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Baghdaddy

Alex. A journal to keep me sane.

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 “Anger”

Music

My friends still talk to me sometimes. Although they had died many days ago I still feel them around me. Kyle, Adam.That was the gang, the gang I thought I would make it out of here alive with. Funny how things work out, right? They didn't make it too far. I saw them eaten alive right in front of me by those disgusting creatures. Subhumans is what I would refer to them as. However, maybe “the dead” is more fitting. There's no real humanity left in those corpses anyway.

I recently crossed paths with a man I surely thought was dead from the start. A man by the name of Frank. Unknown to me, this was the man who I would be spending most of my time with from now on. He was the man asleep in my boat I used to get to the mainland from that prison way back when. That's a long story I'm not sure I'll even bother writing about… Not like I could remember much of that day even if I tried. It's hard to trust him,  I barely know a single thing about the guy and conversation between us is usually short and non-important. I can tell he had a rough time before all of this. I can hear the weight of his emotions with his every footstep, he treads heavily. One day, he will break. I'm not entirely sure what to do when that happens, but I'll be sure to put an end to him if he even dares to turn on me. He's weak, and I'm sick of the weak.



Speaking of things I’m sick of. I’m sick of greed. Frank and I had come across an interesting scene somewhere in the northern woods. A fine selection of cars, each one seemed to be fixed up and ready to roll. However, I wouldn't trust my life in one of those things. In all honesty, they look less like cars and more like coffins if you catch my drift. With all of them here, that meant there were people who they belonged to… And boy oh boy, was their people, and they smelled worse than the dead that walked around us. 



I didn't remember much names, All I remember was a man named Marv. He was okay I guess, kind of looked like one of those stupid bikers you would see in some 80’s movie. Leather jacket, sunglasses bigger than anything I've seen before, and the icing on top of the cake... A doo rag. A fucking doo rag. I feel bad for him. Maybe I can get him something to wear on his head before he continues to embarrass himself anymore. Here's to hope I guess. 

Another man wore one of those shitty half-off clown masks you find hidden behind the reject Christmas trees in the holiday isle. I mean, I know it's the end of the world, but that doesn't mean you have to look like a moron, right? Nothing says hello like hiding away behind a sheet of plastic. Maybe he's doing us a favor with that thing on. Now that I think of it, he should probably keep it on after all. Its… fitting.

There were a few more that I didn't even care to get a good look at. Besides the ridiculous attire, they were nice people. Untrusting and fishy as hell, but nice. They welcomed us with some water from their well and some awkward conversation to go with it. I wasn't too interested in chatting all day but Frank couldn't seem to get the hint to leave. No, instead I have to sit here and listen to a bunch of old heads chat about the weather and other useless shit that doesn't matter. I know it can get lonely out here, but come on. These guys were obviously going mad, it was written all over their faces. 

The man named Marv started babbling on about “tribal” mentality and how everyone was out for their own. He had dropped a few names of some groups I've run into. Anarchy, Socialists, that's all I really remember, I stopped paying attention after that. Those groups could eat dirt for all I care. What are they going to do, restore peace, order? I'll see it when I believe it. Not like people haven't tried that before. I guess we will see what is made out of them. 

This pen is starting to run out of ink, but my mind is still racing with thoughts. Might have to go for a midnight walk down to the beach or something. I mean, we are close enough. Maybe it'll help me clear my head. Until then, staying alive.

Alex. 3/16/2018

Edited by Baghdaddy

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Nothing says hello like hiding away behind a sheet of plastic.

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