Three weeks have passed since I first arrived here. The days pass by swiftly now with my work in the kitchen, and though I was unused to the constant hustle and bustle at the start, I am pleased that I am able to occupy myself in such a productive manner. Cooking itself is a highly rewarding hobby. But I am afraid to say, none of my successes
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... I suspect the island is hiding true death for its own devices.
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Not that I truly believe this hides anything, but. I have a thought. Perhaps we are not truly here at all?
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Stretched to its extremes.... We can prove nothing. I would rather choose to believe my senses.
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. . . It would explain quite a bit, though. Some sort of collective dream, mayhaps.
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A collective dream which we will be experiencing for a long time. It's worth treating it as reality.
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Yes. It was merely an idle thought . . .
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