To keep some anonymity between the two of us, I'd like to briefly state that my name is Notesy. This personal blog serves as an archive to preserve the lost findings of artefacts, supersitions, and haunted possesions. One year ago, I had retrieved an rather disorginazed pile of documents placed in a shoebox in the deep depths of my attic; presumably by the last tenant before I moved in, Warren Saunders. From the little information I have on him, he was an architect with quite a keen interest in screen-writing—and wrote many, many film concepts which have unfortunately have been lost to time, and have never seen the light since.

For some strange, and rather a uninvoked reason, ever since Warren Saunders has left this apartment, I have been unable to retrace any information on him; no identity, no location, nothing. It is like he has vanished into thin air; plummented into the shallowest of darkness. Only this stack of scrapped files he'd left behind; an concept of a old sitcom—cartoonish children's show—seemingly untouched and untarished for eleven decades; haunted by its past, cursed by its present, and lost by its future. There is now... a long series of echoes that follow, as I now discover the eternal solace that creeps towards me in numbers.

This is not for you.