So, as you can tell, I made it out of my house alive (that or I write from the other side but it is unlikely since I have heard that the internet over there is really lousy). It was kind of hard since he suspected it (I guess) and went for me before I could make it out of town, maybe he didn’t want another person to get on the run. My first pit stop that isn’t a cpffehouse along the highway is Reading, Berkshire. How is it, you may ask, well I am glad to tell you that it is really warm, adults relax in the park, young people has parties in a yachts on the Thames and a pale thin man enjoys a killing spree somewhere in the city. YAY! It is the perfect summer! Uu-ooo uu-oo Autos, moda y rock and roll!!!! uu-ooo uu-oo, luces, ritmo y diversión!!!! Ok… I probably should stop quoting old songs by fandango (a music band from Mexico, pupular back in the 80’s).
Getting serious (and depressing) I really managed to get out alive, I stopped in the highway to pay a couple of pounds in a restaurant for the owner to let me sleep there half an hour or to buy some coffee beans so I can endure more without sleep (I can’t take the time to drink 17 cups of coffee, which is what I used to drink to stay awake) I probably will stand 3 or 4 days before I need a rest. He is really fast, a few times when I was going to get down of my bike in a coffeehouse he was already there, waiting. I need to watch out. Oh, by the way, you may excuse fron now on my constant typos, since I lost my reading glasses in the escape.
I guess I should tell you what my supplies are; I took with me my bike, an iPod to detect him when near and to write in the blog, a magic charger, almost £ 2500 so I guess I will live for a long time although… with the bloody high prices of petrol who knows… damn, I guess you and I can agree that the least of my problems is the price of combustible. I brought 2 Beretta M9 pistols, 14 magazines, an SA80 L85A2 with 5 magazines and last but not least my European sword. I know, I came armed to the teeth but… it makes me feel a little safer. I also brought a photo of my beautiful wife and a retractile umbrella (I mean, is bloody England, without that shit you couldn’t stand a day out therew)
Where should I go next? That’s the hardest of questions becausr it brings many more. You see mates: the fact of knowing what awaits you is the worst of curses. When I had the luxury of having a normal life I knew this little venezuelab boy named Manuel Morado Majica (nickname Kahn Uchiha) or something gay like that; he was dumb, lacked of culture, was ugly, poor, he didn’t had any talent at all, he was from a shitty country that everybody hates (except for the petrol making companies) but he was happy. Why, you may ask, simple: He was dumb as fuck; he wasn’t able to see that he will end as a hobo asking for a dime in a crossroad because he was so stupid, and that is a blessing. For that same reason, he wasn’t able to see beyond his little shitty world, he considered the bloke who got a 100 in the shitty Venezuelan education system an intelligent person, a smart person, but in the real world, in the first world, he isn’t prepared at all for what the world asks him to know, to be, to be able to do. He believed that, from one day to another, I stopped thinking that he was retarded and wanted to make friends with him, what a fool. As I was saying: the ability to ignore the big picture is a total blessing; that kid won’t realize that he will end up as a hobo untikl he becomes one; that must be amazing. Like the people that is unaware of who slenderman is until the very end: they never stop for a second to think “What if he gets me? What in the world will he do to me? And that must be a much better way to die than the one that we, the runners, the survivors, end up getting. . We die in fear of what will come next, we don’t even know if we will die or if we will be kept prisoners in some weird outer world we don’t understand, or if we will become one ofg his kind.
After my total ramble, I guess I should escape until I find out a way to fight him. Maybe I will go to the southwest or just south… I don’t know, I feel like I must go south for some reason. You know, I would love to stick around and talk but the Union Jack is starting to go down and I feel less safe in the darkness so maybe I will start to draw operator symbols near me and wait until tomorrow for my next move. I haven’t seen him over here at Reading but I am mostlyu sure that he will eventually come for me. Now that I think about it... he is scarier when he is not around that when he is, is more terrifying to wait for him to appear... actually, that is bullshit, everything is scary when he is following you: when he is there, when he is not, when you walk pass some trees... etc. Etc. You know, when I find myself rambling like that I realize how much he has messed up my mind in so little time. See you soon... hopefully.
Any help or data you can provide will be appreciated.