I’ve been keeping myself busy with all the things that don’t need to be attended to, but I do it anyways because I don’t really have much else to do. I’ve been sneaking back into people’s houses in order to look for that guy that this lady wanted me to find, you know since not a lot of people go outside anymore considering the recent massacre that took place. What if I find his corpse? Hell, I’d drag that all the way back to her just to see the look on her face. Anyways, back to the massacre; it’s not entirely my fault. Well, yeah it is. At least I got paid for it, 10,000 bottle shards. DO YOU KNOW HOW RICH I AM? THERE’S NOTHING HERE THAT I CAN’T BUY! I could buy souls and sell them as though they were a set of old tattered books. Now tell me, did I do good?
I realized that I don’t really have a favorite color, but that doesn’t mean anything does it? I ended up talking o a little girl I met outside of a church that house injured Wastelanders, she told me that she loved the color purple. Purple? Nobody has seen a purple that hasn’t been turned to brown over 200 years ago. But alas, she has. She pulled out a little notebook of everything from the pre-rad era; it held colors, animals, myths and legends, and the idea of there only being one “God”.
I wanted to take the book from her but I really didn’t have enough time to kill her to take it. I’ll get to her in a couple of years I guess. Maybe she’ll be of some use to me. If I don’t die before that.
It almost hurts me when people look at me as if they could tell everything that I’ve done wrong. I almost laugh, I almost think of how further conversations would go between me and those who stare. It never stops either. They look away as if looking me in the eye were to burn them. I can feel an anger go straight through my veins and it feels as if it’s trying to push its way out the same way I push the chemicals in with my syringe. It seems like a losing battle, but I have no other choice but to battle it while I watch it win.
Its times like these that make me feel as though there is something wrong with me.
What I really love is when I stand at the edge of a canyon or crater. Nothing ever manages to survive once they fall in. If the fall doesn’t kill them then the lack of everything, will.
Sometimes I just wonder what the dead do. I never followed a “religion” because my father always pointed out the things that were flawed about every faith we ever discussed. Most people do things to end up in a place of good or a place of suffering and torture. What? I don’t even understand the one about torture. We are living in the Wasteland, aren’t we? Where the summers get so hot and the winters so unbelievably cold; there is no torture that could be considered worse. It doesn’t help with all those people preach peace and burning people at the stake. I bet you that once they’re done with the burning the poor orphans that run around in rags and ill-fitting clothes gather around to eat those who have sinned. I basically figured out that in every religion there is, I’m going to a place that supposedly worse than the world I live in today.
I don’t know where I’ll go when my lifeless body hits the floor, but I think that I could be sent to the Void. My father told me about it. The place where time doesn’t exist. Neither does space. There is officially nothing there, it officially doesn’t even exist. It’s the idea of nothingness, the dread that fills you when you realize that everything that you have ever done never mattered in the end.
The Void exists inside of me. It resonates. No matter what I do.
I feel that dread with every breath I take.