I hear voices all the time. My mother says to me that I can continue to grow as a person. She thought I would be a doctor, or a priest, something good, none of that happened.
My first girl Catherine says to me to stop drinking, to listen more. I wish i could shut out all the voices and the alcohol keeps the actual poisioned water from killing me.
My first pet Bernard barks at me in my dreams. Dreams of green fields and cotton candy sold at a county fair. Those lights were so bright.
I’ve been scavenging for so long I stopped worrying about what I ate. Id kill for cotton candy or anything filled with sugar. It’s all rotten now. All things perishable. Last week i found a twinkie, hidden behind a broken vending machine. My tongue long lost the taste for sweets, it tasted like pure nicotine. Felt the hair on my arms raise as it hit my mouth. I did not sleep well that night.
It’s been far too long since I saw another human, far too long since I touched anything but rust.

Why do I carry on?
Because I’m scared of the alternatives.