Author's Note
I don’t remember writing all of this.
That’s not a metaphor.
There are pages here I don’t recall thinking, let alone putting into words.
At first, I assumed it was exhaustion. Stress. The usual explanations we give ourselves when something doesn’t feel right.
But then I started noticing patterns.
Sentences repeating.
Moments I was sure I had already written—appearing again, slightly different.
And once…
I found a line I don’t remember typing.
I’m certain of that.
Because it wasn’t written in my voice.
If you notice anything like that while reading—
don’t overthink it.
It’s probably nothing.
Still…
there’s something I should mention.
While working on this book, I kept getting the same feeling.
The kind you don’t question at first.
The kind you’ve probably felt too—
when you’re alone, and suddenly it doesn’t feel like you are anymore.
It happened most when I was writing late at night.
I would stop.
Look around.
Certain that something had just been behind me.
Every time I checked—
nothing was there.
Except once.
I’m not going to explain that.
Just… read normally.
Don’t go back to re-read sections too much.
And if something feels familiar in a way it shouldn’t—
close the book for a while.
Not because it’s dangerous.
Just because…
that’s what I wish I had done.
