I noticed a few weeks ago that the first two of my so-called autobiographies are missing from my Residua on the World Wide Web. As the first autobiography available is from 1979, they must have been written earlier that year or an earlier year, but it is not very likely that the first one among them was written prior to 1978, apparently one of the toughest years in my life (“Autobiography III,” October 1, 1979). Judging by all the autobiographies available, the first two must have been important to me when they were written. So, why are they missing? Were they too embarrassing to share with others? Eager to retrieve them, like I retrieved a whole bunch of missing testamenta last year, I ferreted through many of my old papers that can still be found in my study. Although I went through quite a few dusty folders and boxes, I found no trace of the missing autobiographies. Most of the papers I did come across made me cringe, though. It appears that the past is not one of my favorite places. Far from it. Besides, many of the names I have come across in these papers are utterly foreign to me so many years later. Who are these people? What was it that had brought us together in the first place? The discomfort I feel is occasionally so strong that it is not very likely that I will look for the two autobiographies ever again. If I ever come across them, it will be utterly by chance, for this is how I discovered the missing testamenta (“Testamenta I-XI,” April 8, 2013). At this stage of my life, chance is entirely to my liking, too.