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Echoes of the Unknown

Sleep is worse. Not insomnia — the opposite. I sleep fine and wake up already tired, like something else used the hours.

Twice this month I dreamed about a document before I found it. The second time I dreamed the exact page number.

I am not writing that as a claim. I am writing it because if I don't write it down immediately I will talk myself out of it by morning, and I want a record of what I actually experienced before I do that.

Working theory, unchanged from month one: whatever this is, it is neurological, it is genetic, and it is real in a small number of people. Everything else — the coincidences, the dreams, the feeling that I am reading a file that is also somehow reading me — I am choosing to treat as noise until I have a reason not to.