The second day has arrived, and I find myself lightheaded. 23 Transorbital Lobotomies were performed yesterday, and I can't help but sense a subtle shift in my perception of reality. It's as though a gentle fog has settled over my thoughts, blurring the edges of my consciousness.
A curious sensation lingers, a hint of something inexplicable. I occasionally catch myself forgetting simple words or losing track of my thoughts, though it's nothing to be alarmed about. Such minor lapses are expected, given the nature of my experiment. Something that's somewhat alarming that does deserve noting is that I've been hearing these voices, but they're very quiet and rare, though this might change soon. The third set of lobotomies should be severely damaging though.
The procedures continue today, with each lobotomy performed meticulously, guided by an almost instinctual compulsion. There's a strange comfort in this routine, an odd satisfaction in the methodical removal and alteration of neural connections. My language skills, while not entirely compromised, seem to waver slightly, as if dancing on the edge of comprehension.
I remain resolute in my quest, despite these subtle changes that whisper in the recesses of my mind. It's all part of the journey, a journey that holds both intrigue and a touch of the inexplicable. Until day 3, wish me luck!