Oh, hello. It's been a while, hasn't it? I'm just checking in on you again, wanting to see how you're doing. You're still doing well, given the circumstances. I can tell you're using your ability to read to your benefit as well. That's why I'm here. You don't remember what happened, I'm afraid. You didn't seem to remember last time, or the time before that, or even the time before. The deaths, fires, robberies, none of it. The blow that struck you in the head doesn't ring any bells either, does it? Either way, that doesn't seem to matter to you. You're living your life. You have friends that care for you, even if you don't think they do. You have food, water, shelter, and even entertainment. You have life. You have hobbies. At times, you even have hope. But most of all, you refuse to listen. Listen to the messages I give you year after year. I've interfered the best I could. Shaking the world around you, messing with your little fantasy never elicited a response from you. News reports of people waking from comas didn't do it. Urban legends didn't do it. Not even the fact that you wake up from a pleasant dream would do it. But, you learned to read in this state. If written text doesn't get you to wake up, I don't know what will. I'm sending my message through a website that you frequent. Your world is nothing more than a fantasy. The real you is on the verge of death. Only waking up will keep us alive.
Come back to reality.