early morning journal entry

breakfast: not much

Met guy named Bob yesterday. Seemed nice. Met guy named Connor or Conner or however the hell it's spelled looking for a wheelbarrow and trashbags and shovels this morning. I don't know what he's planning on doing with them, but I hope he's planning on going through the rubble of the house. That'd be useful. Hope he's not planning on going through the rubble and claiming any property he finds as his. That wouldn't go over well. Thought something smelling like rotting meat, turned out that someone (scientists probably, since I don't know anyone else that would be that strange) decorated the little shelter people built with flowers and fish. I hate the smell of raw fish. I went off, started collecting things. I don't know how to clean a fish and I don't want to know. More to come maybe if I feel like picking up the pen again today.

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Went to the lake with Bob. Turns out he's a priest. Or was. Found a toe in a clump of weeds he tossed to me. Looked for Lina, couldn't find her or Dave.

I'd say this just like the good old days before I left and found out that Everett was gone, but:
a) I'd be lying through my teeth
b) See (a).

So, continuing on with last time I tried to think rationally, there came the conclusion (that I haven't seen firm, solid evidence for or against yet) that people who are removed don't get put back in the real world alive.

So. Therefore my first and foremost goal is to not get removed. Maybe I can get the Scientists to give me some info on Everett - it might be a lie, it might not, but I'd have something, right? Flailing never helps. Flailing never helps. Flailing never helps.