1.) Call to Action
2.)Policy
3.)I will use a video
January 29th, 2009
Its been 3 months since and 4 days since my plane crashed on this island. I 've been keeping track of the days with a carving on stone. The etchings are the only hope that I have left. I've been surviving on a diet of plants and berries found in the untamed wild. I watch from afar as the search and rescue boats comb the sea, searching for my remains. I fear that I will trapped on this island forever.
Today I journeyed through the jungle and made contact with the savage natives. They speak a language that seems to have no bearing of structure. Made up of only sounds of clicks and clucks that of farm animals. Although the lead a very interesting tribal lifestyle found similar to a phantom tribe in South America. It seems that males are the sole provider and share their belongings throughout the group....and the women are treated as baby making machines. To provide an heir for each male. Today I tried to get a closer look at the savages by quietly moving forward like a tiger approaching its prey. As I moved through the brush I noticed a silhouette out of the corner of my eye. The camouflaged silhouette races towards me and a swift crack of a club knocks me out.
Several hours later I wake up. Things are hazy. I come to my wits and find that I'm in a pen made up of harden gray wood with a sloppy mud floor. A pen suitable for a pig. The children dance around me as if I were a trophy mounted on a hunters wall.
Its been 3 months since and 4 days since my plane crashed on this island. I 've been keeping track of the days with a carving on stone. The etchings are the only hope that I have left. I've been surviving on a diet of plants and berries found in the untamed wild. I watch from afar as the search and rescue boats comb the sea, searching for my remains. I fear that I will trapped on this island forever.
Today I journeyed through the jungle and made contact with the savage natives. They speak a language that seems to have no bearing of structure. Made up of only sounds of clicks and clucks that of farm animals. Although the lead a very interesting tribal lifestyle found similar to a phantom tribe in South America. It seems that males are the sole provider and share their belongings throughout the group....and the women are treated as baby making machines. To provide an heir for each male. Today I tried to get a closer look at the savages by quietly moving forward like a tiger approaching its prey. As I moved through the brush I noticed a silhouette out of the corner of my eye. The camouflaged silhouette races towards me and a swift crack of a club knocks me out.
Several hours later I wake up. Things are hazy. I come to my wits and find that I'm in a pen made up of harden gray wood with a sloppy mud floor. A pen suitable for a pig. The children dance around me as if I were a trophy mounted on a hunters wall.
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