Journal:Zero Whipple
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Cover
The utilitarian-looking cover and layout of inside pages suggests a business's daily log rather than a journal.
The inside front cover reads: Property of Wadham Library. Contents protected by business confidentiality. Readers without explicit permission from the council of Malton may be charged to a maximum of 2000 pounds.
April 9, 2006
Finally days of studying have worn off. If I can amalgamate the facts I read I should be able to improve the lasting power of my spraycans. I'm not sure by what amount, but it will definitely create a noticible effect. The real challenge was figuring out a way to do it easily, without affecting the flow of my painting. There's nothing quite so liberating as just letting loose and creating without concern for the paint I'm wasting.
Normally I would assume this journal is for myself and myself only and would not bother giving an introduction, but given the present circumstances it is entirely possible this diary may fall into the wrong hands. If you are reading this than this is obviously the case. I would prefer that you had left it with my body, but I suppose I can't stop you now.
My name is Traci Calszeroti Whipple, but I should become more well known by my tag - Zero. A little cheesy, I suppose, but I draw it from my name and I quite like the shape it forms. I intend to paint this town red, very nearly literally. I am seventeen years old and, if I may say so, quite a skilled artist. Paints are my specialty, and I had my choice of a number of fully paid scholarships even before the school year was half over. Not that it particularly mattered; all I want is to create. I want to form and shape and express the barest insides of my psyche through my art.
And I see nothing more in this event, of the rising of the dead, than an opportunity to finally do that. No laws, and no limits; I can create the greatest of pieces on the sides of towers for the entirety of the town to see.
Today I have learned the means. All I need now is some spraypaint, and an aerosol-blossomed rainbow will shine over Malton.
April 14, 2006
Had a bad day two days ago, couldn't even dredge up the motivation to write in this diary. I figure I can get around to telling it today.
I suppose, if you're reading this, there's something I should tell you. I'm a pacifist and a humanitarian. As such, I do not promote the current war goiong on between the breathers and the zombies. It's nothing more than a hateful genocide on both sides. The living started it, but now the atrocities are being performed on both sides. I intend, with the aid of my art, to bring both sides of the conflict around to a state of peace.
At the very least, there is no longer death, so at least that manner of wartime costs is avoided. No families are left without their members by this war, provided we do not find a way to cause permanent destruction. But that doesn't excuse the continuous cycle of violence and certainly doesn't allow us to drag ourselves out of this pointless war. Just think of what our two peoples - breathers and zombies - could accomplish in the world if we could co-operate?
In any case, the building I was sleeping in had its walls breached by zombies. Of course, they began killing. I began shouting for them to stop and arguing for peace. I've done it before, but never in a straight combat position. I think I was actually getting through to the zombies, too, but then more showed up and flatly ignored me. They killed two breathers and started on me. I had to run; I have spent time as undead before, but I cannot continue my art and I will not waste the research I have performed.
Today I have gone on a painting spree. This new technique is amazing! I am painting pictures, messages, and tags and my spraycan lasts nearly forever. I also had to spraypaint over some vandalization of a monument. I respect the rights of others to spraypaint whatever they want, but to do it on another's art is absolutely tasteless. I also tried to put a message up on Fort Creedy, but I was attacked by a zombie and had to run. At this point I'm very nearly dead. I think two bites would put me down. I don't have any first aid supplies so I can only rely on the kindness of strangers...
April 16, 2006
I heard some military helicopters flying over the building today. Why now? I don't remember that happening since back in winter sometime.
What's so special about today?
April 17, 2006
Inspiration was thin today, so I decided to take a page from one of my games and tag the fort and mall with There was a HOLE here. It's gone now.
Good times. Good times.
April 21, 2006
I finally left the bank that had been barricaded up to the ceiling. I went for Fort Creedy, where I heard groaning, but no one listened when I tried to tell them to make peace. Then they nearly killed me! I ran out and put up a bunch of sprays about not fighting, and then I tried wrote Elbereth on a bank, but my heart wasn't in it. Maybe I'll do some tagging tomorrow.
April 26, 2006
I've been on such a rampage! Portraits of random people, murals on the walls...well, murals on the inside walls of buildings, anyway. I've been doing a lot of art. Still, nothing really inspired.
I wish I could climb better. There are so many office buildings, so many wide-set brick structures...huge blank canvasses, really. Hundreds of square metres I could use for pieces. But I can use a tenth of it, if that. If I could move like some of the other survivors I see, though...or maybe I could build some sort of harness. Something similar to mountain climbing equipment. Becuase I could move like that, if I knew how. I'm fast enough, I think.
Okay. New resolution. I'm going to devise and design a way to move about the side of the buildings. Think of what I could do, then...
I've also been working on protecting the city monuments. I don't care if someone tags STREETS IS WATCHIN on a fountain or anything, but the sculptures? The abstract concrete pieces? The glass cube on the pedestal, that I love so much? People put their soul into that. It's a good thing I've learned to conserve paint, because a fair amount of it is going into the repainting of fouled masterpieces.
