[begin transmission]

That's the fourth time, that someone saw another person in me.

Ascribed characteristics and memories to my own being.

Precious things that are wasted on me, recklessly.

My own identity, in turn, robbed once more by a ghost that I've never met.

I hate lying, but no one ever seems to believes me.

Rightfully so; people are not willing to trust the person that isn't too trusting herself.

It's something that I'll never get used to, selfishly. And it has manifested here.

Sonya, I'm sorry, but I am not that immemorial friend of yours.

I'm me.

You don't know me.

Painfully, that will not change.

[end transmission]