12 September 1988
Dear diary, I think I’m dead. I know it’s not a nice statement to start the day with but, some strange things happened to me today. I will start with writing about yesterday night because apparently, I didn’t.
The last thing I remember is that I was at the bar, alone, drinking my whisky and feeling pity for myself, it’s been a hard week because I had no inspiration and couldn’t paint anything and, the big exhibition is in a few days. So, I was at the bar, I remember I left for one minute to go to the bathroom, then I went back and took a sip of my drink and that’s the moment I remember last.
This morning I woke up in my bed, went to the kitchen to eat breakfast but there was no orange juice so I went to the store. When I entered I said “Hi” to the cashier but she ignored me, that’s fine, it wasn’t the first time she ignored me. Walking through the store I bumped into someone, I smiled and said “Sorry”, but the woman didn’t say anything, acted like she didn’t hear me. I cleared my throat and said again louder but, she just walked away.
That was the moment I started getting suspicious so I took a cup off the shelf and threw it on the floor, the cashier got scared, came, cleaned and didn’t say a word. I went out of the store and bumped into a man but he just walked away. Things got even scarier when another woman passed right beside me with her dog, the little white dog started barking and the woman kept saying “There’s nothing there you stupid dog, come on!”.
So now I just stay in bed, writing, to see what’s the next thing I can do. There has to be something to do, and I think I will go to the bar, someone must have seen something.