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Journal Entry Date: Fragging Today.
Well dear fragging journal, I never thought I would have to make another one of you.
Don't why it took so fragging long to sink in that we're not leaving this mudball anytime soon, we're all stuck on this fragging mudball for the foreseeable future.
Oh, and I did I fragging mention we were in a coma for four million cycles? The hits just keep coming!
Yeah, lots of fragging insult to injury.
To keep myself from completely spiraling, I will keep a journal of reasons to existing.
(For I sure don't consider what we have here on this mudball any sort of "life")
(I wish I could remember the therapist who taught me all this, because I owe him so much. All I can remember that his name began with an "R".
And I think his office was full of model ships. His nerdy habit made me feel oddly safe, for everybody knows that model ships collectors are list threatening creations across the universe!)
Okay, enough fragging meandering, here the first fragging reason:
I don't want to be buried here.
(As you can see, I decided to keep my standards very low for the first entry)
I don't know if I will survive long enough to see another sunrise or sunset on Cybertron. But I am going to try to keep functioning at least I know that somebot will be able transport my rusty frame back to Cybertron for burial.
Or at least one those spaceship cemeteries that float in the cold indifferent beauty of space.
P.S. I just remembered the possible upside of being in a four million year coma:
My creators those hateful abusive scummy fraggers scam/cult/abuse factory has probably been permanently shut down.
They even might even be in prison or maybe even dead!
Please Primus, let there be this small mercy.