Day One Hundred Twenty One:
There was a time when I would have said that sleeping in a car was the worst night's rest I have ever got. Compared to sleeping in a cold concrete drainage tube though, sleeping in a car was like staying at the Ritz Carlton with my own fleet of butlers and maids and whatever else rich people enjoyed before the world came unhinged.
When I woke up the my head felt a little more clear and my body was a little less weary and that combined with a little bit of luck result in me finding a nice tire iron in the side panel in the back of the car. I thought I had checked pretty good but apparently I was wrong.
So now I am sitting inside a little house that for once doesn't contain the mummified remains of whomever was living here previous to me. Sort of weird that they would barricade themselves in only to leave in the end. Oh well, I will just add that to the never ending pile in my mind titled "Eternal Unsolved Mysteries".
Most of the food in the cabinets turned to gross a long time ago but some of the canned stuff still seemed safe. That, plus a map of the local area and suddenly I started to feel like maybe my luck was changing. Then I remembered that my friends were dead and my life has absolutely no meaning and now I am going to end this little entry wishing I had found a bottle of alcohol and some Prozac instead of some food and a map. What a world.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Day One Hundred Twenty:
Day One Hundred Twenty:
After walking/running/skulking all day yesterday, I came across a house today. Nothing special, probably just someone's hunting cabin but any shelter = no wind at night = the first good thing to happen to me in a while.
The problem though was that the door was barricaded shut. Which wouldn't have been that much of a problem but, the windows were also barricaded shut. When I walked around the back to see if I could find a way in I found a car with no keys and unlike every other survivor in the history of an abandoned world... I still don't know how to hotwire a car so who knows if it still ran or not.
Anyway, the back was zipped up as tight as the front. Might have been able to open up one of the windows with a heavy rock or a few shots from my one of my guns but... doesn't make much sense to spend all that time sneaking through the woods just so that I could fire up a flare and lay myself out on a dinner table for those bastards that were still probably tracking me.
So I got up on the roof and checked the chimney. But with my luck I would have wound up getting stuck in a stupid chimney and slowly starving or choking to death. So after much deliberation I gave up operation Santa Claus and went back to trying to find a real way into the house.
After several hours of failure I wound up sleeping in the car. I suck.
After walking/running/skulking all day yesterday, I came across a house today. Nothing special, probably just someone's hunting cabin but any shelter = no wind at night = the first good thing to happen to me in a while.
The problem though was that the door was barricaded shut. Which wouldn't have been that much of a problem but, the windows were also barricaded shut. When I walked around the back to see if I could find a way in I found a car with no keys and unlike every other survivor in the history of an abandoned world... I still don't know how to hotwire a car so who knows if it still ran or not.
Anyway, the back was zipped up as tight as the front. Might have been able to open up one of the windows with a heavy rock or a few shots from my one of my guns but... doesn't make much sense to spend all that time sneaking through the woods just so that I could fire up a flare and lay myself out on a dinner table for those bastards that were still probably tracking me.
So I got up on the roof and checked the chimney. But with my luck I would have wound up getting stuck in a stupid chimney and slowly starving or choking to death. So after much deliberation I gave up operation Santa Claus and went back to trying to find a real way into the house.
After several hours of failure I wound up sleeping in the car. I suck.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Day One Hundred Nineteen:
Day One Hundred Nineteen:
The thing about situations like this is the person telling the story rarely has any real life problems. So you know the person is scared, and running for their life. And you know that they are formulating plans and moving forward towards some goal.
But what you rarely see, what is almost never portrayed is the absolute fucking misery of being stuck in the wilderness if you aren't some type of military trained survivalist. Actually no, I take that back. Because even if you are some type of John Rambo survivalist it is still probably miserable, just maybe a little less so.
Like going to the bathroom. I know, I should be focusing on the fact that something might come out of the woods and devour me but I can't spend 24 hours a day being afraid. So now that I am taking a break to write this I want to talk about going to the bathroom.
Not only is it just awkward to squat down in the woods, but do you know what it feels like to be squatted down with your pants around your ankles and then a squirrel breaks a branch somewhere behind you? It feels like the end of the world. Because in your mind, that isn't a squirrel. In your mind, that is death itself frothing at the mouth with drool running down its chin. So you turn, mid excretion and fall over.
So now, not only are you alone, lost, tired, miserable, and depressed... but you have shit on yourself. And if there is one thing that destroys any last shred of morale you might have... it is shit. If it wasn't for my strange desire to continue writing in this journal I probably would have shot myself immediately after that happened.
Fortunately I can change into some other clothes since I have some in my backpack except, oh wait... no I don't. On the plus side, if I do get eaten at least I won't be tasty.
The thing about situations like this is the person telling the story rarely has any real life problems. So you know the person is scared, and running for their life. And you know that they are formulating plans and moving forward towards some goal.
But what you rarely see, what is almost never portrayed is the absolute fucking misery of being stuck in the wilderness if you aren't some type of military trained survivalist. Actually no, I take that back. Because even if you are some type of John Rambo survivalist it is still probably miserable, just maybe a little less so.
Like going to the bathroom. I know, I should be focusing on the fact that something might come out of the woods and devour me but I can't spend 24 hours a day being afraid. So now that I am taking a break to write this I want to talk about going to the bathroom.
Not only is it just awkward to squat down in the woods, but do you know what it feels like to be squatted down with your pants around your ankles and then a squirrel breaks a branch somewhere behind you? It feels like the end of the world. Because in your mind, that isn't a squirrel. In your mind, that is death itself frothing at the mouth with drool running down its chin. So you turn, mid excretion and fall over.
So now, not only are you alone, lost, tired, miserable, and depressed... but you have shit on yourself. And if there is one thing that destroys any last shred of morale you might have... it is shit. If it wasn't for my strange desire to continue writing in this journal I probably would have shot myself immediately after that happened.
Fortunately I can change into some other clothes since I have some in my backpack except, oh wait... no I don't. On the plus side, if I do get eaten at least I won't be tasty.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)