Alone. Day 53.

“All great and precious things are lonely.” —John Steinbeck

How long have I been asleep? Have I been asleep? I will keep this journal as long as I have power. I am alone. Desperately alone.

I remember waking up. Or do I? I question all of it now. How much of this has been the dream and how much of it the fever? There is no one here.

The halls are eerily silent. Normally they are filled with the slow shuffling footsteps of the slowest kids in Florida, drifting towards classes and talking randomly about nothing they will remember in ten years. Now there is only dead space and I begin to wonder have I always been alone? Has my mind manufactured the images that I believe are memories?

Empty.

Empty.

Can I exist in a vacuum? Is a teacher still a teacher if there is no one to teach? I have the idea there was someone here once. I've recreated that memory as best as I can. For almost two hours we discussed the Constitution and the progressives and yet I feel as if I am speaking to no one. It is as if I am the only one here. Actually besides the silence this is generally what I remember always feeling in this room.

I have opened my emergency food supply. I think I will eat all of these at once. I have no idea how long I will be here alone but I have no desire to prolong my loneliness. I will eat these and quietly wait here. Waiting for something. For someone? I don't know. I can't remember the last time I've spoken to a real person. Am I a real person? Have I ever been?