Feel like the world's off my back for some reason. Feel better. maybe not great, but good. Everything's started to feel realer than it was after I woke up. I mean, I still have questions, but I'm starting to develop a groove.
I've rediscovered Philly cheesesteaks apparently, with honey mustard, collectible card games, and cancelled cartoons.
It seems I am quite the manchild.
This depresses me, but I'm new at being me, so I get to change things up. Really, it's a whole new life ahead of me. The feeling is
something, its something. Can't really put it into words.
I've asked Kayleen if we lived together, and thankfully the answer was no. I couldn't handle having someone near me full time right now. She understands. I just need to readjust to things. Her, my 'pare....oh fuck it, my parents. I'm starting to think they really are my flesh and blood. Got pictures and shit too. That handsome devil in there sure looks like me.
Got that line from Portal 2. Played that a little. Its sort of fun. I don't really have any feeling at all towards puzzles, but I can appreciate it at least, and the voice acting was amazing. So, good game.
I didn't have much of a job, so that's going to be an issue. Apparently working part time in a bakery warehouse does not count for FLMA. So fuck you Sunbeam. This puts me at square one for just about everything. Got a life to reinvent.
All in all, its not so bad
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Stupid shit
Such an idiot. I fell asleep at 'my' place. Got woken up by a sobbing frantic 'Kayleen'. Apparently I fell asleep as I scrutinized the computer there.
and then I had to listen to the standard soap opera drill
where were you
i was so worried
do you even know what you're doing?
can't you see you need help?
we're just trying to help you.
I clenched my fist as she wailed and phoned every damn person I was told that I know. I ended up yelling at her, telling her everything.
I accused her of being in on whatever play this is, and demanded to know why she was doing this to me.
She cried. Shit, I was feeling bad, I mean everytime she does that I wonder if I'm just fucked up in the head.
I found myself apologizing, and admitted that it was hard readjusting to life. She hugged me, and sobbed into my shoulder, as I tried to be strong.
Kayleen was so warm, and yet, so wrong.
Why?
What the fuck's wrong with me that I have to throw suspicion on everything.
Maybe everything is meant to be like this.
and then I had to listen to the standard soap opera drill
where were you
i was so worried
do you even know what you're doing?
can't you see you need help?
we're just trying to help you.
I clenched my fist as she wailed and phoned every damn person I was told that I know. I ended up yelling at her, telling her everything.
I accused her of being in on whatever play this is, and demanded to know why she was doing this to me.
She cried. Shit, I was feeling bad, I mean everytime she does that I wonder if I'm just fucked up in the head.
I found myself apologizing, and admitted that it was hard readjusting to life. She hugged me, and sobbed into my shoulder, as I tried to be strong.
Kayleen was so warm, and yet, so wrong.
Why?
What the fuck's wrong with me that I have to throw suspicion on everything.
Maybe everything is meant to be like this.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Vuja De
The feeling you've done something you've never done before.
Or something like that.
I checked myself out of the hospital. Tried to at least, turns out they're not too keen on people in my 'condition' doing so without a guardian. I didn't even think that's legal, considering I'm well over 21. So I snuck out. Nothing to brag about, it was pretty easy. I had a change of clothes with me I had asked 'those people' for, which fit me. I snagged a bus over to what my driver's license says is my home, or at least was at the time of the picture.
I got off the bus, near the apartment complex. Just a few moments before I realized I didn't have any keys to work with. Well, why wouldn't I have keys available? This is just proof how all this is just a cover up, right? I walked around that place several times, looking for signs of life, of activity. Of me, even. But brick walls don't really give you a lot of clues to work with.
So I broke in, to a place I, at one time, 'lived'. There's a little fenced-in yard that I got into, and the sliding door wasn't that hard to get past, but I did have to force it. No one was in there, else I'd be writing this from the local jail.
I don't think County has wi-fi.
The pad was pretty believable. Don't get me wrong, it doesn't 'fit'. It's not part of my puzzle, but it looks like a bachelor pad.
