anything. I felt stupid, I actually asked one what his name was. I'm not completely sure I know what my name is to respond to him with.
These other cases seem suspicious to me, though. It seems that something weird is going on and I feel like I should figure it out but I feel sick at my stomach when I think about it.

December 1 2008
Apparently amnesia effects all different parts of the brain. I can't believe I didn't think to just grab a paper and see what's going on. Perhaps I'm a recluse and the only bearings I have are in current events..? So, I found a dollar on my kitchen counter and went down stairs and bought a paper. At first I didn't understand how bad "Housing Crisis" or "Market Collapse" was, but after reading, I got a pretty good impression. It made me even more sick to my stomach. I don't understand what is going on. I feel helpless...hopeless. I feel like this is going to get the best of me and I can't do anything about it. When I was on the street I felt like I could just feel this collective mourning for what was happening all around us. And I don't understand. Isn't this a wealthy nation? I can't help myself and it looks like I have to pay for it. I got some eight bills slipped through my slot today and I can't tell if they are accurate or someone taking advantage of me. Could it be that somehow it's real easy to figure out if some bloke has lost his bearings and now you can just send him some sort of bill ro something?>! Who is this Wells and what the hellll do I have to do with him? Im goint to end up on the street beging for someone to tell me what the hell is going on just to make it through the day in some vain hope that all this will make sense someday and I'll just come out ahead and I'll remem ber some bank account that has millions in it and I"m ok, alright just fine....        
Get a better appartment.
Start something new and better.
Better than whatever I had before all this.
It's all too hard....My stomach aches.

Tomorrow this cop wants to talk to me. Says he's got questions for me. Real suspicious guy. I wish there were good words for how uncomfortable he makes me feel. It's all bull...heh, I remember some bull or something. It's like the world has found me g collapsed all over me. Picked me out of everyone and said, "it's your time, Jack (or whatever), it's your time to suffer and bleed because that's just how it works. You seem to be doing well and now it's your time. Don't try to figure it all out, just let it all happen; let it all justify your being... "
So, I'm going to have to tell this cop I don't know what's going on just for him to not believe me and lock me up and destroy the little bit of hope I have in that I can wake up and remember everything and find that mystical bank account and fly to neverland.
I don

December 2 2008
So,


This is it.

This is everything.

But what is it anyway?      Is it my fault?
There's all these people.
No one understands. I see all this            in the papers and no one understnads.
I don't understand.
I dont rem


If I could go back and tell myself that things would be some certain way and that I should prepare for anything I most definitely would but that is not possible. Now I'm here and this is the way life is. I can now feel the end approaching. I feel like my life has ended. There is no hope of climbing out of this well. I see no positive change approaching. The neverland is only fantasy. For me, I will live in doom. I will serve my sentence. I will face what is the conceived truth. No matter how true or false it is. We are all subject to the conceived truth. Whether you are guilty or not, even whether any crime has been committed, we are all subject the conceived truth.
I think on some level this is what everyone desires: to wake up and not remember all their faults...not remember all their shortcomings...not remember why they need to stay moving in this mechanical nightmare doing whatever for whoever or pleasing someone they don't have any positive feelings for. It's like we all live in someone else's fantasy. We're the slaves. We want to wake up and pretend we forget the reasons we go on benefiting some person we've never met. We want to start over... Because we all feel like we'd be better if we did. Even if it costs us our memories.
We hate ourselves.
But when someone at the top rel

But it doesn't matter.
I have nothing else to go on.
This journal was my only bearings and it seems to be useless. No one believes and it's not admissible in court. I put my hope in it. and it's worthless.
So this is it.

I never forgot.

It's all a lie.








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