Day 75

Steve and I have made up our little differences, I think losing all our normal day to day luxuries such as TV, Facebook and xbox has been getting to us, adapting has been hard, the stress of the world collapsing and losing all our loved ones has taken its toll. We sat down and spoke properly about everything, realised we were just being silly and fighting over things so trivial, it really wasn't worth giving away our position in a moment of anger. We have been really trying to take a step back before snapping and just thinking about the long term goal of survival. getting drunk on stale beer and Jack probably hasn't been helping the aggression problem either, I remember when I used to do door work, and the amount of times I used to see life long best friends kicking 9 shades of shit out of each other over some girl they wanted to chat up, only to be best friends again in the morning when the booze wore off. Alcohol can sometimes be just a big a problem than sitting there bored and sober.
What we need is a big bag of weed to have the mother of all smokes, I do not touch the stuff, yet in times like this who is there to tell us its wrong, illegal or bad for you? From what I hear it relaxes you, chills you right out and gives you the same feeling of being drunk without the aggression. Probably not good to have with my undiagnosed and treated mental condition though, I will probably wake up on the roof wearing Steve's skin or something and having no memory of what the hell happened. What doesn't make things better for us is the crisps we have been living on have started to turn and taste very much like cardboard. Going out to get fresher crisps isn't an option as they will all be getting to this stage as there is nobody around to produce and distribute fresh foods. In fact I don't think it will be long before we will have to start roaming the local fields with home made spears and hunting for rabbits and pigeons. I have to say, if we have to resort to that, then I couldn't think about going out naked except with one of those leathery flap type things you see in caveman documentaries to hide my bits. It would be rude not to, I can imagine the look on any possible survivors face when they see some fat modern caveman hobbling through the football pitch with a sharpened snooker cue trying to spear a pigeon, but what would I care? The world has gone to shit, you are expected to go a bit crazy to lighten the mood.
I probably wouldn't do that weird ritual where the smear the blood of the kill on your own face, that really is going a bit stone age, not to mention the smell will be a radar to every zombie in a 20 mile radius.

Looking out the window has been a common past time at the moment, it is strangely fascinating watching the dead go about their business, you kind of stop to wonder what they are thinking about, apart from food, what is it that drives them? They are lost in their own hell, with scraps of memory that keep them wandering around for some purpose. I saw one pushing a Tesco shopping trolley, it was empty, but still, there was something that made it decide to take hold of it for a walk down the street. When you think how many times in our lives we have held a shopping trolley, there must be some element of past memory that makes them remember what it is and what it does. Another zombie sat for hours sitting in an old ford escort, trying to drive it. From what I could see, it had the memory of a fish because every few minutes it would check to see if the key was in the ignition, then would make a half hearted attempt to look around for it, continue steering the wheel, stop and check the ignition again. This endless cycle went on forever, until something distracted him, probably a birds wings flapping out of a tree or something. It was enough for it to climb out and investigate the general area. So there is something there, even if it really is the most basic form of intelligence, probably that of a common primate, but nothing more that stands out. None have decided to pick up weapons or plan any form of strategic operation to hunt or look for living survivors. They really are pathetic and so easy to kill, its like they just want you to kill them, they have no form of self preservation or leadership hierarchy.

When you study them long enough you start to feel sorry for them, realise they aren't all that scary, they are vulnerable eating machines that only have an advantage when in bigger numbers. I probably shouldn't slag them off too much as I have nearly been caught out by 3 of them all on separate occasions so I guess that makes me just as stupid, well stupid or careless, something I need to sort out if I want to continue enjoying oxygen. It only takes one careless mistake to end it all and I have probably used all my luck, so next time I am out there, I have to be on my guard with no exceptions.