Gamble.

It's getting worse.

I don't know what's happening to me, and I don't know why it's gone this far. The only think I can even say that I'm even a bit certain about is that I don't have much time.

Before what, you ask? I honestly don't know. And I don't want to stick around to find out.

If anytime is a good time to test out Project Probable, then it's now. It might kill me. It might not. It probably won't, though. I've been very careful about downing the negative effects. At this point, I'm at least 93.6% certain that it's consumable. All I have to do is make the proper preparations.

It's weird. At some point in the past, there might have been a few things holding me back from going through with this. Now, I only realize that I have nothing else to lose. Not anymore. Any regrets that I may have are either off-island, or... gone. Disappeared. Don't know where they are. If they come back to find me gone, then... well, it's their loss.

Who knows? When I get out there, and I finish my business... then I might even come back. Might. It depends on how it is out there, really... and it depends if I can even survive out there long enough.

I've been lucky in the past, though. I don't see why I can't be lucky this time.