Friday, December 23, 2011
Fucking zombs. Can’t even write in peace. Come running out of the bushes at me. Took care of him after a brief struggle. Surprised there was only one. Now I’m worried there are more. Also worried I’m going into another town of zombs. This is one of those times I want to yell again. The next zomb I kill I think I’m just going to hold up and yell at. Really curse it out.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Think I found a good path. Should lead to a small town. Hopefully. Had a dream of getting home last night. Or maybe I was just imagining it. Imagining it like it was. Being in my bed. Watching tv. Computer. Wow, it has been so long since I used a computer. Hard to believe I almost forgot they existed. All that technology gone to waste. A nice warm bath. Delicious dinner. Every day stuff that is so normal you take it for granted. I don’t think I will ever come to grips with what has happened. It is unreal. I mean,
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Friday, December 16, 2011
Maybe riding on a bike with bad wheels, and a hurt leg wasn’t such a great idea. Hard to peddle, and didn’t do my leg any good putting that kind of pressure on it. I wonder if my leg will ever be the same again. Did make it away from these homes. Found some signs but not sure where to go. Going to try to find them on the map. Need to get back to trying to go home.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Didn’t feel like writing. Tired of it. Decided to play tennis instead. Except without the racket. Couldn’t find one. Probably used it as a weapon. Spent days throwing tennis balls down the street, and at the surrounding houses. See if it would spark any zombies to come out. No luck. More like luck. One more time tomorrow. If no zombs, it is time to ride.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
They appear to be gone. Spotted some zombs walking through the street days ago. They were hungry. Looking for food. I’m looking for food. It’s almost unfair that they can eat us, but we can’t eat them. Maybe it’s a fair turn of events. We eat a lot of things that couldn’t eat us in return. The things you never think about. So I hid in the mess in the garage for days. Quiet. Don’t think they smelled or heard me. I think they were around the house. Never inside. Finally I crawled out to take a look. Not going anywhere even though I don’t see them. Wouldn’t be the first time they hid til I came out.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
I was thinking about a making a list of survival tips, but I see no point. If you are reading this, I’m most likely dead, or a zombie. You being alive means you have outlasted me. I just hope maybe there is something in here that you can use. Pass on my stories. Hopefully you are starting over by now, and the zombs are gone. The world won’t be able to move on until they are gone. Do I want to be a part of that world? I guess I do. That is why I continue this fight. But how will I know when the rebuilding process begins? It might have begun somewhere by now. I’m glad I’m not in charge of that mission. We are going to need real leaders. People who can really figure out how to put this puzzle back together.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Remembering Ethan. Going through what I’ve been through hurting my leg. Got me thinking. There is a mental aspect to surviving. There is a physical aspect to surviving. Both challenges. Mentally sometimes I think I’m losing my mind. I have to really think about what I’m doing. Where I am. What is going on. Sometimes I have to force myself to realize the world is different from what I was use to. Thinking about the past. Family. Friends. People I’ve met through my time on the run. The horrible sites. Having to kill. Journal you have been a help. Letting me release my feelings. My only friend. The physical. Dealing with hunger. Thirst. Not sleeping. Living in trees. Being hurt like I am now. Traveling on foot. Fighting off zombies. Running from zombies. Pain on both fronts. It is hard fighting to survive. And why? Why is the million dollar question. Not that there is any point to having a million dollars these days.