My days disappear like sinking ships. It's past midnight and I should be tired right now. For the record, it's been a long day. But here every day seems to last forever. The days wear me down. And then there's always tomorrow.
I can't sleep and in my head my life plays back and forth. But this is a world without time. Without clocks and schedules. And days, they just disappear. Suddenly a year goes by. You do what's necessary. This is surviving, surviving isn't living. Not really.
There's a lot I don't really remember anymore. No matter how much I've tried, some things are lost. That's why I want to put it all down. So I'd remember things exactly the way they really happened.
Next week it's my birthday. Maybe that's what's keeping me up. I'm turning 25. In a way. I lie about my birth year because I don't look like I'm forty just yet.
First you start forgetting the details. Stupid little things that didn't even matter. But day after day, week after week… Add a couple of years and you just… forget. Simple as that.
When I was a kid, this was way before the Judgment Day, I was camping with my mother. Except it wasn't really camping but I didn't know that. I was just a sorry little kid who thought it was a funny game. Just like my mom had said. Just a game. This is one of my earliest memories. Well mom, it's not a game anymore.
It's frustrating sometimes. No matter how hard you try, everything eventually gets lost and tangled. Memory is like that. Life is like that. Everything slowly fades away. And I guess it's okay. Your head couldn't keep everything in anyways.
Maybe I'm just realizing I'm getting older. I've been here for almost nine years. I keep asking myself, what the hell happened? We were supposed to stop the Judgment Day. Why am I here?
That's a stupid question. I don't know about destiny and I couldn't really care less about God, but somehow I ended up here, again. It's depressing to think that nothing we tried to do mattered. That this is the way the world rolls. On and on we go. That everyone that died for a better future, that died for me, died for nothing. I won't have that.
I wish I could say I remember mom exactly the way she was. That when I close my eyes I can see her face like she was standing right in front of me. Because I don't. When I close my eyes all I can do is try to focus on the details that are already gone. I remember that I loved her. And maybe that's enough.
In my head it's very quiet, but outside my bunker this place never sleeps. Here we eat and live in shifts. Some are awake when others sleep. We look after each other. We have to stick together to survive. The same place, the same people, day after day after day. But you'll make the best of it. But it's nights like these when it hits you the hardest – it can be lonely to be me.
I take the pen, but I have no idea what to write. It has been a very long time and so much has happened. I don't know where to begin. So I might just start where I am right now.
My name is John Connor, it's 19th of February and next week, I'll turn twenty-five.
