... stained with coffee, beer and what very well might be small spatters of blood.

Most of the older entries are nearly-illegible, the author either drunk or delirious, and many are either soaked through with what you hope is water, or ripped out entirely. However, the more recent ones are still partly readable.

1/15/11

Fuck me. How'd it come to this again? In how many states am I going to fuck up before I run out of 'em? There's at least three more years on that fraud conviction back home, let alone if they nail me on the auto theft. And if what I heard at the wedding was true, then even my family's turned on me. God, going back was stupid.

But what was I going to do? Hathian was a fuckin' disaster area then, plus there were those police cruisers we'd smashed, and the fire engine. At least by going back I got to see my sister again, before I had to flee the city of Boston like a fuckin' fugitive. Still can't believe they turned me in...

Ah well. I made it out.

((Several pages of aimless doodles follow))

2/21/11

Fuck. Fell asleep on the freight train, ended up not jumping before the trainyard. Security caught me, now I'm stuck in some shithole in God-knows-where, Alabama. Hopefully I can get out of town again before the police officer that booked me feels like a one-blowjob-bribe just wasn't enough.

((Several pages are missing))

2/28/11

Managed to get across the border to Mississippi before anyone started asking serious questions about what happened to that rapist cop. If I'm really fuckin' lucky (though why should it start now?) they won't find his ass in that bog till the next fuckin' Ice Age.

3/2/11

I'm so fucked. The rapist made the news.

3/16/11

Looks like I'm in Louisiana. Again. Fuck. At least I know where I can try and find work.