Enero 7th, 20XX

My father once told me that there was a time in our home where the sky is blue, the birds flying freely in the clouds with no care in the world, and the children walking on the streets with cheerful smiles on their faces... waving their hands around in greeting to the elderly who would gossip around the latest news about their next-door neighbor. He told me to live the best I can without a clenched fist for my own survival, where I must not hurt anyone for my own life. The more I thought about it, the more I likely make myself think that it is all forgotten now in this day and age of flesh and metal. The smoke of burning skin and rotten bones waft through my nostrils as I watch closely at the burning pile of bodies while writing this blog, I've been told to keep watch in case that they move again like last time... the casualty from it can be devastating than the usual attacks we garnered through eight days of our clearing operation. Watch, wait, repeat... until the fire turn them all to ashes if father saw me like this... he would call me a murderer.

I am not sorry for who I have become, I did not choose this for desire... for I know that if I don't do something for myself then I would not get this far living out in this wretched forgotten world than father. Living is not as easy as it used to be without someone looking after me.

After all, does this place gave a merciful glance to those who are deemed filthy in their eyes? I guess not, that is why I am here.

- Arturo Magbanua, 20:04:32