Dearest sister,

Sometimes I can’t remember my own name. It sounds so foreign to me when others say it. Who am I really? Are my memories truly mine? Or are they just another part of my imagination.

I can not tell reality from dreams any more. Sometimes I wake up disappointmente in things that never happened, sometimes I can’t react to things that truly did.

What’s wrong with me, dear sister?

Why can’t I remember my own face?

Why are all my memories of me looking down. As if someone else is living through me.

Sister, who am I ?

Do you even know?

In this never ending nightmare, what part of me is just for show?