Day forty-six. How long can this party last?
I barely remember a time when I wasn't trapped here. Luckily, I believe I have managed to avoid being seen for what I really am. What I really was. If anyone someday finds the napkins upon which I write this journal, perhaps long after I have succumbed, do not judge me too harshly. I entered the party as a scientist, true, but the music...the light snacks...the disinterested, shouted conversation, they have all infiltrated my mind. All I can hope for now is to chronicle my descent into the partying abyss.