That’s it.
I need to do this. Every day until I die, if necessary.
This is the one place where I can unload all of the problems that are eating at me. So much happens these days that it’s hard to keep my head straight. Eventually I will succumb; there are just too darn many of them. By leaving behind these words, hopefully someone will find the strength to keep going.
One can only lose sleep for so long before crumbling to this cruel existence. I’ve been lucky thus far, and have been able to rest up when necessary. Still, I could use more. Heck, I could always use more. Just one night’s sleep is all I’m asking for.
I must not give up hope. Every problem brings a solution. And opportunity.
If anything, this journal is a reminder that I haven’t turned yet—that there’s a life worth fighting for! And all of those simple pleasures would just slip through the cracks if I didn’t take a moment to reflect.
I must honor the memory of those who have given their lives to help get me this far. They will not be soon forgotten, and this is as good a place as any to lay down their bones. I’ll write their names in my own blood, if necessary. Those who endured the apocalypse must live on in some meaningful way. I will make note of this, blow by blow, moment by moment.
There’s a way out of this. I can feel it in my veins. There’s something I’m missing, something that I’ve been exposed to and promptly forgotten. The answer is buried deep within me. It’s just the matter of getting it all out of me.
Though weary and pathetic, I have survived.
I must help others do the same, even if it’s only recounting my adventures.
This is my legacy, a legacy worth fighting for.
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