The headphones are put on and I slip easily into a musical envelope. Harsh words and ignorance are deflected by the notes protecting my ears.
My back is turned to them. I see no evil.
I've tuned out the little digs at my person. I hear no evil.
I sing along to much happier messages. I speak no evil.
I count the days until I am no longer within earshot of negativity. I count the days until they're put in their place. I count the days.
My spirit is lightened. I've shucked the heavy cloud that has been lingering over my thoughts. It's amazing what a little music can do for your soul.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Playing Dirty...
Friday arrived with the dreaded hang-over from hell. Yes, I have paid the piper before. It had just been such a long time since I had to pay that toll that I forgot the exact change, got in the wrong lane, and stalled near the toll booth. I don’t think I’ll be traveling down that road again for some time. Some people enjoy my road trips into the void, (I tend to really cut loose), but it’s not good for me. I took it easy on Friday and tried to recoup some of those damaged brain cells. In taking a break, I decided to beautify my surrounding.
The much anticipated long weekend started after work on Friday. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was going nowhere and planned on doing nothing. Nothing but stuff I liked. Selfish, I know, but sometimes you just have to do for yourself.
I had been eyeballing my backyard for a few weeks. Spring has sprung, but old containers that once held a rainbow of colors in the form of flowers were empty. They called my name to make them pretty again. I kicked the thought around a few weeks, but now I had that "itch" to do something about it. It started when it was discovered that Fang (the snake) tried to eat Frogzilla (the frog). Fortunately, Fang's eyes were bigger than it's mouth and we were able to rescue Frogzilla. But in trying to save the suicidal frog, I saw the bleakness of the yard. It needed color. It needed to look welcoming and bright. It needed my work.
Indoor house plants will not survive my black thumb of death, but with some help, I can make the yard pretty and not kill everything in sight. I have great intentions, but I lack something. I'm not sure what it is, but I do kill nearly everything in the house.
There’s nothing I love more than getting dirty. I get great satisfaction in working hard in tearing out something ugly. I like the sweat and sore bones at the end of the day. It means I worked hard and with purpose. I'll wrestle with ivy or unruly vines, rip out weeds or angry thistle, and chop up bamboo that threatens to take over my yard.
I took a day to get down and dirty with nature. Pink, orange, blue, purple, white, fushia, gold, yellow, and green were planted in and around my backyard. A splash of color here, a bit of green there. The dirtier I got, the more relaxed I became. I felt my inner screaming voice become quieter and quieter. I was starting to hear the birds chirp and the buzzing of the bees. The anxious thoughts were being buried in the pots with the flowers. I was letting go.
I upended countless pots, planted black tulips, moved daffodils, planted some tall grassy things, killed some unknown plants from last year, and placed my new flowers all over the yard. After I cleaned up, I found I was tired from physically working. My hands were dirty and I had a splinter. My shoulders were sunburned and so was my nose. I was sweaty and relaxed.
As I sit back today and admire my work, my mind pictures more plants and flowers. I find that I smile at what was done. I have made my own zen garden for me to smile and relax in. So when the voices get too loud, you will find me in my backyard, smiling at the flowers, maybe reading a book, and finding my zen moment.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
25 Things You Should Know...
This is for Fimble, who doesn't like zombies.
