Daylight. It is clear. The barometer—760 mm. It is possible that I, D-503, really wrote these—pages? Is it possible that I ever felt, or imagined I felt all this?
The handwriting is mine. And what follows is all in my handwriting. Fortunately only the handwriting. No more delirium, no absurd metaphors, no feelings—only facts. For I am healthy, perfectly, absolutely healthy.… I am smiling; I cannot help smiling; a splinter has been taken out of my head and I feel so light, so empty! To be more exact, not empty, but there is nothing foreign, nothing that prevents me from smiling. (Smiling is the normal state for a normal human being).
The facts are as follows: That evening my neighbor who discovered the finiteness of the universe, and I, and all others who did not have a certificate s
