Black Heart

I don’t know why I am writing, but I have to tell someone and I cannot tell anyone.

I found this notebook at the same time as $20.000 appeared in my bank account. Literally, I’ve picked this notebook from the pavement where I found it and my phoned chimed, I’ve received a payment. It cannot be a coincidence, it cannot, but I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do with this damn black notebook. I can only write.

It’s the size of my heart. A black heart. Did it fall from the sky? It must have, but it cannot be. I know some stories about notebooks. There are conditions, rules. They fall from the sky. Some god left them. For humans. To test them. I am being tested. But there are conditions, rules and I cannot find them. All the pages in the notebook are blank, except what I’ve written. But I need that money. I need to use it.

I’ve bought an electric bicycle. It’s a test. I’ve always wanted one. It was my test. I wanted to know what would happen to the money. Nothing so far, nothing has happened. The bike feels good. You press a button and you almost feel like you are not cycling. It’s like flying with your own strength. I feel like using the money. I want to use it.

I love the binding. I love black in general, but it’s the feeling you have when you hold it. And then you open it and there’s nothing, pure nothingness, except my words. My words are taking away the emptiness. Or are they adding to it?

I have paid for a last minute holiday. Always wanted to go to Greece. It’s such an ancient place. It’s like a lot of things started there. And it’s hot. I am tired of cold and rain. I feel wet inside. Nothing has happened. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe that money was someone’s mistake and there is no god, someone dropped an empty black notebook the size of my heart and didn’t notice and when they noticed they realized that there was no point going back for an empty black notebook, because they hadn’t written any rules yet.

Wait, my notebook, that’s why you are empty, because god forgot to write the rules down.

What if it is a test and my airplane falls and crashes?

My flight is tomorrow and I can’t. What if I die? What if I cause the death of dozens of people? It cannot happen. I cannot die. I don’t want to die on a plane. I don’t want to die, you damn notebook. What should I do? Tell me. Write back to me. Sometimes I wish I had someone to talk to.

It’s late, I should go to bed. I should prepare my luggage and then go to sleep. But I can’t. I shouldn’t fly. I cannot risk it. After all, in a way, I haven’t paid for that holiday, the money fell from the sky, I won’t lose any money, I don’t need to fly. Why risk it? I have nothing to lose.

I know what to do. I am going to write the rules. If god forgot I’ll write them for god. I’ll make my own rules.

RULE 1: NOTHING WILL HAPPEN TO THE PERSON WRITING IN THIS NOTEBOOK WHEN THIS PERSON SPENDS THE MONEY RECEIVED WITH THE NOTEBOOK.

I missed my flight. I didn’t hear four alarms, you damn notebook kept me up for so long. But hey, it’s okay, you didn’t kill me either. I spent money and nothing happened to me, so it works. Of course, I might have been alright flying too, but what matters is that nothing happened to me. But maybe I need to consider more positive outcomes for me.

RULE 2: NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW WHO THE PERSON WHO WROTE IN THIS NOTEBOOK IS.

One day I will be someone else’s god. I won’t be as negligent as them. I will take care of my future self. I mean, of the person who will pick up the notebook after me. Why do I suddenly want to pass this to someone? Maybe it’s the only way I have to leave a legacy behind me. I am not alone if there is someone who reads me and follows my rules in the future. I don’t want to stop writing because I don’t want to stop writing for the future.

RULE 3: THE MONEY SPENT WILL MULTIPLY

I have spent all of the money already. But that TV is massive and those games and those things for the kitchen. The truth is I don’t even know why I bought most of that stuff. I don’t even know what I bought. I just feel like I have to spend that money because it was a gift from god. I didn’t earn it. I have money so I have to spend it. But I need to start thinking about making more money. What happens when I finish it? I am not ready to pass the notebook, my little black heart, over. But why not? What has this little notebook given me?

The damn rule doesn’t work. Betting, lottery, nothing worked. Maybe it’s too general. How do you make rules to make money? I am not good at making rules.

Maybe I am no god, after all.

At work I have barely spoken with anyone again today. Yes, I say hi, good morning, how are you. But that’s about it. Sometimes I really crave people. I mean, my little black heart of a notebook, you know I do like to spend time on my own, but sometimes I would like a friend or a girl. But then I think I want my own space too. But god I feel alone sometimes. I cannot remember the last time I was held.

I have just read the last paragraph again. Wow, so pathetic. I have received $20000 and all I can do is writing pathetic stuff. Is it true that money does not give happiness? What have I made of the money anyway? I cannot even remember where I spent most of it and it’s mostly gone. I can’t believe I even wrote RULE 3. What was the point? I was alone and with a decent job before I got the money. I am alone and miserable and with a decent job after I got the money. It’s made no difference in my life. It was just something to spend. I was already comfortable before.

This notebook as big as my heart has been more useful than the money. I have never written a diary before in my life and this has turned into a diary. I’ve decided that when I spend the last dollar I’ll take the diary with me and drop it somewhere. I only want someone to read it. I don’t care if they throw it away afterwards, I really don’t mind.

Who am I kidding? I hope someone reads it and thinks of me. Thinks of whoever has written it. Just want someone to think about me.

Will anyone read my notebook?

I am so damn lonely sometimes.

There’s only me writing in my little black heart.