Diary of an Unimportant Citizen

[Lost Coast Chanties]

Hello, my Diary. Finally I have braved myself to put some ink on your sandy paper I would have put a date here, but I can’t remember what day or month it actually is. Does it matter? I suppose it doesn’t - I have stopped noticing days going by a long while ago. I can’t even recall when I first relocated here.

I thought it’d be different when I arrived from the last City. Or maybe I didn’t, but just wanted some comfort. It’s meant to keep you isolated from others, but The people here are the same as the last place. Men and women, most with tired faces, denim coveralls. No old people. I have to live with a very strange bunch in the block. I just pray that they keep it quiet when I try to sleep, but I always hear stomping and creaky floors at night.

Everything in this place is creaky. I can feel the cracks of the pavement through my shoes. Electric lights keep buzzing and sometimes it gives me a headache. The hinges of the doors sound like animal screams. It’s enough to drive anyone mad, but I’ve gotten used to it. It’s been too long. It’s just part of life.

It used to be different. It’s all the same, each day. I awake from the announcement outside, and lie there on the bare mattress, wanting nothing more than to simply go back to sleep. I keep thinking that I earned myself at least one day of rest. But then I wonder what’ll happen if this block gets scheduled for a search. I heard stories of CPs throwing sleeping citizens out of windows. I already sleep with my clothes on, just like everybody else, but the thought of being caught off-guard is unpleasant to think about.

So eventually, I get up. I waddle my way to the sink and splash some cold water on my face. Then I come around to the kitchen to drink whatever is left in the kettle. Sometimes, I look out of the window when I do it, but every other time, I just stare at the table, or the floor. Very rarely, I look at the door, just to check that it’s still on the hinges. I keep thinking that one day, I’ll wake up to find it gone. I can’t stand seeing empty door frames, or even just open doors. It always feels so wrong to me.

After eating something out of the fridge, if there is anything left, it’s off to a day of wandering the street. I wait for a workshift to start, and when it does, I go to it. When it doesn’t, I keep wandering, because I know there’s less of a chance of me getting stopped by CPs. like everybody else. Sometimes I sit on the bench and watch other people wander. They never notice me, minding their business like they do. I keep thinking someday someone will sit right next to me and start a conversation, but it never happens, and I think I’d like to keep it that way. It all just feels forced, all the time.

When the sun starts setting, I make my way back to the apartment block. I navigate the stairs to my floor number and slowly enter my room. Sometimes I’m afraid someone will be waiting there for me. I put whatever I bought during the day into the fridge and boil some tap water. Usually I just stand by the stove and watch the kettle. Afterwards, I take a seat in the kitchen, again, and wonder what I’ve been doing for the past fifteen years.

It never ends in anything worthwhile. It’s a good way to waste time, however. I always try not to go to sleep too early, because then I would have to listen to my neighbors making all sorts of noise. But the moment I finally go to sleep is the only time I’m genuinely happy. I know it’s all going to get ripped away tomorrow morning, but I’m still happy, because for once,

I feel free.​

 

[Cocohop]

So much character in so few lines, well done.

 

[ClapTrap]

You guys have stoves?? We're still using the radiators to heat our food!

Great piece of writing, as always.

 

[Eski]

galalung i drink dirt watr

 

[George]

We're still using the radiators to heat our food!