Day #76

I wake up at 7am every day. Light the gas stove. Melt some ice. Drink some of the water, use some to shave and wash.

Make some coffee, get dressed. Then sit and think, "What the hell am I going to do now?" for the next 18 hours until I fall asleep again.

That's not quite true. I hunt and fish every day. I'm quite a successful fisherman and now have several months of frozen fish stashed away in the cold-box in the igloo.

I'm less successful as a hunter, and have only caught one bumble-bee so far.

I also map my surroundings within the force-field. I've noticed changes. Sometimes the force-field is a few feet smaller, and on other ocassions I can walk right past where it was the previous day for several metres. At the moment it measures the same as when I first calculated it. Something tells me if I can find a pattern to its changes it may give me some sort of clue... but a clue to what? To tell you the truth I'm not even sure. All I know is I want out of this godforsaken place. But where would that take me? To a swift execution? Or another solitary trial, stuck in the middle of a desert perhaps?

And why the films? What can they possibly mean? Here comes another. I must be meticulous in recording every minute, every character, every scene. There may be a pattern, may be some vital clue. And so I grab some parchment and an old pencil, and get ready for several hours of intense notation:


What a pile of shit.