Journal Entry 27
There it is again. That feeling that I’ve done this before. That I’ve experienced this action, this moment, more times then I can count. Sure, everyone has this thought now and again. But the sensation is coming more frequently then before. Two, maybe even three times a day. It’s like I’m not just experiencing something I have before, I’m living a life that I’ve lived before. And it always ends the same.
Journal Entry 31
It’s been nearly a month since I first wrote of the deja vu. My doctor says that keeping this journal is supposed to help me. As if re-reading it will make better able to distinguish between reality and fantasy. Why would I ever re-read anything? Isn’t that the problem I’m having? That I’m going through the motions of a future already past?
I had a breakdown two weeks ago. That’s why I didn’t write. I don’t even know why I’m still keeping up with this journal. Maybe it’s because I need someone to know the truth, should what I fear happen. Right before I lost it, I saw something. Call it the future, maybe. I don’t know anymore. It’s harder and harder to tell now from later. But in that moment of knowing, I saw. I saw a bus slam into a sidewalk full of pedestrians. Right in front of me. It nearly hit me, as well. Naturally, I was startled. I screamed and ducked. Tears streaming down my face, I dared to look up when the dust settled. All I saw was concerned faces staring at me. There was no bus. No sidewalk full of battered bodies. I had been covered in blood, but was now clean. I yelled at them to listen to me. I tried to warn them of what was coming. But it was no use. They called the cops and the paramedics. They took me away. They pushed an injection into my body. As I began to drift from the drug, I heard it over the radio. Where I had just been, what I had just seen, it happened. I only had the when wrong. The doctors later confirmed the crash, but didn’t believe I had foreseen it. They figured that my drug induced state, coupled with what I overheard on the radio, which I had stupidly brought up in an effort to justify myself, was a delusion. They want to keep me medicated. But I’m not going to do it. Things are strange enough without adding mind altering complications.
I’m beginning to understand. I think I piece it together around this time, every time. It’s never quite quick enough. I feel like what I need to know is on the tip of my brain. Just out of reach. Here’s what I do know. Things are getting clearer. That sensation of deja vu is almost constant. At first, it was like a seizure. It would come on, overwhelm me, and leave me disoriented. Now, it’s merely like being on a boat. An ever present hint of motion. I can handle that. I’m learning to balance the now from the later. It’s like walking in two worlds. I see what will happen, and what is happening. I try mostly to focus on the now. I see the future nearly constantly. Never more then a few minutes, and most of the time it isn’t exciting. So far, I haven’t been able to change anything. I wonder why I’d be allowed to see it if I can’t effect it? Perhaps knowledge isn’t always power.
I thought I had a handle on things. I got swept up in a strong episode. I got put back in the psych ward. My therapist won’t see me anymore unless I agree to take his drugs. They gave them to me against my will while I was locked up. Said I was a danger to myself. They’re a danger to me. Since I had their medicine, I’ve had trouble on seeing the now. I live ever in the future. It makes it hard to do anything. Some days all I know is that I will be sitting in an empty room. I held it together long enough to get out. But I worry that soon I’ll be so far gone that I’ll live in a catatonic state. I can’t let that happen.
Time is running short. My story is almost at an end. Or, wait. No. My story is almost at it’s beginning. It’s so hard to keep these things straight. Is the past the future? Or, is the future the past? Maybe it’s all the same. What I do know is this: I have lived this life before. I’m not a clairvoyant. Not exactly. I just can perceive things better than most. There is no past, no future. At least, not beyond this life. Once it ends, it just begins again back at the start of it. Not reincarnation, exactly. Because I keep getting reincarnated into myself. I think everyone does. It’s a scary thought. Being reborn isn’t that different from death. You lose all of your memories. And isn’t that what makes you you to begin with? I think so. Of course, I’m getting mine back. But it’s at a cost.
I know it’s been a while since I last wrote. This will be my last entry. I had a lot to come to terms with. I think I’ve accepted it now. Soon, I won’t be able to write in you anymore, anyway. I’ve seen my future. It’s short, and it’s uneventful. Well, until the end. And that will happen soon enough. It always does. I say this is my last entry, but I know that come the next go around, I’ll start this book over. With any luck, next time I’ll remember more sooner. Or maybe, not at all. Yes. I think that’d be best.