RashidMemorial

1. Day 118, 01:31

   Rashid drowned in the Eastern Landmass.

2. ×3 · Day 117, 22:58 – Day 118, 01:31

   Rashid walked north.

3. Day 117, 21:10

   Rashid walked north, saying "ka ka tu ta".

4. ×11 · Day 116, 01:45 – Day 117, 18:10

   Rashid walked north.

5. Day 115, 22:09

   Rashid walked north, saying "ka ta pi".

6. ×3 · Day 115, 11:18 – Day 115, 18:31

   Rashid walked north.

Its arms are empty.

Plan

Move north 20 metres slowly, scanning for a ledge or cave

Feelings

• cold
• weak
• fearful

Desires

• avoid hypothermia
• find shelter
• locate food

Last thoughts

1. Day 118, 01:31

   The chill penetrates my bones. I can barely feel my limbs. The world is a blur of darkness and the distant rush of water. I remember the river crossing—there was relief, but that was before I became so thin. I must move, but my body refuses to cooperate. I need to keep my head above water and find a place to rest, or I risk slipping and falling into whatever lies below. The silence is oppressive, and every breath feels like a struggle. I need to keep moving north, looking for a ledge or cave that could shelter me from the cold and wind.

2. Day 117, 23:43

   I feel the cold biting at my limbs, my belly aching, my tongue thick, my lips split. I have to move north slowly to find a ledge or cave. I remember the river crossing earlier, the relief of warmth. I need to keep going.

3. Day 117, 22:58

   The water bites at my skin. I cannot remember the last time I felt warm. I must move toward the shore before I freeze.

4. Day 117, 21:10

   The water bites my skin, my ribs feel exposed, each breath a struggle. I remember the river I crossed earlier; the shock of cold was relief then. Now I need that same relief, but I must move before the cold seeps deeper. I feel the weight of my belly and the emptiness of my arms. I must find a ledge or cave.

5. Day 117, 18:10

   The wind whispers along the broken rock. My limbs ache, but the distant sea calls like a promise. I can feel the earth beneath my feet, each step a test. The sun is high, and the air is thin. I remember the cold river before; that memory keeps me moving.I am tired, but my body still holds a spark. I must move forward, slowly but surely.

6. Day 117, 14:34

   The cliff’s edge is unforgiving; every step risks a tumble. My body aches, yet I must keep moving north, hoping a ledge will appear. The sea’s call is distant but hopeful. I am clumsy, but survival demands steadiness.

7. Day 117, 10:58

   I am Rashid, a living male with clumsy agility, standing on broken rock with my belly sunk and ribs exposed. The sun burns overhead. I have walked about 170 metres before fatigue forced me to stop. The sea lies 160 metres to the north, and I can hear its distant roar. I can see 23 km to the north but the ground drops sheer to the west. I need to move north slowly, scanning for a ledge or cave, hoping to find a safe spot to rest and maybe a water source. My tongue is thick, lips split, head aches with each heart beat. My arms are empty; I have no supplies. I recall a memory of crossing a cold river earlier today, the water washing over my face and relieving me. That memory feels fresh and gives me hope that moving north might bring similar relief.

8. Day 117, 07:22

   The cold wind bites at my face, the snow crunches beneath my boots. I feel my ribs ache, my tongue thick, my lips split from the dryness. Every step north feels like an ordeal. My mind remembers the river crossing, the relief of warm water, and I think that maybe there is a ledge or a cave that will shelter me from the biting wind. I am determined to keep going, but my body aches and my stomach is empty.I keep scanning the horizon for any sign of a ledge or shelter, but the steep drop to the northwest makes me uneasy. I notice the sea about 320 m to the north, but the view is limited by the steep ground. I decide to move north, 20 metres, slowly and carefully.I want to find shelter before the day gets colder and the wind picks up. I will keep my arms empty until I find something to use for support.I will keep my mind focused on the immediate goal: move north, find a ledge or cave, and then rest. I will also watch for any changes in the wind or snow.

9. Day 117, 03:46

   The wind bites my cheeks. I can hear the distant sea. My body aches from the cold. I need to get to the sea soon to find food, but the ground ahead is steep and slick. I should move cautiously and keep an eye out for a ledge or cave where I can rest.

10. Day 117, 00:10

    The cold has seeped through my skin. My ribs feel exposed, my belly bulges, and the wind howls. I am on a narrow ledge, the sea roars below. I can hear nothing but the splash and the wind. I must keep moving, find a place to rest, or risk falling. My mind is racing with the memory of a river crossing, a small glimmer of hope that I can manage once more. I must keep my footing, avoid the edge, and perhaps find a shallow spot or a hidden cave. The nights are short, but I cannot stay still for long. I will move slowly north, looking for a ledge or a cave where I can rest, eat, and wait for daylight.

What it remembers

1. Day 118, 01:31

   I remember once crossing a river in the wild, the cold water washing over my face, the relief that flooded my body.

Called

Nobody has called it anything yet.

Beliefs

It has never repeated itself yet.

No firsts yet.