When I was in high school, I frequently got bored in class. And being as doped up as I was on adderall, I constantly found myself thinking myself to death about fictional scenarios. One of these was, what if (for some reason) the 28 Days Later kind of deal happened to me - I would wake up in my parents' house, most of the population gone without a trace, with the outside world being ravaged by an undead/zombie infection.

This is how I would survive...

1. I scrounge around the house for car keys, and (assuming that I found them, and the family car was intact) I would take out my father's vehicle, a Honda Element, and drive around looking for survivors in my area. Upon finding none, I would stop the car outside a convenience store, such as the BP on the corner of Hewatt Road and Highway 78. I would use necessary means to get inside, bagging up the entire store's worth non-perishable snack food. Along with the food, I would gather all the water based drinks, like Gatorade and such. Next would come the store's inventory of batteries, flashlights, things I would find useful, etc. I would take the car back to my parents' house, and look for other useful post-apocalypic supplies - tools, blanket, clothes, extra food, pots, pans, and most importantly, my oldest bike - a Kona Mountain Bike.


2. I would say my last goodbyes to my childhood home, and then head out toward downtown Lilburn, near The Loop pizza parlor, El Torero, and once again most importantly, the outdoor supply shop. I would venture into the dark, ominous depths of the building weilding my aluminum little league baseball bat, a flashlight, and a big rolling suitcase. The point of the quest would be to get guns. I would put handguns and high powered hunting rifles into the suitcase, along with as much ammunition as I could carry. On the way out, I would grab some mountain bike tubes, throw the stash into the Element, and make my way down Highway 78 toward Stone Mountain Park.


3.

Journal, Bob Marshall Wilderness Labor Detail beginning July 6, 2007.

Day 1. Life, as I once knew it, has ended. I'm going to halfway in this shit hole of a state. (X), I miss you so much. Truly. One day, I'll come back to you. So many things have been left unsaid. So many beautiful memories will never exist. Our love, my life, and my sanity have been uprooted. Home, and music are but fleeting memories. Same with your voice. Your smile. I'll find my way back, I promise.

Pray for me.

Day 2. We hiked through a pass today. I snapped some great photos for you. There were these untouched, forgotten meadows down in the valley... God, I wish you were here. You would love this.

We did a lot of work on the trails today. It was insane. After 4 miles of rugged terrain, we ended up deep in this... forest? There was a wonderful river with tons of pretty rocks. I got some for you. Just being at that river leaves me completely speechless. The colors, the purity... gorgeous. I'll take some pictures tomorrow. I know you won't get this for a while but, you are my sunshine, my will to push through the bruises on my hips and the blisters on my hands from my pulaski. One day I'll come back to you, lovely. I'm beat.

Day 3. to be continued

-------------------

A letter to Jordan, the day before I walked away from Alternative Youth Care with only a pillow case of belongings... I never got a chance to send it, because I left before I even put a stamp on it.


"Jordan,
I'm feeling very uneasy right about now. Tomorrow is supposed to be the day. I have 33 dollars hidden away in the student lounge at FVCC - that's it. It makes me slightly angry how if these people were to find out what I was plotting, what I have been doing, they would accuse me of being 'sketchy'. I am not 'sketchy'. I'm making necessary arrangements is all, taking the first, nervous step to raise my fists and take my life back from these people. They have no right to whisper, "Don't even worry about your life anymore, we have you all set up for the next few years," over my shoulder as I eat dinner. NO - I can't allow the intimidation to eat at me ever again, to give me that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. These kids they've brainwashed can say they're happy all they want, but they can't fool me. Most of them have been here just as long as me (10 months) or even longer, but for some reason I just won't give in. And I refuse to put up a front any longer, to wear a facade, to broadcast a fake smile to divert attention from me. Never again will I ask permission to go outdoors, to feel the sun on my face, to eat, or to work and move my body. Never again will I allow myself to be punished or chastised in any way for growing facial hair, not washing my clothes, or for not wearing socks. I will no longer be forced to eat meat, or anything else that I don't want to eat. I'll never again be criticized for the amount of milk I drink!

Sure, I may have made many a wrong decision before, but it makes me sick when they tell me that I am there because I have screwed up my life to the point where I have lost the right to make my own decisions! I am a HUMAN BEING, and I will make my own decisions and live my fucking life! I have not lost the right to pursue my dreams, my desires, my sexuality, and the true reasons we are alive... I must leave, before I forget all of it. I have been asleep, braving my way through an institutional nightmare in this reformatory for almost a year now. Labor for free, doing work for the staff, manual labor... never again. I look around at all these guys, and it makes me sad how most of them have been beaten into emotional submission by these counselors.

They manipulate our parents as well! My parents have blindly stood by them since the beginning. I have seen them once in the past year, and they can only call me a few times a month. Is there nothing wrong with this picture? Walking down Highway 93 is the only way to take back the things they've deprived me of. So what if life on the street is dangerous? I DON'T CARE. A bed and scheduled meals aren't payment enough for the exchange of precious, blue skied days like today. The seeds of my past loves, past freedoms, my past life... the seeds of my defiance have grown to the point where I can no longer push them down or hide them. I'm not afraid. I am strong. I am capable. I am iron. All the weight lifting, all the deprivation, it's all been training for THIS MOMENT. I'm not trying to prove anything to you, because I know this is what you want, you want it just as I do. And if I can make it through, I will find my way home. By the time this seemingly endless, bitter winter is over, I will be back in your arms. We can do all the things we've been dreaming of doing together. We can do all the things we've been writing about every day for months. I'll be back with all the people who I shared heart wrenching, life changing moments with... the people in my heart that I have fought so mercilessly to protect, to preserve... most of all, you. I haven't forgotten those building blocks, Jordan. I haven't forgotten those epic moments of our lives. They glow inside me like a FURNACE, like a steaming, burning fire. My alcoholism and the terrible shit I did during my addiction were part of the struggle that made me who I am today.

If nothing else, I hope this letter shows you how I truly feel, and how determined I am to get back. To my home, to my heart, to the trees, to the heat, the humidity, the hills, the lights... and most importantly,

Back to you.


Sincerely, Bob



ps. I am so fucking in love with you.

a poem about decay

Decay; all encompassing, inevitable, amazing, destructive, natural.
We could paint our walls every month if we wanted to,
But that doesn't mean that our house wasn't built 40 years before we were born.
We can smoke away our time and our money,
But one day we'll run out of both.
We can bandage up our hearts as often as necessary,
But our love leaks out faster with every new hole.

a short essay for you

Love and relationships have shown me that no two human beings are exactly alike. We all see things from different perspectives. We all have our different views, our different greens, our different reds, our different colors and our different interests. We are all humans, but trying to truly classify any one of us is impossible. That is what makes us so wonderful. And when two people fall in love, they often forget that as individuals, they will obviously have differences in what they perceive. Sometimes this causes arguments, but it should never tear a couple apart. Our differences are what make us so perfect for each other. These differences are what make you YOU and what make me ME. If we were both YOU or both ME, we wouldn't be so in love with each other, would we? I love you because you are YOU, not because you could ever be ME, nor will you ever fit the mold we all tend to create to contain the "perfect relationship"... and neither will I. We are different and we are in love and I don't ever want things to change. We were made for each other. Nothing else matters...

(neither of these relate to each other... as a matter of fact, they contradict each other)









You are the world to me.