Journals of the Valley Outcasts: Caleb #2/13
#2/13 outcast stories

jotvo Nomad through time flowing through life.
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Journals from a group of outcasts, living in the same time, in the same town, in the same bubble. Part 2.


Journals of the Valley Outcasts: Caleb #2/13


by AFA

I'm exhausted by this reality.

The day sky too smogged.

Fresh air a currency.

Body armors on dresses.

Only two choices after school.

Fight in a war on cursed land, or run away and disappear into the forests.

Aint that a mo fo bitch.

And i don't even know why i'm expressing this.

Just empty thoughts.

I guess i'm just used to it.

My father used to say that personal diaries weren't a big deal when he was young.

But that something changed after the blackout of 2030.

He talked about an Emma Jay. How she pioneered the human ritual of chronicling personal thoughts and experiences.

She supposedly feared the loss of knowledge and the collective wisdom of mankind. Our collective growth i guess. I honestly can't remember what his exact words were anymore.

He's been dead for too long now.

I miss you dad.

I'm thankful for your journals, and your three grateful thoughts.

Today was a little tough. I guess thats why i'm rambling and going off topic. Why am i giving a semi history lesson to my journal. Ramble ramble ramble. I miss you dad.

Today was the last day of September. Sill living in Marko's house.

I've been in school for a month.

I feel like i'm going to break.

In the morning news, we learned about the lifting of bans on explosive weapons here on the homeland.

I don't know why it stuck with me. It wasn't even a major segment. They just mentioned it and moved on.

I just feel like this is a sign of where mankind is going.

People at home can now droid drop weapons at their front steps, for "protection" now.

Sick world.

I'm thankful for Ms. Lopez.

When my father died, she knew what my mother was.

They grew up together, she knew my mother wasn't normal.

At my fathers funeral, she came to my mother, and offered her help.

The conversation did not go smoothly.

But with the presence of other people, they collectively convinced.

And i had a second home.

This home.

I never really stayed here. I preferred the motel, or the streets.

But that was when i was high.

I'm just thankful that i'm here now. And i get the chance to save up some money.

I want to runway away.

But this time, not away from something.

instead towards something.

A plan.

It's been a month since school's started. And i still haven't made any new friends.

I have Marko. And that's about it.

Theres a girl in my bio class. Her names Willow.

She's beautiful.

Rich dark caramel skin.

Light brown eyes.

I've managed to speak to her 5 times now.

Each interaction getting longer.

I hate that we don't sit next to eachother. Our teacher is such a puta. We never get the chance to mingle.

All i do is school

look for mom.

Or work side jobs.

This routine is going to turn me mad.

I'm already feeling, some of it's... possibly life long lasting side effects.

Oh well. I need to know what happened to my mom.

She might not have been the best mother, but she gave me life.

I need to know if she's safe.

And if she's not, i need to know what happened to her.

This world is so fucked. No one even cares.

Too much crime for the local cops to be concerned with woman disappearance.

I guess it doesn't help that she was homeless. And they probably think she hitchhiked out of town.

Which i see happening.

I just need to know where she is.

And i can't find out, if i'm on drugs.

Thats why i ran away this past summer.

I needed to leave Zee. I needed to leave my stagnant life.

Detach myself, evaluate, and come back wiser.

And even though i don't feel like i'm wiser.

I feel a little less hopeless. And a little more confident.

And thats a decent start.

I already talked about what i did in the summer in another journal. I'm not going there. Don't do it Caleb. I know you like to ramble.

I need to end this.

My three grateful thoughts:

One, I'm thankful for Marko and my second mom.

Two, I'm thankful for my sobriety.

Three, I'm thankful for this country.

Goodnight Dad.

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