Nobodies Keeping Track Anymore

What's that saying? Once bitten twice shy? Nah, maybe it's the name of some song. I don't know anymore. Nobodies been keeping track for a long time now. You're probably wondering why this paper smells like shit. Turns out, people tend to leave the spiral notebooks over the canned glazed hams. This shit gets left with all the rotting corpses to absorb all the lovely aromas of the afterlife. Who'da thunk it? I've been going back and forth with these idea's for a while now, maybe the Florida Turnpike wasn't the best idea. Who gives a damn though, right? In the sunshine state, a bottle of Malibu, fucking oranges everywhere... Who'd be upset right? Who cares if my chest feels like its' gone two rounds with a semi and loss? Well, I care. I'd be upset. I am upset. My feet no longer feel like mine. They feel like pieces of timber attached to organic stuff. Scuffed down by the road, broken glass doesn't really improve the journey either. I can't step out of the road either, you ever been bitten by those fire ants!? You'd rather let Mr. Shambles get a hold of you. 

I met a dog. He looks more worn out than I do. At first, he tried going for my left leg. I was able to tumble and roll, holding his face, neck, down to the simmering pavement. I wrestled with him until he stopped trying to rip out my jugular. I have to wrestle with the thought of eating him now. I guess being man's best friend doesn't exempt him from being sustenance. 

I found some pieces of wood, well, I found a dresser in the back of an old Subaru Outback, smashed that shit up all nice like. Was able to get a respectable fire going, and found a skiing pike. I don't know what they're called. Those things skiers use to slope down the mountain sides. Some poor son of a bitch was probably on his way to Aspen or some dumb shit. Can't really tell. I used the skiing pike to kebab some meat. Shit was charred to perfection. Delicious. 

Of course, the dog started whining, I tossed him a crisped squirrel leg. Couldn't go through with it. The poor guy could barely fight me as is. His owner must had been part of the great exodus that happened right after everything went sideways.

I don't know where I am going to go now. As far as I can tell, I need to start heading north. Maybe the cold will slow them down. 

Who the hell knows when winter's coming though, nobodies been keeping track for a long time now.