Weekend diary of a man gone mad

Last weekend I’ve gone through an ordeal that most men secretly dread all their lives. The ultimate right of passage, only survivable by a chosen few.  It has pushed the boundaries of my physical and mental being. It almost broke me.

By now you have probably guessed what ordeal I’m talking about…

That’s right: I’ve spent the weekend alone, without my girlfriend. She travelled to see a friend in another part of Denmark. I was left to my own devices.

Now, before you shriek in astonishment and wonder at how I braved this calamity with such grace, know this: it wasn’t pretty! I did not stoically suffer in silence through my misery. No, I barely pulled through without permanently losing my sanity.

Thankfully, I’ve kept a diary. Its primary purpose was to keep me occupied and prevent me from losing grip on reality. Secondary purpose was to document what could very well have been my final hours for posterity. I now present this diary to you in its unabridged form.

WARNING: Below diary contains graphic content and may cause irreparable damage to your psyche. It is not for the faint of heart. Proceed at your own risk. You have officially been warned.


Diary Of A Man Gone Mad



17:34. Back from work with a couple of friends. Guys’ night can begin. This is going to be great. Chips, drinks, pizza, PS3 games. Freedom!

20:07. Guess who’s not here to complain about how brutal Mortal Kombat is? My girlfriend! Life’s good. Freeeeeeeedooooooom!

23:53. That was fun. Should have guys over more often. Have some pizza left for tomorrow. Excellent.



00:12. OK, now just to watch a couple of funny videos on Youtube before sleep.

01:44. Maybe it’s time to sleep? OK, just a little bit more…

03:37. Watched all of Youtube. There’s no more Internet left. Time for bed.

11:38. Woke up in cold sweat. Slightly disoriented. Where am I?

11:57. Got my bearings. Am at home. Home alone. OK, don’t panic. You’ll be fine. Just read some blogs and get out of bed.

15:20. Haven’t left bed yet. Must have food. Time to check the fridge.

15:22. Disaster. All food in the fridge seems to exist in some previously unknown, apparently raw form.

15:23. Eureka. Remembered the leftover pizza!

15:24. No more leftover pizza. Still hungry.

15:40. Soooo…hungry. Will attempt to make an omelette. Saw it on TV once. Can’t be that complicated.

15:56. Burned the eggs. And the kitchen counter. And a few chairs. Convinced neighbours not to call the fire department. Neighbours have a dog. Looks delicious. I mean, adorable. It’s an adorable dinner! Damnit, dog!

16:17. How long can one survive without proper nutrition? Hopefully at least a day or so. I’ll be fine.

17:45. Primal hunter instincts are taking over. Attempted to catch the neighbours’ dog. Neighbours not amused, threatened to call police. Neighbours look tasty too. Mental note: consider neighbours as potential source of nutrition in case of emergency.

21:08. No recollection of the past three hours. Must have blacked out. Woke up wielding a machete, surrounded by countless remains of what appear to be rabbits. Where did I find so many rabbits? The words “Chupacabra Slayer” are etched into my left arm with a very blunt knife. Most puzzling.

21:09. Surprisingly no longer hungry. Most puzzling.

22:13. Find myself forgetting basic human words. Beard inexplicably grown since yesterday and now covers all of face. Every once in a while my mouth produces incomprehensible grunts and screeching, skin-crawling sounds. I have no control over this.

23:08. OK, Daniel. You’re not the first one to be left alone for the weekend. Others have made it. So can you! Yes, that helps. I can do this. Less than a day left. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this!


23:52. Looks like in my panic I have ran head first into one of the doors and knocked myself out. Regained consciousness on the floor, lying in foetal position. Surprisingly comforting. Now I just need to survive the night.



03:18. Blood everywhere. Oh my God. There’s so much blood! What have I done?!

03:22. False alarm. Wasn’t blood. Turns out I brought a bucket of bright red paint into our bedroom. Where did I get a bucket of red paint? I used it to spell “HEL” in huge letters on our bedroom wall. I guess I was going for “HELP”, but it could just as well have been “HELL”. I am officially no longer in control of my mental or physical faculties.

10:01. Finished the note on the bedroom wall. It spells “HELIUM”. That raises more questions than it answers.

12:27. Voices in head generally friendly. Except Ben. He’s an asshole. Fuck that guy!

14:02. Hunger is back. Ben is trying to convince me to eat my own left arm. I’m finding myself agreeing with him. Everything my left arm can do the right one can do better.

14:03. Where is that machete?

14:57. Fought the temptation to eat own arm. Instead made a semblance of a sandwich from raw eggs, sweet biscuits, lettuce and a banana. This may actually taste quite good!

14:58. It didn’t taste good at all. Ben is laughing. Seriously, fuck that guy!

16:01. Energy – gone. Hope – gone. Will to live – going. Ben is telling dirty jokes and making lewd gestures that involve cucumbers and some kind of metal contraption of his own making. No energy left to hate Ben.

17:20. This will be the final entry. I am done. Sanity is gone. Remember me as a man who fought until his last breath. Goodbye. Tell Ben I said hi. Stick a needle through my eye. Get me jam and make me fly. Google diddle doodle die……..

17:51. Faint rustling noises enter my consciousness. Sounds like a mouse giving a pedicure to a gorilla. Or, maybe, a key turning in the lock? Could it be?! YES! She’s back! I am saved! I am sane! Ben and I have both been rescued and will live happily ever after!

17:53. Holy shit! When she sees those dead rabbits and “HELIUM” in our bedroom she’s going to kill me! Ben, quick, we have to get out of here RIGHT NOW!