Jan 01 (1)

DAY #323

HAPPINESS? Oh, no Murray, you see... You just don't DESERVE happiness...
I thought I had done 'quite well'. OK, I'll admit, 'quite well' has never really enflamed a passionate desire in anyone, but THIS FUCKING SOON?
Dear lord... This is hilarious in a dark, dark, makesmewanttokillmyself way. Fuck the zombies. Fuck survival. Fuck everything.
Erm, yeah, to be fair, I'm not very good at conversations. I'm terrible at flirting. I'm shit with strangers. I'm hopeless with girls.
Although, I had hoped that this time I stood a chance. I thought all the clues were there. I was lonely, she was lonely...
Death, could you just fucking hurry up now please.
Everything was meant to tending towards a happy ending. DAY #365 would read: "Yeah! I finally got a girlfriend! I'm somebody!"
Not anymore. All options exhausted. I don't fucking know any other girls. All the others are dead. I could just FUCK CORPSES.
Damn it all to hell. I know, I know... Alright! I know! Stop fucking laughing! I know it's my fault for getting my hopes up!
Although the knowledge that it's a fundamental problem with me doesn't make it hurt any less... Moreso, if anything.
God must seriously be pissing all over my life if he exists. HE CAN'T FUCKING EXIST. I'm just like this, born ruined.
Aha! Is this it? Is this the turning point? Have I stumbled upon a relationship status that FINALLY drives me to drink?
Is this really how it ends? Am I going to solve all my social problems with alcohol, or just give up on love completely?
NO. IT WAS NEVER EVEN GOING TO BE LOVE. IT WAS GOING TO BE INFATUATION. I CANNOT LOVE.
Seriously... Since the first post of this blog, I've gone from having one possible girlfriend, to two, then to the other one, and now none.
Unsurprising fact: I started this blog because I thought it might make me a more interesting human being forwardslash cooler boyfriend.
Right, where was I... Ah yes... The debate as to whether I should take a personality-changing drug or just die alone.
Perhaps both? Still an option... I mean, even if being drunk means I can talk to girls, they might still hate me and everything I stand for.
Reasonable to assume that out of the 5% of females left, only another 0.5% of them would like ME, and 100% of them are in Japan.
I'm sorry, veryfewpeoplewhoactuallystillreadthisforthezombieapocalypseparts... I'm very depressed this evening. It's a no.
Shit, you know... I haven't done a long blog in a while, and I was building up to doing one... But now, I'm just going to keep typing.
Eventually I'll run out of things to say, but what you've been reading so far has been a pure stream of my conciousness.
SO YEAH, LIFE... WHAT THE FUCK? Do you REWARD me for being a TOTAL FUCKING IDIOT or what?
Um, I'm soory sir, you must be at least this drunk/muscular/outgoing to get a girlfriend... Please leave loyalty and kindness at the door.
Really strange that just as soon as I plunge into a low state having been reminded I still have HER card, the other HER does that.
Possibly it was a co-ordinated attack set up by Miss Fortune and C.O Incidence...
Really Murray? Are you really this upset? You would have ruined two lives already if things had gone 'to plan'.
I'm fucking pathetic. A horny twelve year old twenty year old pretending he stands a chance with the grown ups. PA...THE...TIC.
So yeah, like I mentioned earlier. That's Meerkat I've scared off, Juliet I've failed to romance, and then NOBODY ELSE.
Every other girl is either terrifying, already taken or undead. What can I do? I COULD JUST GIVE UP ON FINDING HAPPINESS.
Remember the old saying, ignorance is bliss? Well when it comes to l-o-v-e, I could hardly be more ignorant.
Essentially, I could go out of my way to never ever fall in love, never even consider the possibility I have the capability to love.
That could work. Give myself a love lobotomy... Infatuation extraction... Romance removal...
And then my purpose would be simple. Forget 'having children'. Fuck 'finding happiness'. I'll just see how long I can survive for.
Right... Are we all in agreement? Murray, survivor number 021191, resigns himself to a sad, pitiful existance until he dies?
DHUM! The hammer's gone down, I'm afraid. No backsies. I'm not even going to try to stop my dying alone anymore... I promise.
REMAIN INDOORS