The gate is locked. Find the key.
These notes were not meant to be part of the public collection. If you are reading this, you found the passcode. That means you were paying attention to the small things. That is, appropriately, what this section requires.
The corridor started appearing in my dreams before I built it. This is the thing I could not include in any academic paper, the thing I could not tell M. without her using it as evidence that I should stop. So I am writing it here, in the restricted section, for whoever finds the key.
I have also begun noticing corridors in places that should not contain corridors. In my apartment. In spaces I know by heart. There is, sometimes, a corridor between my bedroom and the bathroom that is longer than it was the last time I walked it. I have measured it. It is different each time.
I am not frightened. I want to record that clearly, for my own reference: I am not frightened. I am interested. There is a corridor in the fabric of this place and I am the person most qualified to walk it, and I intend to do so with full attention and without apology.
Further personal notes removed by the author prior to uploading. — archival note