1. If you're too open-minded, your brains will fall out.
2. Don't worry about what people think, they don't do it very often.
3. Going to church doesn't make you a Christian, any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.
4. It ain't the jeans that make your butt look fat.
5. Artificial intelligence is no match for natural stupidity.
6. My idea of housework is to sweep the room with a glance.
7. Not one shred of evidence supports the notion that life is serious.
8. It is easier to get forgiveness than permission.
9. For every action, there is an equal and opposite government program.
10. If you look like your passport picture, you probably need the trip.
11. Bills travel through the mail at twice the speed of checks.
12. A conscience is what hurts when all of your other parts feel so good.
13. Eat well, stay fit, die anyway.
14. Men are from earth. Women are from earth. Deal with it.
15. No man has ever been shot while doing the dishes.
16. A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand.
17. Middle age is when broadness of the mind and narrowness of the waist change places.
18. Opportunities always look bigger going than coming.
19. Junk is something you've kept for years and throw away three weeks before you need it.
20. There is always one more imbecile than you counted on.
21. Experience is a wonderful thing. It enables you to recognize a mistake when you make it again.
22. By the time you can make ends meet, they move the ends.
23. Thou shalt not weigh more than thy refrigerator.
24. Someone who thinks logically, provides a nice contrast to the real world.
and my personal favorite:
25. If you must choose between two evils, pick the one you've never tried before.
1. If you're too open-minded, your brains will fall out.
2. Don't worry about what people think, they don't do it very often.
3. Going to church doesn't make you a Christian, any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.
4. It ain't the jeans that make your butt look fat.
5. Artificial intelligence is no match for natural stupidity.
6. My idea of housework is to sweep the room with a glance.
7. Not one shred of evidence supports the notion that life is serious.
8. It is easier to get forgiveness than permission.
9. For every action, there is an equal and opposite government program.
10. If you look like your passport picture, you probably need the trip.
11. Bills travel through the mail at twice the speed of checks.
12. A conscience is what hurts when all of your other parts feel so good.
13. Eat well, stay fit, die anyway.
14. Men are from earth. Women are from earth. Deal with it.
15. No man has ever been shot while doing the dishes.
16. A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand.
17. Middle age is when broadness of the mind and narrowness of the waist change places.
18. Opportunities always look bigger going than coming.
19. Junk is something you've kept for years and throw away three weeks before you need it.
20. There is always one more imbecile than you counted on.
21. Experience is a wonderful thing. It enables you to recognize a mistake when you make it again.
22. By the time you can make ends meet, they move the ends.
23. Thou shalt not weigh more than thy refrigerator.
24. Someone who thinks logically, provides a nice contrast to the real world.
and my personal favorite:
25. If you must choose between two evils, pick the one you've never tried before.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Buzzed and loose...
Vodka
Cherry chocolate
What at mess I've become.
I type and the words are blurred, my speech is slurry and I'm wobbling, but I thank P. Fluffynuts for making me imbibe.
My day was forgotten, and I laughed. Really laughed from my toes. And it was good.
What a perfect end to an awful day.
Thank you.
Cherry chocolate
What at mess I've become.
I type and the words are blurred, my speech is slurry and I'm wobbling, but I thank P. Fluffynuts for making me imbibe.
My day was forgotten, and I laughed. Really laughed from my toes. And it was good.
What a perfect end to an awful day.
Thank you.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Barbie Days...
I spent the other evening talking with an old friend. I've known her since I was 5. We met when she lived across the street from me. She had a friend who was much larger than either of us and wasn't very friendly. Our very first conversation went like this;
Mean girl {shouting to me}: "I have a Ding Dong and you don't have one!"
Me {shouting back}: "So what!"
Mean girl {holding Ding Dong up and teasing me}: "I have a Ding Dong and you don't have one!"
Me {picking up a dirt clod}: "Yeah? So what! I have a dirt clod."
Me {throws dirt clod into the street}
Me {throws another dirt clod at them}
{dirt clod hits car}
Mean girl {shouting}: "I'm telling."
Me {runs away}
Not long after the dirt clod incident, while I was still hiding in my bedroom, my apartment doorbell rang. My mother eagerly answered the door. There, upon the doorstep, was a woman and a young girl. Not the one that I had been throwing dirt clods at. She introduced herself to my mother and proceeded to explain how I behaved earlier in the day.
The young girl looked at me, and I at her. She had longish dark brown hair, blue eyes, tan skin, and a big smile. I on the other hand had white-blonde hair, green eyes, and pale skin. In my hand was a Malibu Barbie. My prized possession.
The girl looked at me and said, "I have Barbies too."
My eyes lit up, "You do? I have more in my bedroom. Wanna see them?"
We went off to my bedroom to go check out the scene. And that, as they say, was that.
We spent many hours and many years playing with Barbies. We concocted outrageous stories and lives that our beloved dolls would be a part of. We dressed them in the finest couture in Barbiedom and gave them equally fascinating names.
