|The author entertains himself by|
mocking the skeleton for 15 minutes.
Oh. He has fallen into the well, in a misguided attempt at self-preservation. Surely, there is enough shade in there to guard him from the sun, and should he catch fire, he is perpetually bathed in cool water. But now he can't climb out nor operate his bow to pluck out the eyes of casual observers.
I could draw an analogy between us, but honestly, it would take too much out of me.
Those dreams haunt me yet. I haven't slept for two days since waking from them abruptly. I thought they would melt away in the morning sun like so much hoarfrost on the lawn, but in retelling them in this journal I cemented them in my imagination and now they return to mind during the dull moments. Which is why I have endeavored to keep active.
|Three baby trees, to start with.|
|Minutes later, three mighty oaks.|
Having cached an abundance of skeleton bones, I ground several of these into meal and matured the grove rapidly. Once again I chopped a few trees down for a good supply of wood, as well as to double the grove's territory. This accomplished, I returned to the cabin and converted the raw wood to planks, and these to staves, with the ultimate goal of preparing several dozen meters' worth of ladders.
|With reasonable caution, the author drills into the earth.|
I should state here that I have decided my primary goal is to return to Massachusetts, to the Earth I know. But as there is no obvious or deducible means by which to attain this goal, I have formed an alternative plan after some consideration. Briefly: if I may only exit this intellectually antagonistic world through fantastic means (and again, I haven't the slightest indication what these may look like), it stands to reason I will require an exceptional hoard of materials to work toward it. These resources will fall into two camps: those with which I am already familiar—foodstuffs, iron and gold, diamonds and emeralds, redstone, coal, &c.—and those I have not encountered. The way to attain these latter is simply to continue wandering, to see what this world has to offer.
|New mine shaft, right next to a burbling pool of lava.|
This is the best I can do for now. I don't know how or why I am here, nor do I know how I can leave. But there is nothing else to do with my time but assemble material components and search the continent for clues, if not answers. It's either that, or fish and sleep into the interminable future.