I am pissed. That’s what this journal is for right? Writing down feelings? Writing them out plain?

Well I can’t say it any plainer than that.

I. Am. Pissed.

Yesterday I got yet another example of this town being stubborn and not wanting to band together. Just wanting to sit back and bitch, or expect miracles of a group that is struggling. A man that is struggling.

I am struggling. There. I said it … er … wrote it. This position is hard. There’s so little to work with and so damn much to work against. Seems like every day is an uphill battle and I spend most of my time sliding back down on my ass. And what do I get for it? I get molotovs thrown at me and get laughed at on top of it.

….

You know what .. I don’t feel better. Writing … I don’t feel pissed any more perhaps …. but I wonder if that was it in the first place.

These people .. the people in this town. The ones trying to make a place for themselves after all of the shit they’ve been through … who can really blame them for bothering to look to others for security. We’ve been alone so long, relying on our select few .. that we’re afraid, or have lost the realization that now we Can band together. That we Need to band together.

I don’t blame David .. or the dollhouse. Yeah .. they piss me the fuck off sometimes .. but I don’t think it’s what they’ve said that got under my skin.

I think .. to be brutally honest .. the reason that it got under my skin is that it’s true.

I’m not doing enough .. people are still getting hurt and no matter how many hours I spend patrolling this damned island it keeps happening. I have to keep trying .. do more .. be better ….. Somehow.

You know what. I don’t think I am pissed. Never was.

I think .. deep down .. I’m afraid that even me laying my life on the line wont be enough. The town is not going to work together, people are not going to step up to help, and people are going to keep dying. No matter what I do.

I am not pissed.

I am afraid.