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The Several Seas

Join me in my tales over vast oceans and perilous islands.

September 02, 1798

The Girl

As we sail over the pacific waves, I cannot hesitate to think about her. She is on my mind through all parts of the day. Never are my thoughts idle; When there is nothing else to think about, she is there. As I close my eyes, I see her staring back at me. Deep, rich, immense beauty can be discovered in her soft brown irises. I fall a slave to their power, trapped in her gaze, obedient to her subtlest wish. If only I could caress her soft cheek, grasp her hand, and meet her silken lips with mine, I would surrender the world and more. Not a night has passed where she was not the last thought before embarking in my dreams, and not a morning has come where she was not first to grace my mind. I wish for her to be by my side as I open my eyes each morning. To lay side by side, her leg on top of mine, would eliminate my need for sleep. Why should I dare to sleep when the girl of my dreams is right with me?

September 14, 1798

The Sea

I have been abandoned by my crew. It was early Tuesday morning when they barged into my cabin with lanterns and swords drawn. I was agreeable, but indignant, as I was unaware of what caused them distress. They picked me up with their gangly hands and dragged me out with little care for my body. As we exited the door, my arm nearly broke as it was lodged against the frame. Without word or explanation, they threw me over the side, tossing me my pants, this very journal, and very mockingly my sandals. Luckily, the tide was submissive. I was not a particularly keen swimmer because of an accident in my past. My only choice to save what was left of the journal was to quickly put on my pants and stuff the journal into them. They sailed away and away, as the lantern in my cabin grew more distant and less luminous. I decided not to swim after them or in any direction, as it would cause me fatigue and would serve to better me none. I drifted on the current of the sea for three days, appreciative of my lucky foresight to splurge our supplies and have a large meal for my mates. My stomach was very full for the first day and my hunger had not yet become severe by the third. Finally, I caught a glimpse of an object on the horizon. Had I been looking that way, I would had seen it over an hour before. I began to propel myself in that direction slowly, but surely. I soon arrived at a tropical island..

October 10, 1798

The Island

It is on this island that I spend many, if not all of my days for the duration of my stay here. There is wide beach with powdery white sand juxtaposed to a thick congregation of palm trees. Through the palm trees is a bit of an open field, with wild tropical shrubbery growing amok. Past that point is yet another growth of palm trees, only there, they are accompanied with thick, tall vegetation and masses of vines, creating a dark shadow on the soil beneath. It is here that the insects dwell, and thus I seldom venture far into this forest. From my summation, this tropical forest has a diameter of about two miles. Circumventing the dark forest to the East, I found a very rocky area. There are large stones piled atop one another, and gravel wherever the foot could settle. Without my sandals, this is a treacherous walk. By the shore, the pebbles are worn by erosion and are more gentle to my soles. It is this stony shore that quells my boredom with hours of skipping rocks during my estranged stay on the island. Yet today, I realized a colony of groundhog-like creatures inhabit the island..

October 18, 1798

The Forest

As I was passing the time down at my favorite rocky beach, I noticed a group of these groundhogs running about nearly 50 yards away. What they were doing exactly is still not quite clear to me. However, to test their reaction, I tossed a small pebble at them in mortar fashion. Startled, they scurried quickly into the dark forest. Something seemed a bit more peculiar than usual, so I decided it was high time to venture into Dark Palm Forest. As I entered the thicket of palms, I became more and more nauseous from sight of the thousands of insects: masticating, defecating, fornicating. With every step, I felt a gooey crunch beneath my feet; I would have much rather been walking barefoot on the gravel fields. Suddenly, I began to see light ahead of me. There was a natural clearing just ahead that seemed void of insects. I rushed out to the center and took off my clothes which were covered, down to the last stitch, with bugs of all sorts. After shaking off what I could of the mealy creatures, which flew directly back into the forest, I proceeded to re-dress myself. Now that I am a bit more calmed, I am wondering exactly why no insects at all ingress the clearing. I theorize it may have something to do with a grated opening on which I now sit..

October 18, 1798

The Ladder

I peered through the seedy grate and saw the ominous ladder handles along the side leading into a pit of black. I could tell that there was nothing in front of my eyes for quite some distance. Suddenly, I noticed an orange light the size of a pinhead in the midst of the blackness. It was time to investigate. Opening the grate on its rusty hinge, I bid farewell to my insect friends and gingerly began down the rungs. I wasn't a master at ladder-climbing: one-armed men usually don't partake in the activity. Yet here I was, descending upon the Ladder of all Ladders, into a pit of intrigue and incomprehensible miscellany. Then it happened: the unimaginable, the terrible, the horrific; My entire body began to itch, covered in bug bites. Here I was, a one armed man, clinging for life onto a ladder rung, with an incinerating tingling over the entirety of my person. I began to descend lower and lower, hoping I would reach ground. Unfortunately, the rungs were so thick I couldn't fit my mouth around them. I contemplated simply letting go so that I could ease the itching on the fall down for one moment of nirvana before my untimely death. I felt like I was out of my body as I rushed down the ladder with utmost speed. The tiny orange speck had now, about an hour later, become about the size of a golfball. It was an opening, and it was close, close; ever so close until the end of my agony. Relief was so near, yet my anxiety of what awaited me in this lair uneased my frantic heart. Finally, upon reaching the ground, I scratched at my skin which seemed to quench my burning itch for a while. I gazed around and took in the sights. It is very warm down in this pit, and glowing of orange from the radiant lava that flows like a river through here. Now that I've written, I shall explore the area in more depth..

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