Diary

Day 7778:

A bird perched on the window. Made me look outside, onto the restless sea crashing its waves against the cold shore of my former motherland. Former, I say, because I cannot agree to love a mother who damned me to this fate. I wanted to murder the bird, the sea, the sky, the wind… One cannot do things like that.

Day 7779:

In my mind, I replayed brutal scenes from my previous life. I was not a hero, but a mericless brute. I spent most of my day in this fashion.

Day 7780:

My imprisonment has affected my mind, I can no longer recall her face, or her name, or where we met, or how we lived, or how we loved. I am not even certain there ever was a she. I long for a conversation, my guards are all mutes. Or might as well be.

Day 7781:

It is all my fault, because I never cherished what I had. In my previous life, I always looked forward into the future, always chasing, never enjoying the catch. Eating a piece of cake, I thought of another. Reading a wonderful poem, I thought of another. Standing in the presence of a sweet landscape, I thought of another. Caressing a woman, I thought of another. Sadly, now I feel the gravity of every moment I spend here. I had never lived before this.

Day 7782:

The cheese I ate today was especially pungent.

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