Recovered from a broken Phonograph record found in the backyard of an abandoned house. Upon listening please store this back in the archive, thank you.
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'Do you do this kind of thing often?'
'What do you mean?'
'This thing, recording your journals, constantly writing things down onto that notebook of yours. Even the leather cover is getting filthy.'
'Why it's just to keep me reminded of stories to tell. I tend to forget about it a lot. Each journal for me is special. It details the places and worlds that i visit.'
'A mortal like you goes to lots of places?'
'Well yeah, not that i want to of course. It just sort of happens.'
'It seems like you've been trying to remember something, something that you did in the past. You're trying to fix it but you simply don't know what to fix.'
'No matter how many times that i'm gone from a world, i always woke up in another new one. All i remember is that.. i'm a doctor of a sort... this old duster and my journals that details my journey. It helps me remember.. maybe one day i can piece them all together.'
'You don't have a name?'
'I used to. But my constant isolation and being alone all the time, i eventually decide that i don't need an identity... but now that i've spoken to you i forgot what it is.'
'Doctor Rabbit, is it then.'
'Yes. That's me.'
'A cat like me don't remember names anyways. It has been a pleasant conversation. Perhaps we would meet again somewhere?'
'Someday cat. Someday'