As I am writing this, my eyes are already heavy. I was not like this. I have never failed so severely in my life. I was one of the ingenious men who could simplify any arduous task. I have lost my ability with time. All I now see is gloom. I have lost my purpose. I have lost my companions, I have lost my love, and most importantly I have lost myself. Whenever I look into the mirror, I can’t even find any similarity between the man in the mirror and me. Any staring into his eyes more than half a second sends me into the depth of Tartarus. I am scared of myself. I need to call out to someone for help. The Power, I call it Dominion. I believe in it. I believe that I can take help from it. Powers stronger than black magic or white magic, and beyond any sorcery, witchcraft or necromancy. Beyond the powers of good and evil, a supreme power vests in the invisible. Whosoever sees it, can sense it, feel it! Difficulty lies in making yourself capable of seeing it, not through eyes but mind. Not even a single man has ever made it to the end of the process. The process that requires far more mental and physical strength and endurance than a mortal is blessed with.
There is a process of not sleeping during a 30-day journey to the Dominion. After that period, the seventh sense is evolved, which can be used to assimilate anything, from good to bad, from bad to worst. I am already at Day 5. So far, my body is holding up good. I have been taking in much caffeine lately. Sometimes I am hallucinating, but I am still with all my senses. I will continue updating this journal as long as I can.
I see things. It is like someone is occupying the corner of the room, invariably looking at me. I think I am getting a glimpse of my future. I am having a hard time waking up; caffeine is no longer working. There is a cutter in my hand, to inflict pain upon myself. So far I have made 30 cuts on my arms, legs, face and stomach. I hope this pain can keep me from dozing off.
I am in dreadfulness. Every time I look from the corner of my eye, I see shadows. It is now hard to interact with the material world. I can barely write. Words are flying, and the blinking of the cursor seems like a devil blinking his eye. I am struggling to stay awake. It is now even hard to fabricate sentences when there are so many thoughts traversing my mind. Every tiny detail is shifting in my room. Curtains seem washed out, bed feels like it is made of rubber and can collapse anytime, the color of my skin is not the same, the fan is making an unusual oscillation, spare pillows on the chair beside my bed are looking like a small child gazing at me with mixed emotions. No matter what, I have to hold on.
I have kept an iron block on the furnace, and it has been heating for the past hour. I got a slaughtering knife. If I need to remain awake, I have to do this.
I have chopped off my big toe and sealed it by applying pressure with the iron on the head of it to prevent the blood outflow. It is so afflictive, but that is what it takes to keep going.
Only six days are left. I have butchered all of my toes and fingers of my left hand, along with both of my ears as I write with my remaining right hand. I know this is a temporary discomfort, which will no longer persist afterwards. I broke the front glass of the microwave. It is set to the highest level at 900 Celsius, plugged in and heating up for the last five minutes. I can feel that I am close to my destination, so I have to do this. It is the only way to keep myself from sleeping. Come on…
I rested my left leg, circumventing the front of the microwave, on the grill. My foot is completely burnt now, and I am feeling the incommunicable pain. I couldn’t take it. I have to slash it. Next time, I may be late to write as I have to spare my energy to live until the last day.
Day 30 – 8:00 PM
That must be amazing; I am able to hold up for 30 days. Just 4 hours more. I am so terribly fatigued, but I should go on, I must go on. I have a 9 inch needle in my hand. This is the last thing I am doing. No more pain. I am going to inject it in my eyeball. Only in my left eyeball, as I need one to see the Dominion.
Day 31 – 12:10 AM
I have seen it. The Dominion. So ambrosial, so almighty. It was real, I thought I wouldn’t make it, but I did. Its face, or should I say faces, were black, white and red. All six eyes, two green, two white, and two red, were looking at me in love, in loathing, in acceptance and rejection at the same time. Beyond good and evil. It was hard to take in all the powers, the true self-realization. It was incredulously charismatic, godly demonic and horrifying. I could feel its omnipotence. Inexplicable! I don’t know why, but he has the same physical features as I do.
However, most importantly, I have known my real worth.
Day 31 – 02:00 AM
I am trying to burn this journal, but it doesn’t burn. I have tried to incinerate it, but it doesn’t reduce to ashes. I have made a mistake. No mortal is allowed to leave imprints of his experiences and the description of the invisible. Anybody who goes through with this process will be cursed. The Dominion won’t spare me. I have given enough sacrifices, and I can’t let my strenuous work go in vain. I have to burn it at any cost. AT ANY COST!
#Psychiatric Evaluation, by Mr. John Mathews
The patient suffers from an advanced state of schizophrenia. Due to his extreme depressed mental condition, he was unable to sleep for 30 days leading to unnatural and unusual insomnia and burnt down his whole house. Discovered in his room were toes and fingers of his legs and hands and a burnt foot along with an eyeball holding up a needle in its middle. There is a journal supposedly written by him, but there are no signs of ignition on it. Patient died with his eye stuck onto the space in fear. A further inquiry reveals that he was perfectly sane and a highly successful person 30 days ago until neighbors saw him talking to himself, after which he apparently went into depression and tried to commit suicide with the help of conflagration. He was last seen in his house today at 12:00 AM conversing in front of three mirrors attached together in a triangular shape so as to multiply the image in all three of them. There is no one to claim the body, and so the same is hereby scheduled to be cremated in the morning.
# Personal Diary, by Mr. John Mathews
Day 1 – It was not good to read the journal of a deceased man whose body is due to be cremated, but nonetheless, I have read it. It seems so strange and implausible. How can this be? If it is true, I can be rich in no time!
Day 5 – I have never failed so severely in my life. I was one of the ingenious men who could simplify any arduous task. I have lost my ability with time. All I now see is gloom.