I held a few pieces of change in my hand wondering what I might be doing if I was in Neverleave. I noted that if I was there and I was doing nothing, I would be thinking of what I would be doing if I was living somewhere - anywhere - other than there. The things I did that were fun and the people I loved that were cool and did love me, I seemed to take for granite. But what was it that I took for granite exactly? Was it the fact that I thought no matter where I went I could make friends really easy and quickly surround myself with the same kind of creative people who were full of love and peace and understanding? Or was it that I took having friends like that all around you for granite? Sure, the area has a lot to do with how happy you can be, I suppose, but what good is even a tropical paradise if you don't have anyone around you that you can relate to and share infinite wisdom?

And this place I was in now was far from being a tropical paradise. Especially when I woke up next. I mean, it was a couple of months later, but when I woke up that next time in which I had to make entries in the log, it seemed like the next day. I think back to the day I was standing on the ledge looking over the town and feeling the rock's emotions for the first time, and that seemed like yesterday. I think back to the day I looked over my shoulder as the lights of Neverleave faded off into the night skyline, and that seemed like another life ago. I had the choice to consume this new place before it consumed me, and now that I wake up and it's the middle of winter, I have to come to the admission that it did consume me and that I am embedded into this place with powerful magnetism. Sure, I could probably catch a ticket back to Neverleave at any given moment . . . but that would be against the overlord's wishes.

The snow reminded me of one of the original and most profound desires of mine: to escape Neverleave just because of the fact that I loved the sun and hot weather, beaches and the ocean. None of this was here as none of it was in Neverleave. So what brought me here? A place where even the artists leave me out of their circles?Is it possible for me to find a scene in this place or is it part of my sentence to have no social interaction worth mentioning? I pondered on that a little deeper and came up with startling revelations. Perhaps because of all of the pleasures and love and good fortune I experienced in Neverleave, I must now pay for that with the bland tasting beer, the lonely tasting whisky, the dry harsh smoke, the loneliness, and the window that I am forced more and more to look through as I watch others enjoy the pleasures of the life I left behind. It wouldn't really be an exile if that wasn't the case, now would it? Exile is a form of punishment, not a way to get away from Neverleave and actually stumble upon somewhere better or full of people and interactions that are even slightly satisfying. And the suffering deepens because I can only faintly hear the voices of those I left behind as they wonder why I am still gone and they go on living and dying and doing the same old shit that we used to make fun of ourselves for doing, but it was cool.