Here is your early leader.
Panther pislA wrote:
Day 2 on this desolate ocean.
I thought for a second I saw a glint of light over yonder on the horizon early in what I think was this morning. . .
but, alas, it was just a mirage.
I continue to drink my own urine as my sole nutritional supplement, and I may have actually acquired a taste for it.
I like to pretend that it is a different-colored flavor of Gatorade each time I take a sip, and, in my current state of lonely, starvation-inspired delirium, I find exactly no difference from my recollection of the taste of the real thing. It is quite a phenomenon.
The occasional whale passes by, and, each time, I could swear that the fellow mammal is offering to communicate with me, however, I do not yet know a method to share thoughts.
From time to time, a cloud blankets the searing sun, offering a respite from the constant burn of salt-encrusted open exposure.
The only comfort is that my skin has dehydrated and tanned to a point where it is starting to resemble a dry leather shroud - in said state it actually offers protection and relief now that the pain sensors in my skin have been cooked and killed off by lack of blood supply.
I'm going to attempt to take a nap and dream about the days of polite messageboard harmony.
. . . The days before the "event". The days when water, food, and company were plentiful, and came without a price, without a sacrifice.
I don't harbor ill will toward anyone who brought an end to this society, as all societys are bound to the same fate, however, I have a right to be wistful, and I am.
