Timothy Alan - Shia's Log: Day 8 lyrics

Day 8. October 30, 2012. 9:38 pm. Happy one week zombie invasion survival anniversary. I would suggest going outside to celebrate, maybe grab a bite to eat and a movie, but, you know, with the zombies outside devouring anything that moves and New York being mostly deserted, I don't think that'd be very appropriate. At least we wouldn't have to wait in any long lines just because we didn't have a reservation to the restaurant. But I don't think the food would be the greatest, and the waiters probably wouldn't have the best manners. “Would you like more tea, sir? No? Well, I'll get your check and be right back. If it's not too much to ask, sir, instead of a tip, can I have a nibble at your brain?” He had a British accent, don't ask me why. I think he was Alfred from Batman. I know this isn't Gotham City, Bruce Wayne, but if you can spare one of those nifty gadgets for us to throw at the zombies outside, it'd be much appreciated. Dana is starting to become team-sick. I don't blame her for missing them. She talks so highly about them that I'm starting to miss them a little and I haven't even met them before. My mind has a lot more time to wander these days, and I can't help but think that it'd be interesting to join forces with them. With their knowledge of the Thy-Trips and my… Shia-ness, we'd make a great team. Then again, traveling in giant packs does pose more of a threat to us, being so noticeable and whatnot. It was just a thought. I'm entitled to those, aren't I? It makes me feel a little depressed that I don't have much to offer. But I protect my little brother, and I'm sure he thinks I'm awesome for that. Otherwise, I'm not much use. I'm not much of a fighter. I took a few karate cla**es as a kid, but some student in my cla** named Jong kicked me in the ribs while we were sparring and I cried and quit. He had some serious leg strength for a kid, I'll tell ya that. I don't have any weapons, though sometimes I wish I did. I understand why people feel safer with a gun or a knife on them. It is a sort of comforting feeling to know that if anything major happens, your weapon of choice has dominance over your fear. I don't exactly condone walking around with a pistol in your bookbag wherever you go, especially using it recklessly and taking away another person's life, but a handgun seems very appealing right now. I could sleep that much sounder for sure. We had a bit of a shaky dispute earlier today. One of the cans of beans went missing, and feelings were hurt and fingers were pointed. I tried to handle it as patiently as I could, but to think that either of them would have the nerve to think that I did it was a little stressful, I admit. Elliot immediately took Dana's side, which hurt… a lot. I risked my life to go and get the food in the first place, and this is the thanks I get for it. It's alright, though. No harm, no foul. But if someone is stashing away food, it'll come to light eventually. I really hope it isn't my brother, but yet, I really hope it isn't Dana either. That would mean she isn't perfect… and I let a thief into our camp. Let the suspicion continue, Shia.