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Island | Nov 04 2005

I’ve been sitting here for several hours, doing nothing. By “nothing” I mean that I ate a pear, went downstairs to check the mail (there was none), and ignored three emails and a phone call. Mostly I thought. The most interesting thought I had was about a desert island. I tried to imagine what I would do if stuck alone on a desert island with no media of any kind—no computer, phone, television, books, music, magazines… nothing; not even pencil and paper. I decided I would masturbate a lot, or a lot more than I do, but otherwise what? Wander around the island. Catch fish. Repair my hunt. I decided I would run each day and do some regular stretches and calisthenics, because these things help clear my head. I even thought about which exercises I would do.

I figured I would sleep a lot, but really, how much can you sleep? Ten hours a day? Twelve? Twelve hours a day still leaves another twelve hours to try to fill with wandering around, masturbating, catching fish, exercising, and repairing one’s hunt. It doesn’t add up.

I decided I wouldn’t kill myself, although I’d probably think about it a good deal.

Otherwise I believe the experience would probably be like certain days when I sit around doing nothing of consequence and feeling mildly lousy all day, until I finally go to sleep and wake up and it’s a new day, except in this case the new day would never come.