So here I am.

I'm not sure if I've ever found any trace of my own kind. I spend most of my time building. With each passing day, my projects get bigger and more elaborate. It's what keeps me from tripping over the edge. It preserves my sanity, along with these creatures I call my friends. Most of them keep me company. Others just try to wipe me out.

I can stare at the landscape for hours. What is this place? Why is it so empty? And sometimes I wonder whether there's more to it. A purpose, a reason for this place to exist. I wonder if there's more out there than just those cattle and hogs, wandering aimlessly. Like me.

I believe that I'm different. And one day, I aim to prove it. Yet I still have to wonder - do the animals look at the landscape and reflect like I do? What thoughts entertain the mind of a sheep or chicken? I don't know. Now that I think about it, there's a long list of things I don't know. Why am I here? Where am I from? What else is out there?

I don't know if I'll ever get back to where I came from, but this is my home now. I cut down these trees, and made them into lumber. I smelted this sand into glass. I climbed mountains to escape the wild beasts of this land. And I've dug into the very heart of the earth, and seen the jeweled treasure hidden there. This is where I stand. I carved my home out of clay and solid rock. And one day, someone will find it. They will see what I've left behind. And I promise you this: Whosoever comes to this land, they will know... I was here.

There's only one fear that plagues me. What if no one ever comes? This is as close to rescue as I'm going to get. I've got a house, and a warm bed. In the summer, I've got sandy beaches. In the winter, I've got hot fires and a bowl of mushroom soup. And I've got a spare bedroom ready, just in case somebody needs it. Until then, I will hold the line. And I will wait.

I can't tell you what tomorrow will bring. I can only tell you that I'll be here for it.