Cast away alone with the slightest of slight hopes; yet somehow I am incorruptibly alive. This morning I prayed, took a walk and then returned. I found nothing decent out there at all.
Very much dejected that I found no sustenance and the bird that I kept alive had died. The water's all gone, and so has all my hope… finding graves and hallucinations everywhere.
I've burnt all the wood so I'm forced to eat raw flesh, I can't live long and I hope that God is a merciful one.
All as before drank some tea brewed in some piss - I'm in a declining condition. I'm so decayed; I'm a perfect skeleton. I can't write the particulars, my hand shakes so.
My heart's so full that I can't communicate. Yet somehow I am unbearably alive.
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