Enough White Lies Can Scorch The Earth

Last Winter, When So Many Living Joined The Dead And Our Prey Became Scarce, I Watched Some Of My Friends Become Full-dead. The Transition Was Undramatic. They Just Slowed Down, Then Stopped, And After A While I Realised They Were Corpses. It Disquieted Me At First, But It’s Against Etiquette To Notice When One Of Us Dies. I Distracted Myself With Some Groaning.

I Would Like My Life To Be A Movie So I Could Cut To A Montage.

Regret Is Pointless. I Never Do Anything Without First Deciding To Do It Based On Facts And Feelings, And If It Doesn't Work Out How I Hoped, Oh Well, There's Another Notch On My Experience Belt.

I Feel An Unfamiliar But Pleasant Sensation In My Lips, Tugging Them Upward. This Is... New.

It's More Eerie To Be Alone In A City That's Lit Up And Functioning Than One That's A Tomb. If Everything Were Silent, One Could Almost Pretend To Be In Nature. A Forest. A Meadow. Crickets And Birdsong. But The Corpse Of Civilization Is As Restless As The Creatures That Now Roam The Graveyards.