Zombies

No one knew how it started, but TV shows and movies sure as hell prepared us for it. Now this reads like a journal, not a book, or a comic book. Cuz' it is a journal. I started calling it Mojo, just with the spanish J = H. I don't know why, i guess it's the combination of shitload of dead people, constant killing and no running water. But on the upside; there was an aniversary today, i've killed my 1000th zombie. But the traditions demanded i kill it in a extrodanary fasion, so i did. I got some help from my frends, they're called gasoline, karbit, and some maches. I swear to god that was the biggest explosion since we blew up a mountain, to block a horde one time...

Anyway it's been a good week, my weed farm finally started to show some results, meaning that on monday i was high as a motherfucker. All day. But also due to lack of rolling papers i made myself a bong. It's a masterpiece, if i may say so, it's not like i have a lot of people to show it to. Well i do but, i din't really like tgose folks. I do have one friend tho, and he lives up the road from my place (up the road is cca. 15 km). But we see eachother from time to time. Last time he had a family, but i think they died last week or so, not that i know about it but it had something to do with a small homemade napalm incident, but on the upside, the fire was beautiful, you could see it for kilometers around.

I've been living in this shithole of a place for 5 to 6 months now, and oh boy i intend to move. But let me describe this "home" of mine. It's quite small, about 30 square meters, but in this space i've managed to put a stove, a "bed" mostly made out of old rags and stuff, couple of closets and ofcourse my farm, which if i may quite modestly say i am very proud of. When i found those seeds, i became the happiest man alive or walking-dead-sort of-not really-alive thing. But i think by now you get the picture: i'm a stoner in an apocalypse by zombie plague. One might say its boring, and sad or even tragic, but i find it hilarious, i trully do. Becouse since it happened i've seen some happy motherfuckers around here. I mean, what is better than geting in a fight with your wife about some dumb shit, than literally beeing able to go out and shoot somebody out of frustration?!? What beats that? Nothing! Except maybe a cold one after a busy day of procrastinating, like most of my days go.

Now people usually think about survival in this sort of mess i'm in, but i rather think about life. If you jeed food you go out and shoot something, if you need water you go to the river and drink some, it's quite simple really, all this post-apocalyptic bullshit. Just movies make it hard with all the drama and family stuff. There can't be any drama if they're dead. Not that i killed them, but i kight have been involved in the proces before their death. But don't start hating on me yet, let me explain. My father was an asshole, he was that regular type city guy with a low paid job. Angry all the time, and probably would trade me for a football ticket, he was for Liverpool, told you he was an idiot. My mom was caring, lovely and sweet, now think of the best posible oposites of those words, and you'll describe her perfectly. I had a sister once, but she married some ruch guy in columbia, i never met him, but i think i snorted his coke once, it was some good shit. But they're in a better place now, the police caught them couple of years back and they all died while trying to escape, i think the house blew up or something.

Now back to reality. By these words let my adventure begin, now i shall wonder in ti the unknow, and probably die a horrible death, but why dafuck do i care, the world is fucked anyways, better be living the last days to the max

End of part one.