The Last Man On - Planet Earth

Still here. Still breathing. Just a man on a big, green, silent rock.

Should I focus the next post on a you're facing, or perhaps a discovery you made while scavenging the ruins? The Last Man on Planet Earth

It’s been months since I heard another human voice, and sometimes I catch myself talking to the mannequins in the shop windows just to keep my vocal cords from rustling like dry leaves. The silence isn't like the quiet of a Sunday morning—it’s heavy. It’s the sound of the world exhaling and never breathing back in. Still here

I woke up today and realized I’ve stopped looking at my watch. Time doesn’t really belong to anyone anymore; it’s just the sun moving across the floor of this empty library. Should I focus the next post on a

Being the last one isn't about the loneliness—you get used to that. It’s the weight of being the only witness. If a tree falls in the forest and I’m the only one left to hear it, I guess I’m the only one who gets to decide if it made a sound.