previous journal entry

Why is it I don't have anything written here about dreams? I'm pretty sure what I just dreamed is not normal. I'd be nice to have a reference to go by.

No memories. No idea of who I am or who I'm surrounded by. Nothing except what's in this journal. Thank goodness for that. I feel akward writing here, like I'm writing in someone else's journal. Yet, I feel compelled to write, since this is apparently where I keep my life history. I only hope that somewhere in here is the key to figuring out what happened to me and my mind.

Worth noting is the fact that the big iron guy was the one who chased me down when I panicked and ran. He must have followed me for most of a day. When I passed out, he carried me back. Guess he wouldn't have done that if he didn't consider me a friend. I sure wouldn't have carried someone that far if I didn't like them... would've I?