Random journal (2)

As it seems, I'm doomed to be hit by my past. Even here, one of the last hideouts I should have, for it is one of the few places without memories painted on its walls. I know of the taint that lies everywhere else. I know what memories are recorded in every inch of land I have walked. And I can't get rid of that, I can never simply walk away. I thought I was safe there. Ireally did. It was a brand new world, after all. But reality - always that bitch - decided to play games on me again. Oh well. As it seems, the last place I have free of visions and ghosts is a small, dark pub in a forgotten alley. It's not too bad. At least there the whisky is good, and there is always someone to talk to even if I go there on my own. I guess the only trouble is the way to get there, deep into contested land. But that cannot be avoided; I have to walk with my hands on the trigger, until I can finally vanish to some place where I can walk freely without ever looking back.

Note: And god knows how I miss that pub. Now that it is closed - or rather, now that it changed management - it really feels pointless to go out alone at night.