I am dead. I don’t know how, I don’t know why, and I don’t know for how long. But I know I am dead. When I go in a room no one notices me. If they do see me they run away screaming. That means I’m probably a ghost, right? I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t know anyone that’s around me, in this place. I can find my way around, but it’s so strange. I don’t remember anything at all. I don’t know who I am. What does that mean? I can’t remember my name. Am I me if I don’t even know my name?

What was I talking about? Who are you? I’m…damn, I don’t know. You’re reading my words but I can’t tell you who I am. I don’t know, call me anything you want. It doesn’t matter if you’re wrong, how would I know anyway? I don’t know where I am. Is this Heaven? Hell? My own personal hell? What would that even mean? There’s nothing bad…just not a lot here. There’s me, now you…the people who don’t notice me because I’m dead. I keep reminding myself of that, that I’m dead. Maybe that’s why I know that instead of forgetting. I forget everything. Wait, who are you again?

I don’t think I sleep anymore. I don’t remember sleeping lately. Do ghosts need sleep? What if I am asleep right now? Maybe this is a dream and I’ll wake up soon. I think that would be nice. I think I’ve been here for so long, and you’re the only person I have to talk to. I don’t know what life I’d have if this is a dream. Maybe it’s better if I don’t know. I can’t miss what I don’t know, right? Right. Would you?

It’s so dark. I don’t know what time it is, or what day. Is it day? I don’t think I remember the sun. Or warmth. Everything’s…the same. Same colors, same temperature, same feel, same silence, same scent, same nothing. Nothing. It’s all nothing. I think. What is nothing? I don’t remember what I was saying. I think I’m dead. Is death nothing? Everything is so bland, there’s something missing. Something big. Life? Whatever my life was. Was it worth anything? Who am I? Am I nothing? If I’m nothing, did I even have a life? Would that still mean I’m dead? I wish I knew.

Oh, you’re still here. I forgot you were here. Did you tell me who you are? I don’t remember. What’s your name? I’m sure you have a nice name, and a nice life. Any life is better than being dead, right? Right. I wish I knew who I was. At least I know who you are. Do you know who you are? I hope you do. I still wish I knew my name. Did I say that before? I don’t know who I am, but at least I know who you are. I’m dead, you’re alive. I don’t know my name, but I know yours. I have no home, but…I’m sure you’re very comfortable in yours right now. It must be nice to know things, to not forget. I’ve forgotten so much.

Wait…I remember something…you. I know you. I know you’re reading this, and I know we’re alone. I’m in your head already, aren’t I? I know I’m dead, but being alive is so much better than being dead. There’s a game I play, the knowing game. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s fun. So, you know who you are, but I don’t know who I am. You know where you live, but I’m dead. That’s a little unfair, isn’t it? Seems like you get all the good stuff. But I do know things, because I’m in your mind right now, talking to you. I know who you are, and where you live, and work, and everything. I know nothing about me, and everything about you.

I don’t know a lot. But I know that I’m in your head, and the mind has a lot of information in it. Like how to get to your house, and how to get in. I know I’m dead. I don’t know for how long, or why, or how I died. I just know I’m dead. But I know how to find you, and I’m sure it’s not too hard to possess someone, right? Right.