To human kind,
Hello, whoever might be reading this. I am gravely saddened and somewhat embarrassed to announce it has come to my attention as of 5:15 p.m. on Sunday, 22 May 2011, that I am truly the last living man in all London.
Ok, to be fair, it has taken me a while into the day to notice this. I slept in through the better portion of the morning. When I finally rolled out over to Tesco's by 11 a.m., I was unsurprised to find they were not open. Sunday mornings are notorious for this. In the two-minute walk home I took little attention to the fact that it was all a bit unusually quiet. Sundays are also notorious for being usually a bit unusually quiet. I went home, had some toast and got in bed again. (don't ask me what I do for a living). My inquisition was raised by about 4PM, from whereupon there is normally an amateur violin practice in the Cantonese church downstairs lasting the remainder of the afternoon (I will note, that this is a God, bloody awful condition of living). When no such disturbance was raised I decided to go to the games room for a match of table tennis. There were no occupants in attendance. On more adventurous survey I observed that, like the table tennis room, the streets were bereft of human life. Automobiles lined the curb, abandoned by their pilots. Not a dog barking nor child screaming nor siren wailing broke the vacuum. It was all very "28 days later." My big clue came when I intercepted a copy of yesterday's Standard, animated by the wind as it danced along the pavement, one of a scant few moving things. A breif snippet on page six alluded to the possibility that large portions of the population would be inexplicably scourged from the earth in 24 hours coming.
I am the only living person remaining in London. It is the epitome of isolation. Nevertheless, London is a fantastic place to live and attend university.
After my initial quandary of futility and despair, I am coming to find this situation to have been only a minorly disruptive inconvenience. From a certain perspective, I'm not sure this could ever have come along at a more opportune time. Now I am liberated to fall into singing along with my iPod on the tube (assuming they're still operational) without feeling insecure or worrying about judgements of fellow passengers, of the certainty that I must be a junkie. I can try queuing up for customer service at Primark to return the knitted boxers I bought on an erratic impulse last week, when under others conditions I would never have thought it possible. The place is a zoo, and I just couldn't be bothered for it over six quid. After that I think I'll go take advantage of some architectural photography, now that I can be spared the worry of having a constant stream of ignorant, bumbling idiots staggering into every shot. The radio has stopped putting out terrible new pop chart music, but in reality everything worth listening to was recorded over a decade ago anyway. Lately customer service throughout the city has been phased back so extensively that I've already had to adjust to using the self-service checkout, so long as I can adjust to the absence of stoic, serious looking Londoners zipping about on the streets on their singular trajectories as they ignore the rest of the universe in order to perpetuate a pretentious edifice of impenetrable self-importance, I think I will be able to continue the course of my life without any major disturbance.
I suppose I am only writing this in order to discern whether there are others experiencing this phenomenon abroad, or I am indeed the only living legacy of humankind. Much love to friends and family abroad. Take care of yourselves, and brace yourself for any sudden disappearances.
Best of Love,
E.J Const.
(a somewhat-baffled last man in london/the observable world.)
PS: The lesson to be learned here: I am not by habit a major news consumer. I will grab a spare copy of the Evening Standard when it's not too out of the way, but for the most part I am easily contented with more eclectic interests. When the world received prophecy that the generational progress of all civilisation as we know was coming to a close, I didn't. Now, it has finally come to my attention that there are no surviving humans, anywhere, in sight. Ever.
TO READ MORE, go to http://raptureblog.weebly.com. Regular Photos, Journal, updates & more!!..not particularly more, but it's a blog. With a journal. And a questions sections. ALSO follow on TWITTERhttp://www.twitter.com/rememberrapture.
Hello, whoever might be reading this. I am gravely saddened and somewhat embarrassed to announce it has come to my attention as of 5:15 p.m. on Sunday, 22 May 2011, that I am truly the last living man in all London.
Ok, to be fair, it has taken me a while into the day to notice this. I slept in through the better portion of the morning. When I finally rolled out over to Tesco's by 11 a.m., I was unsurprised to find they were not open. Sunday mornings are notorious for this. In the two-minute walk home I took little attention to the fact that it was all a bit unusually quiet. Sundays are also notorious for being usually a bit unusually quiet. I went home, had some toast and got in bed again. (don't ask me what I do for a living). My inquisition was raised by about 4PM, from whereupon there is normally an amateur violin practice in the Cantonese church downstairs lasting the remainder of the afternoon (I will note, that this is a God, bloody awful condition of living). When no such disturbance was raised I decided to go to the games room for a match of table tennis. There were no occupants in attendance. On more adventurous survey I observed that, like the table tennis room, the streets were bereft of human life. Automobiles lined the curb, abandoned by their pilots. Not a dog barking nor child screaming nor siren wailing broke the vacuum. It was all very "28 days later." My big clue came when I intercepted a copy of yesterday's Standard, animated by the wind as it danced along the pavement, one of a scant few moving things. A breif snippet on page six alluded to the possibility that large portions of the population would be inexplicably scourged from the earth in 24 hours coming.
I am the only living person remaining in London. It is the epitome of isolation. Nevertheless, London is a fantastic place to live and attend university.
After my initial quandary of futility and despair, I am coming to find this situation to have been only a minorly disruptive inconvenience. From a certain perspective, I'm not sure this could ever have come along at a more opportune time. Now I am liberated to fall into singing along with my iPod on the tube (assuming they're still operational) without feeling insecure or worrying about judgements of fellow passengers, of the certainty that I must be a junkie. I can try queuing up for customer service at Primark to return the knitted boxers I bought on an erratic impulse last week, when under others conditions I would never have thought it possible. The place is a zoo, and I just couldn't be bothered for it over six quid. After that I think I'll go take advantage of some architectural photography, now that I can be spared the worry of having a constant stream of ignorant, bumbling idiots staggering into every shot. The radio has stopped putting out terrible new pop chart music, but in reality everything worth listening to was recorded over a decade ago anyway. Lately customer service throughout the city has been phased back so extensively that I've already had to adjust to using the self-service checkout, so long as I can adjust to the absence of stoic, serious looking Londoners zipping about on the streets on their singular trajectories as they ignore the rest of the universe in order to perpetuate a pretentious edifice of impenetrable self-importance, I think I will be able to continue the course of my life without any major disturbance.
I suppose I am only writing this in order to discern whether there are others experiencing this phenomenon abroad, or I am indeed the only living legacy of humankind. Much love to friends and family abroad. Take care of yourselves, and brace yourself for any sudden disappearances.
Best of Love,
E.J Const.
(a somewhat-baffled last man in london/the observable world.)
PS: The lesson to be learned here: I am not by habit a major news consumer. I will grab a spare copy of the Evening Standard when it's not too out of the way, but for the most part I am easily contented with more eclectic interests. When the world received prophecy that the generational progress of all civilisation as we know was coming to a close, I didn't. Now, it has finally come to my attention that there are no surviving humans, anywhere, in sight. Ever.
TO READ MORE, go to http://raptureblog.weebly.com. Regular Photos, Journal, updates & more!!..not particularly more, but it's a blog. With a journal. And a questions sections. ALSO follow on TWITTERhttp://www.twitter.com/rememberrapture.