The journal of odd occurences

Return.

I've... Returned. I am nor dead nor alive. Simply in between the two realms as if a ghost, wandering the world unseen. Often, I am reminded of the past. Most memories drift smoothly in and out of my head. However, in between those, one slips away and plays before me. It tells of dreadful things and horrid wishes and twisted dreams. The mere whisper of who I had been before. When I see it, a thought crosses my mind. What if we had no capability to recall memories at all?

But then.. We would share no bonds with others. We'd learn nothing and know nothing and be nothing. There'd be emptiness in our minds and in our hearts. What could we be, without memories to guide us? Soulless shells. We'd never learn how to walk. How to eat. How to speak. But without memories we couldn't possibly need those things. We'd simply be... Nothing.

With that, I accept the past as it is. I force myself to move on once more, in hopes that the memory will never cross paths with my mind again. Yet, I always know, deep inside, that they most certainly will. The gears of my mind never do stop turning. No ones' mind will cease to function; however, mine.. It is so complex and full of melancholic sorrow that often even I cannot comprehend it. It does so many things, learns so many things, and it is full of knowledge and memories and pain. One might say that the heart is the true holder of pain and sorrow; that would only be partly true. You see, the heart contains the emotions. It feels. The mind thinks and the mind sees. The mind contains the memories that cause us pain. In truth, they both know of pain. The heart feels it, and the mind sees it. In this way, they teach each other about sorrow.

My train of thought continues to grow ever so complex still. I may speak simply to close friends, but in my head I am thinking over a billion things and processing trillions of words. I am seeing and I am feeling. With every sentence, I see. I hear. I feel. The urge to put it all down nags at me day after day. I cannot tell it to them, my dear friends, because they surely wouldn't comprehend it. And so, here I am. Perhaps even you shall not comprehend it. For what I am about to tell you will deem me mad.

Once, I thought of the name "Wolf". You see, names are swirls of color and energy. They are bound to every soul with an iron grip. The way my mind functions is... Odd. Even more so than it ever had been. Now, certain words trigger images. Visions, one might say. I'll suddenly see an individuals' memories, or view a symbolic image of their self and emotions. I only found out this quite recently. When I thought of the name "Wolf."

I saw a forest, with birch trees and brown trees and bright green leaves that hung loosely on branches. There were streams and no grass, simply earth to trample upon and earth to see. It was full of life and energy. Wonderful energy. And then, the further I delved into it, the darker it turned. The forest began crumbling. A darkness, so vivid and so terrifying, spread over the trees and the frightened animals. It spread until it swallowed the whole being of the forest. The colors were drained and gray, the animals were long gone and dead, and the shadow of a being danced on the brown earth. It was hellish and twisted and wrong.

And then there was a boy. He stood over a crystal blue lake of which reflected the sky. His back was to me, yet I could feel the loss which radiated off him. The melancholy, the sadness. I noticed that he had no reflection. Perhaps.. The boy had lost himself. The forest was alight with life once more, as if nothing had occurred at all. And that was that.

In my dreams, I continue seeing forests. Strange forests that look similar to this one. I'm unsure what my mind may be attempting to communicate, but I am hoping to find out. As for my wretched dreams, I will make a seperate chapter.