Vorkault 32, 259: End

This is my last entry ... at least for this journal.


Ỏ̶̺͍͖̖̤̺̠̪̝̈́̆̏͊̓̾̊̎̋͒̾̓̈́͜͠R̵̟͚̜͇͎̮͓̪̐͂̀͒̈́̓̒̐̈́̎̂̐́͝Ç̵̨͇̣̪̝͕̬̯̟̱͊͒͌̔̀͑̀̓͠Ư̷̫̰̬̯͙̰̦̹̜̼̆̿S̴̘̭̙̋̓͑̓̏̔͑̓N̵͕͎̝̫̯̙̰͓͂͗̍̎̎̆͘̕S̷̝̗̻̑O̶͙̟̥͊̉̊̈́̑͗̐̊̽͜Ű̵̧͖̠̤̭̆̂̑͌͛̓̌́̽́̂̀Ḧ̷̦̟̳̭̟̹̘̥́͗̀̐̇̒͂́͝ has given me a journal.

If I write in it she will be remembered.
As I write I can feel the memories flooding the pages. At the end of the day it gets brought into...The World?
The...thing?
I have a way to remember her. I can keep going. How Long? I don't know.
But...I write, I provide her memories. I will remember her.
I'll continue to wander though.
Making new memories as I forget her...

Authors

• The Writer