Hey. I don't really know how to preface this, I've not ever been much of a speaker. There's so much information and disclaimers that I'm not really sure where to start. I know where I'll start the autobiography proper, skipping my pre-isekai life and going straight to the first three days I remember in too much detail, but I'm not really sure how to start this, as a preface to something someone would read.

  I'm not much for remembering details. Even since I've come back from that fucking island, I've not been one to actually remember much about what I, personally, go through. Oh, I can memorize pretty much the entire wiki for games, sure, or imagine battles between monstrous beats and superhumans, but I couldn't tell you what I ate yesterday, who I talked to at Christmas a few days ago, or the names of 90% of the people I hung out with in high school, most of which was after the life I lead on the island. All that to say that this may be the most sparse autobiography out there.

  I'm going to avoid making up stuff to fill in gaps in my memory. There will be things you want to know more about, but so do I. I've had a much better brain than I did near the end of my time in the other world and I still can't remember how to get anywhere in town that's not Walmart, my sister's house, or visible on the way to one of those locations. I don't remember if I ever even knew the answers to the questions I now have about my time there.

  Despite the medium upon which this is being put, this is only arguably fiction. I definitely experienced what I'm about to talk about, but the singular other person from real life I met on the island didn't remember our time together. I miss my wife. I really wish she remembered our time together, but that's for later. I can cry later. Right now is for writing. Anyway, this happened while I slept, whether or not it waqs a dream I managed to cram into a single night. If you remember anything similar to what I'm writing, please contact me. Post in the comments, DM me, whatever.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  I've not told my family about this. I've told my best friend some of the details, a couple other friends even less, and the therapist I met after dropping out of college about it in broad strokes, but I've never told anyone as much of the details as I remember. I might show some of them this, later. Maybe not. We'll see.

  It sounds dumb, my brain works in odd ways, but what ultimately made me decide to write this was . I've had a long history with upbeat songs being the things to make me cry. was the first. , same artist, was a similar deal. But LIFE, ultimately, was the one to finish the job and make me write this.

  Royal Road necessitates being split into chapters. I'm just going to split the autobiography wherever I feel like and call it a "chapter."

  Also, if you noticed, I cussed above. I usually don't do that, outside my head. Even my other writings have avoided it. There are no good words I know of to express some of my feelings outside profanity, so expect that to a smaller degree than some other works on this site.

  I've also never actually read an autobiography, so I'm not sure how much information people typically include in them. I'm just going to write what I feel like writing, which is pretty much everything I actively remember from my time there. Most things only come up when something jogs the memory, though, so the content will be sparse, maybe four proper chapters, if that.

  I don't think I've said all I wanted to say. I should have made notes about what to say here, but I ultimately made the decision in the shower, hashing over this preface in my head in there. A terrible place for making notes.