What happens when you cannot remember half of the things you do in life? When you need to keep track of said things, so as to not get into awkward situations? Then you add a borderline sociopathic girl into the mix?
Simple, you get a dairy/journal...
"Here." Misty handed what she had procured for Tyler over to his awaiting hands. She was quite proud of her work, rocking back and forth on her feet in anticipation. She had to contain herself, to stop herself from blurting out the concept of her gift before Tyler could examine it for himself.
"What is it?" Tyler asked, eyeing the offending object. With a frown, he turned in over in his hands, as though that would make the answer clear to him.
"A book." Misty replied chirpily. Tyler's continuous stare at the book he held in his hands confused her, considering what he was holding was self-explanatory and did not need further expansion. She thought that it simple enough, considering he was a University student, Misty was quire sure Tyler would be familiar with the concept of bound up pages. However, considering Tyler's blank look she decided further expansion was key," a book and a pen?"
"I can see that, what are they for?" Tyler replied, completely confused as to what he could have possibly done to warrant a book and a pen. Taking into consideration Misty's sheer excitement at handing the items over. He wondered if he had missed something involving his alter ego, which was not an alter ego. It seemed he was the one that caused the mischief out the two, usually resulting in bringing him grief.
"Your very own diary, slash journal, slash whatever you consider to be manly. Think of it as anecdotes to yourself. You know, like one of those family planners. You tell Tyler 2.0 how you have spent your day, and he in turn tells you the same. Then you'll be more on par with the happenings of your life, and you won't have any mishaps that lead to seizures anymore. It'll be like the movie 'Your Name' by Makoto Shinkai, I think I pronounced that correctly. Except you know, you won't fall in love with yourself. Unless you're a narcissist, are you a narcissist? This could very well end up being a Loki situation... please don't disturb the timeline. That's not the point, write in the book or, I'll hurt you." Misty explained, finishing off with a threat for extra measure.
"My dairy?"
"Slash journal, slash whatever is manly." Misty added.
"To tell Tyler 2.0 what I've been doing the whole day?"
"And for him to tell you what he has done," Misty added once again. Why Tyler needed a repeat of the simplest concept known to men, was unbeknownst to her. But, as long as his brain eventually caught on, she did not care.
"This is absolutely, ridiculous." Tyler let out. He could not think of a more preposterous idea, even if he was given all the time in the world.
"About as ridiculous as someone claiming you've done something and you vehemently denying it, leading you to have a seizure I imagine?" Misty's blunt response left Tyler with no response. "I thought so. Take the book and write, or else I'll hurt you."
"Wait, did you say Tyler 2.0!?"
---
This was stupid. Tyler could not believe he was seriously contemplating this. Misty had informed him that she would tell Tyler 2.0 about the provision she had gifted them. But, he was finding it difficult to will his brain into picking up the pen. He had to admit, it was a beautiful book. It reminded him of a Captain's ship log. Leather bound, and full of character. There was no doubt Misty had paid good dollar for the book. That, and the pen which were both engraved with his name. Now if only, the book did not have that title constantly judging him, Tyler reckons that he would never be able to put said book down. Shaking his head, he continued to observe the offending book, feeling as though it were laughing at him. Frown on his face, he poked it warily, pulling away as soon as he did so as though it were going to jump out at him.
It was a terrible thing, to feel so out of place in your own space. Never had Tyler imagined that his peace would be interrupted by an inanimate object such as a book. He had worked so hard, changing this room into something he could be proud off. Scrapping off old posters and repainting. Fixing all kind of dents in the walls, and removing suspicious stains from the carpet. One could argue that yes, he had better living accommodations compared to everyone else who had to suffer in dorms. But it was not always like that. He had to build this space, creating for himself his very own sanctuary and nothing could make him feel bad about it.
"What are doing?" Startled he turned around in his chair, seeing Dennis in the doorway. Hand on his chest, Tyler tried to calm his racing heart, as Dennis eyed him wearyingly.
"Weird," Dennis made sure to drag the word out, so Tyler would know that he was judging him. "Anyway, what's the book for?" Dennis asked as he moved to pick the book of the table. Raising his eyebrow at the title, he looked to Tyler for answers. "Diary, slash journal, slash whatever is manly? Do I want to know?"
"Misty got for me."
"Ahh," Dennis hummed as though the mere fact that Misty had gotten it for him, validated its existence.
"How come with no context you were sceptical about the book. But, as soon as you know Misty gave it to me, it suddenly makes all the sense in the world?"
"Because, it's Misty. She's all about experiments, and a journal is a scientists greatest tool." Dennis replied as though the reason was as obvious, as grass being green. Throwing the book back on the table, Dennis moved to leave the room, not before turning around to give Tyler one more command, "write."
Seeing no other choice Tyler picked up the book and wrote:
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Snapping the book shut, Tyler once again shook his head in disbelief.
