Journal of a rambling bastard -
Alternative title : The ultimate proof that I'm no good at writing.
_
"The end of our lives has been delayed.
Our survival resembles a never-ending administrative procedure.
We have seen the end. What came after that was more painful to watch.
We now know that stupidity survives best in extreme environments.
What happens here makes no sense. Hell, the fact that I have started writing a journal says a lot about that. A man who can't stand writing and complaining starts writing a journal to complain about the daily mess he has to go through."
...
"Your average person. You can tell him/her that the world is about to end, breaking every single promise made, family created, intellectual achievement in the process. The person would stay silent for a second, maybe two if you are very lucky. Then, she/he would say : "Yeah, alright, I get it. It's very sad, and all. But surely it can't happen to me."."
...
"So few people actually care about science. Sometimes, it takes a nuclear winter to make people want to know what a nuclear winter actually is, if it can happen and how it works. Still, even now, as they are faced daily with frozen corpses, I keep meeting people who don't care.
I can't really find the will to blame them. I feel like I don't care much about anything myself right now. Soon, I won't care about anything at all."
_
The words lost among ashes.
Irretrievable.
Burning memories feels like burning flesh.
The pages of the journal of a rambling bastard dissected by the flames.
They have found a gun in a pocket of the frozen man's coat.
They have removed the bullets, thrown them down the sewers.
Have buried the gun in snow, someplace they won't remember. Someplace that will have changed by tomorrow.
They know where keeping guns lead.
Alternative title : The ultimate proof that I'm no good at writing.
_
"The end of our lives has been delayed.
Our survival resembles a never-ending administrative procedure.
We have seen the end. What came after that was more painful to watch.
We now know that stupidity survives best in extreme environments.
What happens here makes no sense. Hell, the fact that I have started writing a journal says a lot about that. A man who can't stand writing and complaining starts writing a journal to complain about the daily mess he has to go through."
...
"Your average person. You can tell him/her that the world is about to end, breaking every single promise made, family created, intellectual achievement in the process. The person would stay silent for a second, maybe two if you are very lucky. Then, she/he would say : "Yeah, alright, I get it. It's very sad, and all. But surely it can't happen to me."."
...
"So few people actually care about science. Sometimes, it takes a nuclear winter to make people want to know what a nuclear winter actually is, if it can happen and how it works. Still, even now, as they are faced daily with frozen corpses, I keep meeting people who don't care.
I can't really find the will to blame them. I feel like I don't care much about anything myself right now. Soon, I won't care about anything at all."
_
The words lost among ashes.
Irretrievable.
Burning memories feels like burning flesh.
The pages of the journal of a rambling bastard dissected by the flames.
They have found a gun in a pocket of the frozen man's coat.
They have removed the bullets, thrown them down the sewers.
Have buried the gun in snow, someplace they won't remember. Someplace that will have changed by tomorrow.
They know where keeping guns lead.