I guess I'm back. I have no idea what's going on. My head hurts, I can barely sleep... Anya's said I was sleepwalking last night, but to where she had no idea because she stopped me and corralled me back to bed. I can really understand why I always thought she was so odd, now. It's because she has to live with all this shit that neither of understand, with the only contact to the outside world being internet, television, and some freaks neither of us even know can be trusted. I swear, the next time they come over I'm going to do things that aren't going to be told here. I don't even know if they read this blog, and if they do then I don't want them knowing my plans.
Then there's all these notes. Now, I've seen some of the notes from before, and they had a distinctly chaotic writing. These are different. The handwriting is different. I don't know if Anya notices it, but I do. Hell, my friends and I used to study different handwritings so we could forge signatures for school trips and all that. I really would know whether or not it's different. The messages are different, too. They're still cryptic, yeah, but fucking hell... It's like the "mysterious person" was replaced with freakin' Hannibal Lector. I could just imagine them being read in that kind of voice, too.
Damn this noise. Damn it. I can't think. Everything I've thought in the past ten minutes has been written down here. I'm not even going to check this thing for anything out of place. I'll leave it exactly as is. I think I'm gonna go now. I'm definitely going to go now. Man. This is bullshit. Fucking bullshit. Man, I'm gonna go. At least when I get off of here I have a friend who can give me working advice. Sorry guys, I know you try to help, but in this situation Anya knows best. Okay, so I'm just gonna go now. Maybe play a game or take a nap.