Dear Diary,
Even when I convinced myself that I could handle it, that I could control the situation, the truth is that I cannot manage to do anything in this vacuum. I find myself inside the factory —in the control center— in front of all these screens that are off and telling myself that the best thing I should do is turn them on and learn to run this factory, but I can't move.
Knowing that this place was once the home of my worst monster fills me with a disgust you can't imagine. It is as if this feeling of revulsion has turned into a liquid and —drained into a syringe— has been injected into my veins. I really want to throw up so bad.
Too many memories come to my mind that my head is beginning to ache intensely. The faces of my mother and my reflection completely flood my troubled mi