On a nice note, I've found a bonanza of paint in an auto repair shop. It's not the aerosol can I'm used to, but...I'm a quick learner. I've already figured out how to make use of car paint. I also found some gasoline, but I don't know what I'll do with that.
Currently camping in a hotel. I seem to be the only one inside.
Will do some poetry readings for zombies tomorrow.
(next page)
(the page is splattered with blood. There is no writing.)
May 1, 2006
Was dead for a bit, but I got better.
I don't think I can deny it any longer - there's nothing I can do to stop this war. No one so much as blinks at what I say. Oh well, it's not like there's any way it can end, anyway. There's no death anymore. It'll have to come to a peaceful point anyway; it's just going to take much longer and be much bloodier than it has to be.
Having lots of trouble in my art. I can't find any spraypaint. I'm going through a school right now, but it's for elementary kids and there's not a lot of high-quality stuff to be had. I resorted to putting a painting on the board with crappy "get this hard disk wet" paint. Awful.
Am happy at the kindness of strangers however. Had all my wounds bandaged without so much as asking!
May 4, 2006
Moved into a Necrotech building. Quite an amount of people. I would have preferred somewhere a little less bustling, but until I learn how to move about the rooftops I'm a slave to the barricades. At least it's a tower, so I've got a few floors to move around on. I'm out of paint, too, so I'm going to have to find something to deal with that.
I suppose it's good I came here. I noticed some poor girl without any clothes at all! I saw her trying to find something and offered her my sweatshirt.
May 5, 2006
I was giving poetry readings and some asshole punched me, then told me to shut up. Needless to say I'm a little peeved at that, but I suppose not everyone likes poetry. This just goes to show how violent everyone has become.
The naked girl gave me a hug, though, for the sweatshirt I gave her. She just wants to find her brother, she said. Or something like that, I'm not sure - I was a little distracted by having a pair of large naked boobies pressed against me. Why can't I put on weight like that?
I moved out to a factory. I wish I could find some spraypaint...
- LATER - The ambience of the factory was somewhat mired when everyone started dying. Moved to a school. Maybe there's some spraypaint in here...
May 9, 2006
Finally! Holed up in Dulston - about as far north-east as you can get - and I've finally managed to put together that harness I was going on about before. Now I can get up and down some of those really high walls and put some real art up. Tens of metres in height, and the like.
As for my art this far, I've been putting my works all over the east side of Malton. I also managed to figure out a manner by which I can use this harness to go from building to building, with some effort. I think I'd like to stay out on the streets when I can, though. I can't let myself lose touch with the people outside.
May 21, 2006
I visited the zoo, but I didn't have time to stay for very long. It's a dear shame... oh well. I managed to spot a parrot and a sea lion, but not much else. Maybe I'll spot some more tomorrow.
I've been falling behind on my poetry readings as well. And my graffiti...well, I'm still doing that. I'm not doing the huge pieces I was hoping for with my harness, however. That will have to be changed.
June 19, 2006
All right!
Did some poetry readings, and a few paintings. I've been held back the last few weeks because of one of my depressive periods. They're always so bad for my art. Shame I don't have the meds anymore, but I'm not carrying my plaster knife either so it all balances out.
Stopped in at the Aquarium again. They've got new peeps in. It's nice!
(next page)
Bloody smears cover the page, and a single red fingerprint. There is no date.
(bloody page)
Words in a childish scrawl cover the page in crooked lines. It is written in red, most likely blood.
Boobies appear to come in many different guises.
So many different shapes,
So many different sizes...
Some are squishy, some are firm,
Some are perky, some are drooped.
Some so small, they're barely there.
Some so big, they make her stoop.
A little tissue, a lot of fat,
But never any bone.
And I would be
surprised to see
Any muscle tone.
They've one and all
A siren call
And not just for the boys.
For how could anyone resist
Such lovely, lovely toys?
I guess other girls have their own
Just ahead their nose,
But since my babes
Are double-A's
My cur'osity grows.
July 1, 2006
Got revived. Very tired, will write and do more tomorrow.
I don't remember writing that on the previous page. Looks like my kind of poetry, but...
Later - I figure it should be around midnight back across the pond. I bet Tedd and Stacey are up watching the fireworks right now. I bet the rest of the world has forgotten about us...well...a happy Canada Day to me.
July 15
Have been putting up paintings where people are likely to see them - police stations mostly - but am becoming discouraged in what effect I am having. I want to affect people, but the minds of the people seem impervious to my efforts.
I have been telling that poem of mine as well, but I don't get comments. I don't get anything anymore.
Think I am in a depressive state. Am very discouraged at any rate. Want my meds.
Want to be zombie again.
DISMEMBER 6
BEIND DEAD SUKS
TREE SIGS O SEVNE
MPD GOT HITMAN TO KLIL ME
GRAAH SO ANGY
MAY BE DRIVEN TO CIVIL DISOBEDYENS
