I’ve been sitting here for ten
minutes, staring at a blinking cursor. I guess maybe I should not have taken
all that time off at Christmas. Maybe it is that. I don’t remember what I have
told you. I don’t know what I need to tell you. But I am looking at that
header. 246 Days. 246 days I have been doing this. And for what?
Is anyone reading this? Is it all
pointless? Is there some safe house somewhere? Is there some stronghold of
humanity where people are planning to strike out and reclaim the entire world
from the zombie infestation?
Obviously we still have power but
who else does? Can we even call it the World Wide Web anymore? For all I know,
this is barely posting out of the server that we are still miraculously connected
to.
What is the end game here? What if
none of us make it and humanity is literally wiped from the planet? So, some
alien race comes along, lands, uses their ray guns to wipe out the zombies,
uses their tech to repower our electric grid and computers, then they decipher our
dead language, and just happen to stumble upon this blog where they can say,
“Oh, look here, Shaboz of Glorgnax 7, clearly unliving dead cannibals devoured
their population. Thank you Ryan Mathews for recording your people’s demise!”
When you type it all out, you see
just how pointless the whole thing is. All this, the fortifications, the
barricades. We’ve still lost people. Lots of people. I mean all we are really
doing is delaying the inevitable. Death is coming for all of us. It is either
going to get us by being devoured by a shambling horde of zombies or starving
to death on top of a produce cooler with the only sustenance left to be had
being frozen pie crust, capers, and Tom Collins’ Mix.
And what did I do during the Zombie
Apocalypse? How did I endure? I wrote a fucking blog. I kept telling myself:
This will get us rescued. This is going to save lives. This will tell our
story.
It was none of that. It was a
distraction. It was something to keep my mind focused and alert. Fred used to
catalogue and organize and clean all the weapons over and over again. We do
that with our food. We say it is so we can ration properly but that is all just
bullshit we tell ourselves so we don’t go insane. Because no matter how you
slice it, here is the 100% true fact. WE ARE TRAPPED IN HERE.
Yes we have sorties and we go out
but the goal is never to move on. The plan always ends with “And then, we will
head back to the store.” We are here for safety and food but, really, this is
our prison. These are bars and walls that we have put ourselves behind. And for
what? To delay death.
I’m done. I’m tired. I will post
this. I won’t delete it. But I’m not proofreading it. “You know you typed
‘your’ when you should have typed ‘you’re’.” Fuck you,
This is probably the dumbest idea I
ever had. It is certainly the dumbest thing I have ever written. And I used to
post comments on YouTube. Yeah.
Good luck. Logging out.
