Half a Dozen of One and Five of the Other

[Editor's Note: records of the intervening hours are being decrypted with great difficulty due to being nearly illegibleAlmost completely consumed in a small-scale booze fire at my apartment.. I apologize for the inconvenience.]

This was fun at first.

Now it's just impossible.

If I survive this next hour, it is a miracle of some kind. But I'm in this to the bitter end at this point - it's like I'm in quicksand, sinking lower and with no chance of getting out.

I'm nearly halfway done anyway, and the second half's no trickier on my part than the first. Whatever I've done so far, I'm doing it right.

"The Eleventh Hour". Superman. Ha-ha.

But why are they showing anti-Japanese WW2 propaganda on TV? And why does he look like Satan?
The Eleventh Hour. Last chance to get out? No, I think it's already far too late. 1/2048.

[...]This space reserved for the sound of a gun firing.

I'm still alive.

How?Narrative Imperative, the most powerful force in physics.

At this point my continued existence is less likely than hanging myself or being killed with a pointy object. There are lots of pointy objects around; I'm surprised none of them have done me in yet. I shall have to be more carefulHenceforth, I resolve to trust only perfectly round doorknobs. in the future.