entry one

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From the moment we're born, we're destined to die. This is a finality, the finality for anything that breathes, and yet people drain themselves finding ways to evade death.

But here's the biggest truism you'll ever hear: you will die. Whether that be at thirty-eight from an inattentive driver or at sixty-eight from an unexpected heart attack, it will happen. All of that unnecessary resentment and frustration is pure vanity.

We cannot stand the idea of the world continuing — as it had millions of years before and as it will millions of years later — when we're not around. We live in fear of not leaving a mark, of not having someone to carry our name, of not having people to mourn over us as our body begins to decompose in a hard oak casket.

This is my mark, Ford, my one selfish leftover from my life: a dusty, moleskin journal.

Keep it. Keep it close, read it, and let me live on after my death — I am human after all.



dedicated to elisa beautyatwork who is simply incredible

a/n: hiiiii super sorry for the long wait, but i'll make it up to you guys (hopefully) by posting the second chapter of this novel tomorrow. any predictions for what might happen in the story? (I hope to make it a full length novel, operative word being hope)

also, just to clear things up, THIS IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE A LEGITIMATE STORY CHAPTER. The story will alternate between entries from Kira's journal (which will be shorter just like this one or as long as regular chapters) and Ford's life.

much love (and luck for everyone approaching finals),


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