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Stories, and such.
The ramblings from my mind that I deem too important to forget.
Day 6.
Day 6...turns out that my legs don't grow back...I probably should have checked to see if they did before I cut the other leg off...in fact I probably should've found that out before I cut the first leg off...but...the past is the past...and the present is now...the cube has started conversing with me...interrogating me, if you will...asking me all sorts of questions, like: what kind of wood do you like? How tall are you? What cemetary would you like to be buried in? Am I in your will? What would be your prefered death? Ya' know the usual questions people ask me...but...I can't shake this feeling that...I know this is gonna sound crazy...the cube wants me dead...heh...but...that's just a hunch...heh heh...

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