A Note of Explanation from the Maze of Too Many Thoughts
Hello, dear whoever you are. I really am sorry about all this. You don’t deserve what I’m about to do to you – if you’re reading this, what I’ve already done – but I didn’t deserve to end up here either, so really all this part of the conversation has established is that life is not fair.
The place in which you find yourself is called the Maze of Too Many Thoughts. The Days of the Endless Dreamer. The Lanes of the Living Shadow. Pick a name, any name, it will be just the same no matter what you call it. The part you should find yourself in now, if you have ended up where I left, is the Paper Domain. It is a cross-hatching of corridors, all of them wallpapered in shades of white noise and scrawled everywhere the eye can see with writing that can’t be read. The only thing you will be able to understand are the messages left behind by the departed, like this note. Or at least, I hope you can understand what I’m writing. It would be rather tragic if you couldn’t.
You will no longer need to eat. Or sleep. Or rather, to be brutally honest, you will be unable to do these things – you’ll still want to, but you won’t die when you don’t. It may be best to think of yourself as a ghost from here on in.
What you will have to do is wander. It’s that or burrow, but believe me when I say that there’s no going back after you start digging, and at least here there is light. The only thing to do as you walk the corridors is to read what messages others have left behind, or, if you’re lucky enough to get hold of a scrap of chalk, to write your own.
I don’t know who you are. Maybe the world is better off without you in it. But I do feel bad about what I’ve done, so I’m telling you what it took me a deathtime of haunting this hellish place to learn.
You can write yourself out.
You can write someone else here instead.
I’ve left you the chalk. It’s your choice.
© Faith Mudge 2013