War Journal, Final Entry.

rabbit

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War Journal, Final Entry.

Eliza and I are on a train heading to America. We've made plans, something about making a home down south, actually sitting our armor down. I think I'll help create a city, form an army, build a militia, and finally set my roots down. No more forward fighting if I can help it. I've done my time as the forward assaulter. I need to think about being a man again. This girl's a solid one, I think. Sure, it took a few times, but this damn freedom will make it easier for me to just be who I want to be.

It's said that it's easier to be a Warrior in a Garden than a Gardener in a War. But seeing how easily people go from savage cavemen to civilized people has made me wonder if there is an advantage to the latter. I am that warrior but that is all I know. Gardening, metaphorically because I'm a fucking savage at growing shit, has be one of the most difficult things I will learn to pick up.

I don't need this War Journal anymore. If you're reading this, my name is Joseph Aguilar.

Put my shit back. Or I'll fucking kill you and bury you with the rest.


𝓙𝓸𝓮𝔂 𝓐𝓰𝓾𝓲𝓵𝓪𝓻

P.S. If you found this in Joesephville, I won't kill you but put it back in the case, you dickhead.