Just not the words. Just not the memories. Just not the physical proof of their existence. Forgotten by his mind, so too were they forgotten by the world itself, as if they had never happened in the first place. It seemed to follow a pattern, however. The earliest memories disappeared first, evidenced by a few non sequiturs here and there. He, in a fit of whimsy, had recounted how one event of his early past echoed another, later point. To his horror, he saw the page completely blank but for his later additions. The written paragraphs spread across the pages, and the ink the words had been written on seemed to fade, as if written ages ago at the beginning, and slowly faded to nothing as it reached its end. An island of information in a sea of oblivion.