I need to find a way out of the hole I fell in. it wasn't a particularly big hole, but as I tried to climb out. the walls began to fall. Now I sit... laying next to me are the crumblings of past attempts, ideas which not only failed, but further ensured my station in obscurity. Magic doesn't exist in this world, no cute little green faerie is going to come and sprinkle happiness and fortune on me, no ancient and mystical cantation is going to cause the earth to rise. No, only the wild beasts of things unknown, with their howlings of what ifs and their growls of regret, they come from all over to see the fool in his hole.
And so it is, I sit, waiting for the dying man in my head to tell me what to do. Pleading with the dirt I've dug to protect me. Finding a root, I began to scribe the sides of my newly soiled sanctuary. Praying never to forget.....