Whether we would play at my house or hers, we made fantastic homes out of household items. Our stories were better than the ones you would find on the soap operas.
Ah, Barbie days.
I still have my Barbies. They are in a box in my basement. They were saved for when I had a little girl. I never had a little girl, so there they stay, waiting for a granddaughter that I hope to one day have.
If I could only go back to a time when a toilet paper roll could become a throne and my Barbie was the queen. When play was magical and uninterrupted. When imaginations ran wild and free. When the biggest worry was, "Where did I put that other go-go boot that matches my dress?"
My girlfriend and I grew up and bonded through Barbies. We remain best of friends to this day. Our conversations are not frequent, but when I hear her voice on the other end of the telephone line, it's like the conversation never ended. We pick up where we left off and go from there.
It's good to have a soul-mate friend. Everybody needs one. I'm just lucky that I found mine at such a young age.
Mean girl {shouting to me}: "I have a Ding Dong and you don't have one!"
Me {shouting back}: "So what!"
Mean girl {holding Ding Dong up and teasing me}: "I have a Ding Dong and you don't have one!"
Me {picking up a dirt clod}: "Yeah? So what! I have a dirt clod."
Me {throws dirt clod into the street}
Me {throws another dirt clod at them}
{dirt clod hits car}
Mean girl {shouting}: "I'm telling."
Me {runs away}
Not long after the dirt clod incident, while I was still hiding in my bedroom, my apartment doorbell rang. My mother eagerly answered the door. There, upon the doorstep, was a woman and a young girl. Not the one that I had been throwing dirt clods at. She introduced herself to my mother and proceeded to explain how I behaved earlier in the day.
The young girl looked at me, and I at her. She had longish dark brown hair, blue eyes, tan skin, and a big smile. I on the other hand had white-blonde hair, green eyes, and pale skin. In my hand was a Malibu Barbie. My prized possession.
The girl looked at me and said, "I have Barbies too."
My eyes lit up, "You do? I have more in my bedroom. Wanna see them?"
We went off to my bedroom to go check out the scene. And that, as they say, was that.
We spent many hours and many years playing with Barbies. We concocted outrageous stories and lives that our beloved dolls would be a part of. We dressed them in the finest couture in Barbiedom and gave them equally fascinating names.
Whether we would play at my house or hers, we made fantastic homes out of household items. Our stories were better than the ones you would find on the soap operas.
Ah, Barbie days.
I still have my Barbies. They are in a box in my basement. They were saved for when I had a little girl. I never had a little girl, so there they stay, waiting for a granddaughter that I hope to one day have.
If I could only go back to a time when a toilet paper roll could become a throne and my Barbie was the queen. When play was magical and uninterrupted. When imaginations ran wild and free. When the biggest worry was, "Where did I put that other go-go boot that matches my dress?"
My girlfriend and I grew up and bonded through Barbies. We remain best of friends to this day. Our conversations are not frequent, but when I hear her voice on the other end of the telephone line, it's like the conversation never ended. We pick up where we left off and go from there.
It's good to have a soul-mate friend. Everybody needs one. I'm just lucky that I found mine at such a young age.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Tonight's special on the menu: Crow
The month of December was tough. Amid joyous holidays and vacations, my psyche and ego took countless hits.
I was used to being a "gold star" person and all of a sudden, my gold stars were removed and demerits were placed in their once shiny spots. I felt stupid, useless, tricked, confused, and shocked. Then I got angry. The type of anger that doesn't explode, but implodes.
I was removed from a situation I loved and thought I was good at. I was told I was good at it for a long time until that day. Then I was informed that I absolutely, without a doubt, sucked.
My world was crashing around me. I wanted to hand in my papers and take a hike. I deserved better than what I was getting and nobody seemed to notice or care. The anger went deep inside and started to smolder. That's when I started to hyper-focus.
Patience is a virtue I do not possess. Waiting, and waiting quietly, is not an easy feat for me even when I know good things come to those who wait. I tend to act on impulse rather than think things out. Unless I am so infuriated or hurt that I cease to process the actions of others. Instead, I shut down and take a step back. I lick my wounds and survey the damage. This is about when I start to stew.
