Entry 3 of a Z.A. Survivor

October 15th 2019, I kinda miss the farm already. Thought about taking a chicken with me to keep me company, I'd have named it Krispy. Not too far from the farm a few miles away in the woods I found what seemed to have been remains of a hunter. I'm not sure if he'd been a victim of an animal attack or the slight chance of undead roaming this area it was too hard to tell. But I am on guard now, I have my rifle loaded and ready for battle if needed. I wonder how zombies see? If their bodies are technically dead but mind is alive to a point where they are able to move around, how does their eyes work? I mean you have to be alive to produce tears so your eyes don't dry out, wouldn't zombie eyes be near crispified after a time? Ah who knows how a zombie really works. I wouldn't recommend asking one personally. 
I think for the most part I am going to head north, and try to stay away from heavily populated areas of whatever. There's gotta be a safe haven of some sort somewhere. I can't live my life alone forever. I don't want to be alone, the lack of human contact is depressing. I miss talking to people on a daily basis. Hell, I'd even take someone that would argue all the time, at least it's something..someone. What would Edgar Allen Poe write in a time like this? Where death is life, and life is a dinner plate for those around. Probably something like the raven, but with it representing humanity. And annoyingly tapping at that damned window. I once knew this girl many years ago that loved poetry..would write to her all the time. Then she broke my h eart. Oh well, probably zombie chow now. "Do I look fat in these pants?" she says, "NOM NOM NOM" goes the zombie who doesn't care. Yep that's how it would go. Sorry to cut short, I think I hear something. Till