Day 1
The ship has sunk. I have no idea if there are any other survivors besides myself. I passed out while clinging to that buoy; I awoke to find myself washed ashore on this desert isle. My available resources are 8 litres of fresh water, twelve turkey sandwiches, five bottles of suntan lotion, and, of course, my beloved desert island discs. They are:
New Kids on the Block, Hangin' Tough
Billy Joel, The Stranger
Michael Bolton, Time, Love and Tenderness
Vanilla Ice, To the Extreme
These are not my ACTUAL desert island discs, mind you; I brought them along originally as goofy joke music for my job as cruise ship DJ. However, I can only hope they offer me some solace and company as I wait for rescue, allowing me to retain my sanity, faith and peace of mind. It's just a good thing I brought along that Discman for pointless kitsch value!
Day 2
Today I smashed Billy Joel's The Stranger. I just... I couldn't.
Day 3
I spent much of the morning wandering the shoreline and marveling at the numerous varieties of sea and plant life visible therein. It is truly humbling, the breathtaking cornucopia of sensual marvels of which the universe is capable. So much life on the most micro level imaginable! Stunning. This marvellous mood was soon punctured, however, by ten minutes of listening to Vanilla Ice's To the Extreme. Do you remember that there are faux-reggae songs on that thing? There are indeed faux-reggae songs on that thing. The dogs of madness are now licking at my boot heels; darkness approaches, of both the landscape and the soul.
Day 8
I captured, cooked and ate a fish today! Starvation has been staved off! I'd be happier about this, of course, if I hadn't tried listening to the New Kids on the Block album. I know it's not for me, but still. I thought this would remind me of human beings, but it's like snorting audio plastic. Boy, I really stuck it to that group that doesn't exist any more, says the head of the fish I just ate that is staring at me with a vengeful pity. Madness soon, maybe tomorrow.
Day 15
Death approaches on the wings of death's minions. This shall be my last communique, I suspect. All around me, doom circles like a famished vulture. And so, with the last of my strength, let me mark the end of my earthly consciousness by proclaiming: Michael Bolton is slightly underrated.
(Thus marked the end of Darren Springer's island journal. His life story will be turned into a film by director Danny Boyle. He is set to be played by Michael Bolton.)
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