Nose to the grindstone. Nose to the grindstone. I worked like a trained monkey. Shuffling papers, my mind ran wild from the lack of intelligent conversation. I was put in the corner like a misbehaving child. I had no way of seeing outside anymore, no people to talk to. I was ignored and passed over. There seemed to be no way out for me, so I hung in there. I looked past the humiliation and ego bashes. I took it all. I was biding my time.
After months of neglect, I was noticed. Out of nowhere, I became the source of information for everybody. I was training people on how to do what I used to do. I would smirk behind their backs. Removing me from that post was a mistake and they were beginning to see it for themselves. They had plenty of rope and were making up their own nooses.
I got a desk with a window. The best seat in the house. I was promoted and got my own team. I was given jobs that required an understanding and intelligence. I was given special access. Apparently to some, the sun shined out my ass. Even though others did not see it.
Today I was informed that the post that I once held and loved, needed my help desperately. This directive came from higher ups. I watched my boss shift uncomfortably in her chair. I saw the shaky smile try to turn sweet.
Now I'm waiting to hear the words from her, "Please clean up this mess."
It will be a good day indeed.
ps. For dessert, I'm serving Humble Pie. Mmmm.
I was used to being a "gold star" person and all of a sudden, my gold stars were removed and demerits were placed in their once shiny spots. I felt stupid, useless, tricked, confused, and shocked. Then I got angry. The type of anger that doesn't explode, but implodes.
I was removed from a situation I loved and thought I was good at. I was told I was good at it for a long time until that day. Then I was informed that I absolutely, without a doubt, sucked.
My world was crashing around me. I wanted to hand in my papers and take a hike. I deserved better than what I was getting and nobody seemed to notice or care. The anger went deep inside and started to smolder. That's when I started to hyper-focus.
Patience is a virtue I do not possess. Waiting, and waiting quietly, is not an easy feat for me even when I know good things come to those who wait. I tend to act on impulse rather than think things out. Unless I am so infuriated or hurt that I cease to process the actions of others. Instead, I shut down and take a step back. I lick my wounds and survey the damage. This is about when I start to stew.
Nose to the grindstone. Nose to the grindstone. I worked like a trained monkey. Shuffling papers, my mind ran wild from the lack of intelligent conversation. I was put in the corner like a misbehaving child. I had no way of seeing outside anymore, no people to talk to. I was ignored and passed over. There seemed to be no way out for me, so I hung in there. I looked past the humiliation and ego bashes. I took it all. I was biding my time.
After months of neglect, I was noticed. Out of nowhere, I became the source of information for everybody. I was training people on how to do what I used to do. I would smirk behind their backs. Removing me from that post was a mistake and they were beginning to see it for themselves. They had plenty of rope and were making up their own nooses.
I got a desk with a window. The best seat in the house. I was promoted and got my own team. I was given jobs that required an understanding and intelligence. I was given special access. Apparently to some, the sun shined out my ass. Even though others did not see it.
Today I was informed that the post that I once held and loved, needed my help desperately. This directive came from higher ups. I watched my boss shift uncomfortably in her chair. I saw the shaky smile try to turn sweet.
Now I'm waiting to hear the words from her, "Please clean up this mess."
It will be a good day indeed.
ps. For dessert, I'm serving Humble Pie. Mmmm.
Monday, May 12, 2008
If...
Every now and then, I like to ask myself "if" questions. They make me think. Some days I like easy questions and some days I like the ones that really rattle around in my brain. Today I ask:
If you were a color, what color would you be and why?
My answer?
I would be periwinkle. It's not blue and it's not pink. It's not even purple. It's periwinkle. It reminds me of the quiet of early morning (when I actually witness one) before the hustle and bustle of the day begins or the surrender of the day into evening. It represents quiet and calm.
Periwinkle also reflects change for me. It's a blending of several colors. All of which are appealing to me. If it were a mood, I think it is generally cheery with a hint of melancholy. Yes, that's me.
Hello I'm Periwinkle and I'll be your color for the evening.
If you were a color, what color would you be and why?