Even has some posters on the wall of Megan Fox. Too bad she can't act. Of course now I wonder if I have a 'type' or a 'crush' on anyone. Even if I did, I guess, how can I know it's real? Why the fuck am I the star of this shitty ass Truman Show?
Not really much to say about the place, I think I'm going to raid the fridge, scour the computer and GTFO before more shit happens.
Or something like that.
I checked myself out of the hospital. Tried to at least, turns out they're not too keen on people in my 'condition' doing so without a guardian. I didn't even think that's legal, considering I'm well over 21. So I snuck out. Nothing to brag about, it was pretty easy. I had a change of clothes with me I had asked 'those people' for, which fit me. I snagged a bus over to what my driver's license says is my home, or at least was at the time of the picture.
I got off the bus, near the apartment complex. Just a few moments before I realized I didn't have any keys to work with. Well, why wouldn't I have keys available? This is just proof how all this is just a cover up, right? I walked around that place several times, looking for signs of life, of activity. Of me, even. But brick walls don't really give you a lot of clues to work with.
So I broke in, to a place I, at one time, 'lived'. There's a little fenced-in yard that I got into, and the sliding door wasn't that hard to get past, but I did have to force it. No one was in there, else I'd be writing this from the local jail.
I don't think County has wi-fi.
The pad was pretty believable. Don't get me wrong, it doesn't 'fit'. It's not part of my puzzle, but it looks like a bachelor pad.
Even has some posters on the wall of Megan Fox. Too bad she can't act. Of course now I wonder if I have a 'type' or a 'crush' on anyone. Even if I did, I guess, how can I know it's real? Why the fuck am I the star of this shitty ass Truman Show?
Not really much to say about the place, I think I'm going to raid the fridge, scour the computer and GTFO before more shit happens.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Blank Wall, Blank Wall
This place is getting on my nerves. More tests, always more tests. EKGs and brain scans, hormone checks.
Had some newer version of a spinal tap that was a bitch.
"Mother" brought me a gamecube, said it was mine from back in the day, had a Sonic game in it. At least its something to do, other than watch boring ass television.
Shitty ass soap operas. My LIFE is a soap opera. I had to tell all these people just to give me a few days away from them. I guess they understood, since they've let me be, for a bit. Now I can finally think to myself without all the fake compassion and crocodile tears. This isn't my life.
Well I'm going to find out what it is, that I'm missing. I'm getting out of here.
The only question now is where to go?
Had some newer version of a spinal tap that was a bitch.
"Mother" brought me a gamecube, said it was mine from back in the day, had a Sonic game in it. At least its something to do, other than watch boring ass television.
Shitty ass soap operas. My LIFE is a soap opera. I had to tell all these people just to give me a few days away from them. I guess they understood, since they've let me be, for a bit. Now I can finally think to myself without all the fake compassion and crocodile tears. This isn't my life.
Well I'm going to find out what it is, that I'm missing. I'm getting out of here.
The only question now is where to go?
Friday, September 9, 2011
Actor on a stage
I feel like an actor on a stage today. Put before a group of people and told who they are, and expected to find emotions for them, yet knowing it is just pretending. I was reintroduced to my 'family' a few days ago. Four strangers all huddled close over me, smiling wide, leaning over me, staring.
My 'mother' introduced herself to me first. Vicki is her name, and I fully intend to call her that, here at least. Though I don't know these people, I *can* see the labored pain when I use a formal name like that, frankly I'd rather not have to deal with that.
She's 47, dark hair, starting to gray a little. Seems nice enough, kept touching me, seems to be in charge.
My 'father' is named Kenneth. He's a tall balding man with a weird sense of humor, always laughing at the dumbest things, sometimes even at the drop of a hat. Really informal. I don't know what to make of him.
Apparently I have a brother too, who looks like some sort of hipster hippie. Apparently he's done stuff for humanitarian aid for Cuba. Good for him. Talked way too damn much about feelings.
And because this sordid little lie wouldn't be complete without the conclusion of a 'perfect standard family', whoever is directing this play, gave me a girlfriend. Kayleen. I had to ask her to stop touching me a few times, and it seemed to hurt her feelings.
