I feel strange this morning. More strange than normal I mean.

I'm floating in a featureless void, and I wonder what I'm doing here. I could call out, but I know that there's nobody to hear me. I wouldn't know what to say anyway.

This isn't right. I don't belong here, in this empty place. This is not where I'm supposed to be. I'm not afraid, and I'm not sad, but I'm not entirely comfortable either. Uneasy would be the word I'm looking for.

This morning I proposed, in an email to a friend, that perhaps I'd died in my sleep during the night. Well she got the email so I guess that theory is no good.

Something happened though. I didn't just wander out here. In fact, I don't really feel as if I went anywhere. It's more like the world disappeared around me. It was there when I went to sleep last night, but now it's gone.

Last Spring I wrote this:

There is...Nothing.

Blackness and silence surround him, seep into him.

He wonders how long it has been. A minute? A day? A million years?

Even the familiar thump thump of his heart has stopped. He ponders this, and reaches his hand to his chest, but he finds that he has no hand, and that he has no chest.

He simply exists, seeing, hearing, feeling nothing.

He waits for something to happen, and wonders if he is dead.

Back then, though, something had happened. There was a reason that I found myself in that void. Back then, I was pushed. This time, this time I don't know what happened.

I shouldn't be here.