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It''''s the year of our lord 1518, and I''''m on a ship to Mexico. My sanity is hanging on by a thread, and only writing in my diary helps. This is life number three, and I''''m back in my own world only 500 years or so in the past. Here is the kicker: the world is filled with soul-hungry spirits. I can see them in everyone, and I think sometimes I feel them crawling on me. Not all of it is bad; I have a knife, wood to carve, and a diary to write in.