I guess I feel a little bad about that.
Its just, the thing is, everything seems so scripted! Asking me how I am, and what I remember, talking about 'the past'. I keep telling them I don't know any 'past', not with them.
They wouldn't even give me a straight answer as to what happened to me. All I've been able to pry out of them, was that I live alone, and that somewhere around a month ago or so, I was discovered unconscious, and have been since.
No medical explanation AT ALL.
And now I'm supposed to start seeing a shrink.
I don't want to answer any questions, it's pissing me off enough writing about it here, last thing I want to do is discuss my feelings to a bunch of damn strangers.
This hospital is shit, these people are shit, and I need out of here.
and they won't leave me alone.
My 'mother' introduced herself to me first. Vicki is her name, and I fully intend to call her that, here at least. Though I don't know these people, I *can* see the labored pain when I use a formal name like that, frankly I'd rather not have to deal with that.
She's 47, dark hair, starting to gray a little. Seems nice enough, kept touching me, seems to be in charge.
My 'father' is named Kenneth. He's a tall balding man with a weird sense of humor, always laughing at the dumbest things, sometimes even at the drop of a hat. Really informal. I don't know what to make of him.
Apparently I have a brother too, who looks like some sort of hipster hippie. Apparently he's done stuff for humanitarian aid for Cuba. Good for him. Talked way too damn much about feelings.
And because this sordid little lie wouldn't be complete without the conclusion of a 'perfect standard family', whoever is directing this play, gave me a girlfriend. Kayleen. I had to ask her to stop touching me a few times, and it seemed to hurt her feelings.
I guess I feel a little bad about that.
Its just, the thing is, everything seems so scripted! Asking me how I am, and what I remember, talking about 'the past'. I keep telling them I don't know any 'past', not with them.
They wouldn't even give me a straight answer as to what happened to me. All I've been able to pry out of them, was that I live alone, and that somewhere around a month ago or so, I was discovered unconscious, and have been since.
No medical explanation AT ALL.
And now I'm supposed to start seeing a shrink.
I don't want to answer any questions, it's pissing me off enough writing about it here, last thing I want to do is discuss my feelings to a bunch of damn strangers.
This hospital is shit, these people are shit, and I need out of here.
and they won't leave me alone.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Frustrated Amnesiac
I don't know who I am.
All I know is that there's something going on. Maybe a conspiracy, maybe its paranoia.
I woke up from some sort of catatonic stupor sometime around a month ago, just snapped out of a coma.
And something is wrong.
Caden Chambers, it says on my driver's license, but that's not right. I keep getting the feeling that something's been hidden from me. I can't imagine what it is, but I started this blog, as a way to put down on paper, or rather electronically, my feelings, as I lay here in a hospital bed, trying to unscramble myself. Figure out what happened. Maybe its just shock, paranoia from whatever happened to me to put me here.
It just feels wrong.
God, how am I supposed to figure out who I am, when everyone feels like a bad actor in some gaslight production? I just expect everyone at any moment to rip their faces off and be some sort of alien, revealing the grand deception to me.
Something is wrong with me.
But how do I find out what it is?
All I know is that there's something going on. Maybe a conspiracy, maybe its paranoia.
I woke up from some sort of catatonic stupor sometime around a month ago, just snapped out of a coma.
And something is wrong.
Caden Chambers, it says on my driver's license, but that's not right. I keep getting the feeling that something's been hidden from me. I can't imagine what it is, but I started this blog, as a way to put down on paper, or rather electronically, my feelings, as I lay here in a hospital bed, trying to unscramble myself. Figure out what happened. Maybe its just shock, paranoia from whatever happened to me to put me here.
It just feels wrong.
God, how am I supposed to figure out who I am, when everyone feels like a bad actor in some gaslight production? I just expect everyone at any moment to rip their faces off and be some sort of alien, revealing the grand deception to me.
Something is wrong with me.
But how do I find out what it is?
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