you lied, but I know, 'cause I've got cigarette eyes
There was no doubt that Sawyer found Tabula Rasa less comforting by far when compared to the previous island. Somehow, despite all of the inexplicable phenomena of the previous island, ashen smoke snaking through the sky and polar bears thundering through the bamboo, what Sawyer found more terrifying than anything else was reaching out and finding no friction. People on this new island didn't hate him. Couldn't bring it in themselves to care when he was a jackass. No, they all separated into little social pockets, keeping a few close because they couldn't stand to be in this place alone, but rarely weaving into the whole because the more people one knew, the more likely it was that they'd lose someone along the way. It was almost normal.
Sawyer wasn't sure how to cope with that.
He'd made calculated efforts, though. Actually settled down in a hut. Got himself a girlfriend, a role in an island play. But one thing he didn't have was a steady job, something that didn't involve leading people on or making others think he was someone he wasn't. So when Sawyer saw that there were a few openings available for the island radio, his enjoyment of Howard Stern was enough to at least poke his head inside.
"Is this where I'm supposed t'be if I wanna annoy people with my voice every Wednesday mornin'?" he asked, leaning against the doorway.
Sawyer wasn't sure how to cope with that.
He'd made calculated efforts, though. Actually settled down in a hut. Got himself a girlfriend, a role in an island play. But one thing he didn't have was a steady job, something that didn't involve leading people on or making others think he was someone he wasn't. So when Sawyer saw that there were a few openings available for the island radio, his enjoyment of Howard Stern was enough to at least poke his head inside.
"Is this where I'm supposed t'be if I wanna annoy people with my voice every Wednesday mornin'?" he asked, leaning against the doorway.