It's the end of the fourth day without sleep. I'm in some bizarre loop, stuck doing one thing over and over—cutting through those delicate frontal lobes, severing connections. I've lost control; the voices are taking over, pushing me further and further towards the breaking point. My hands have become tools of destruction, mere extensions of the will of others. I'm losing touch with reality, and I know it's only a matter of time before I give in to the urge to cut my own brain apart to see if there's anything of myself left.
I can no longer tell the difference between day and night. Sleep has become a distant memory, while the constant voices in my head grow louder by the minute. I desperately need a break, but I don't dare stop. If I don't keep pushing, if I don't keep cutting, who knows what will become of me? The thoughts of a dissection of my own brain are constant now, and I fear I may not be able to resist them much longer. I am a prisoner, both of my own mind and of the actions I've taken against others.
As the day stretches on, I find myself thinking back to the person I once was. I can't help but wonder if there's anything of that person left. Have I destroyed myself, or am I still in there somewhere? All I know for sure is that I'm running out of time. If I don't find a way out, I'll be lost forever, my brain reduced to nothing more than a jumbled, disorganized mess. Time is running out.
I missed the third day's entry. I recognize my mistake, but I'm surprised I even remembered to write the fourth day's log. I don't know if I can continue doing all this. I'm starting to see terrifying things. There must have been a miscalculation or something I missed during the preparation for this experiment, because something has gone horribly wrong.
I know none of you guys want to read this, but if it's the only proof of my experiment, then it's worth archiving, even if no one's going to read it here on spacehey. I'm starting to think my body is incredibly durable, as I'm still capable of writing logical and coherent sentences, and I still have the brain power to write all of this. I hope I still remember how to type if I'm still a functioning human being in a few days. Wish me luck; I'll try to sleep again tonight.