The Memoirs of Theolon

Go away.

I don't want you reading this. It wasn't meant for you.

Frankly, it wasn't made for anyone else, either. I didn't write this for any sole purpose other than to keep myself sane during the millennia I spent deserted and alone. I wrote this, this useless memoir, so that one day I wouldn't end up killing myself in spite, because I knew all-too-well that there was nothing left to live for.
Not bored yet?

"Why, Theolon, I'm ever-so-interested in your depressing monologues, keep on going, will you?"

It's your funeral.

I said I didn't want anyone reading this, didn't I? I lied.

So read on, confidant. Venture forward into the desolate lands of Soirwe, journey through the deepest recesses of the mind that is mine.

Which means open the damn book already. It's not going to do it for you.

Trigger warnings: depression, suicide.