Happy.... Something

I think it was meant to be Christmas around now. Probably New Year soon, too. That's the thing about being alone, far away from society and its strict time requirements. Sure, I have a watch, and sure, I could mark the days on an old calendar, pretend it mattered that it was a Sunday and not a Wednesday, but it all seems kind of.. pointless? No, it's not without point, it's simply 'Without'. There's no need, no requirement, no purpose, and ultimately, time died with civilisation.

So a Happy Something to everybody out there. Whether you're living by the watch or dying by the Sun, you stay awake, stay aware, and stay alive.

I'll be back soon. Something substantial this time. After all, it's Christmas... maybe.

x

Ignore That

You can ignore that, I guess. I found a bottle of wine in the drawer of my bosses old desk, some Christmas or Birthday present perhaps that never got delivered, so I thought I'd toast to my survival. Having not drank in some 18 months, and barely having eaten recently, it hit me a little hard. It was stupid of me really, anything could have happened.

I'm reminded of The Tempest, by Shakespeare. Of Caliban in paticular;

"Be not afraid; the isle is full of noises,
Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again; and then in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked
I cried to dream again."

I'm no scholar. Just some guy who remembers stupid stuff. Anyway, as I say, ignore the last one. I'll be back soon with some more information; I managed to find a rough generator, at least. Had to fight a wild dog for it (at least, I think it was a dog. I hope it wasnt some giant rat or something). I say fight, the thing could barely growl and limp towards me; more of a mercy killing than anything. I'm not proud to say that it isn't the first animal I've killed since leaving the bunker.

My first thought was "Great, lunch!" but I couldnt go through with it. Eating Rover or Spot, some family's beloved pet, made my stomach turn, and I haven't eaten since. I buried the poor thing.

Now... anybody know how to fix up a Honda EM65is? Hit me back. It's the biggest they had, and my best chance. Nights are getting rough now, and there's a hell of a lot of rain outside, it's proving hard to stay warm. Still.

Keep surviving guys.

x

Just Speak Louder

It doesn't matter how much you tell yourself you'll be okay, being the only man left alive is.. harrowing.

I mean, sure, I'm pretty certain there are others. In the months after we hid in our bunker, after the fallout cleared and the turmoil lessened, we heard the sounds of civilization in the distance. We heard life. Some as far away as nearby cities, others, more than a hair's length away from our meager vault, a few feet below the ground in the middle of nowhere.

And I've seen life since. Fires that once burnt bright only months ago. Footprints in the ash that should have been covered already, if they were indeed older than the ash itself. And the voices. In the distance. The groaning of ruins brought to life by... well, Life! Sure, they arent real voices, they arent words spoken by tongues and mouths. But they speak, dont they? These voices talk louder than any throat, right? The voice of civilization. The voice of Life. Capital L.

But I'm rambling, I guess. Memories of staff meals and laughs shared, of an existence in this very building, then hated, now admired. "How did I live then?", I ask myself from time to time, "a hollow life, superficial to the core", when I should be asking;

"How do I live now?"

With what could easily be defined as 'no' life. Not really. Survival is not life, it's existence.

And without other people, it's no more than just keeping these fragile genes alive. And it's ironic that, only with other people do these genes have any chance of truly surviving.

Is ironic the right word? I forget these days, with no one to keep me in track.

No real information today. Not really. Christmas saddened me before the fall. Now? That pain seems distant, as if I dreamt it. As if I'm angry at a dream, and all the people in it, people I loved or cared for or admired or adored. And now these people are no longer around, and I'm just left feeling angry and hollow.

I'm sorry. These few precious moments of power and I waste it. I am sorry.

I am.

x

Working, At Last

I can't believe the internet still works. I spent the best part of five days trekking back to my birthplace, making my way from the quiet little wildlife sanctuary that enabled my survival. Still not sure why. I guess, even for those who enjoy being alone, it can be a little much sometimes, and I was just hoping - hoping against all hope - that someone else would survive. You know, the cliches; a light in the distance, a recently abandoned fire, muffled voices heard through walls, and then me, running, running, running into the arms of another survivor, as lonesome and battered as I am.

Merry fucking Christmas, huh.

For anybody somehow reading this, I'm at Copthall House in Stourbridge, West Midlands, UK. Postcode is DY8 1PH. Coordinates are; latitude 52.454502, longitude -2.143995. 

We have power approximately 40% of the time. The powerplants must be bowing out, one by one. When we have power, we have internet. We have running water, but it's cold, nothing warm. I'm printing out everything I can about auxilliary power, building maintenance, first-aid, hunting, skinning, farming, boiler repair, etc.

There's a store not far from here, used to specialise in camping and 'roughing it', never my area of expertise. If I can find some sort of portable generator, hell, who knows, I might be able to make this place livable. Who knew that, at the end of the world, the first place I'd think of going was the office. Hah.

There's something really sad about that.

I haven't seen anyone in 5 days. Well, technically, I haven't seen anyone in a year and 16 days, including the 5 days of travel, and the day it took to set everything up here. Anyone except my family. God rest their souls...

Anyway, I'm posting this for any other survivors out there. Anybody, really. Maybe, believing I'm the last man on Earth, I feel the need to document all this crap, you know, so future peoples can learn from my struggles. Maybe this is some 'I Am Legend' shit going down, and the muties out there will begin fearing the strange murderhobo cutting through their ranks. Or maybe I'm just tired of talking to myself.

So, yeah. I'm Dan. And I survived the end of the world.

x