My answer?
I would be periwinkle. It's not blue and it's not pink. It's not even purple. It's periwinkle. It reminds me of the quiet of early morning (when I actually witness one) before the hustle and bustle of the day begins or the surrender of the day into evening. It represents quiet and calm.
Periwinkle also reflects change for me. It's a blending of several colors. All of which are appealing to me. If it were a mood, I think it is generally cheery with a hint of melancholy. Yes, that's me.
Hello I'm Periwinkle and I'll be your color for the evening.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Gosh snakes alive...
Well, I had a very nice Mother's Day. Whether you are a mother (and some of us are real mothers!) or have a mother, I hope you did too.
I was treated to gifts and breakfast after I slept in the morning. Not much more a person can ask for. Mother's Day is almost as good as my birthday. I even got a special dessert after dinner (mmmm.... chocolate mousse and cake stuff).
After I tortured my child by making him hang with me for the morning, I let him roam at a friends house. He was unleashed on somebody else's mother. He was excited to leave and the quiet was good.
Then I did one of those weird things that some people hate, but I happen to get in my zen time. I worked outside.
I know. I know. What was I huffing? I happen to like weeding, mowing the lawn, pruning, planting, or trimming. I like it because it lets me get inside my head, enjoy the sunshine, and clean up messy stuff. When I'm done, I've beautified something and that makes me happy. It gives me a sense of accomplishment. It's the "ta-da" factor that works for me.
I know this is just my opinion, but I truly believe it. Ivy is one of the most stupid plants to put in the ground. It's like a bunch of shoe laces tied up in a knot and then thrown deep in the dirt. If I could torch it without setting the house on fire, I think I would do it. (I'm still considering it, but if the house goes up in flames, is that still considered arson?)
I wrestled with the tangled knots of ivy for several hours. They just seem cemented in the ground and fight me the entire time I'm pulling. Once the string is ripped out, it invariably whips me in the head. I managed to get dirt and who knows what else in my hair, on my face, in my socks, and down my shirt.
On an interesting note:
Somebody wished me a bat-free day, and I did have one. So, thank you.
As most people know, sometimes my mouth does not engage the "mute" button when it should. This usually happens when I'm angry or surprised. The bat I found the other day did not experience a "mute" moment.
Today, I came upon a snake. Now, it was just a little garter snake, but I caught it sunning itself on the concrete. I managed to say "Oh! A snake!" We stared each other down a few minutes before he retreated. My mother can attest to the fact that I used no profanities because I was on the phone with her.
So, there you have it. A little sleep, good food, sunshine, and a snake makes for a very happy Mother's Day!
ps. We now have Frogzilla, Fluffy the bat, and Fang the snake.
I was treated to gifts and breakfast after I slept in the morning. Not much more a person can ask for. Mother's Day is almost as good as my birthday. I even got a special dessert after dinner (mmmm.... chocolate mousse and cake stuff).
After I tortured my child by making him hang with me for the morning, I let him roam at a friends house. He was unleashed on somebody else's mother. He was excited to leave and the quiet was good.
Then I did one of those weird things that some people hate, but I happen to get in my zen time. I worked outside.
I know. I know. What was I huffing? I happen to like weeding, mowing the lawn, pruning, planting, or trimming. I like it because it lets me get inside my head, enjoy the sunshine, and clean up messy stuff. When I'm done, I've beautified something and that makes me happy. It gives me a sense of accomplishment. It's the "ta-da" factor that works for me.
I know this is just my opinion, but I truly believe it. Ivy is one of the most stupid plants to put in the ground. It's like a bunch of shoe laces tied up in a knot and then thrown deep in the dirt. If I could torch it without setting the house on fire, I think I would do it. (I'm still considering it, but if the house goes up in flames, is that still considered arson?)
I wrestled with the tangled knots of ivy for several hours. They just seem cemented in the ground and fight me the entire time I'm pulling. Once the string is ripped out, it invariably whips me in the head. I managed to get dirt and who knows what else in my hair, on my face, in my socks, and down my shirt.
On an interesting note:
Somebody wished me a bat-free day, and I did have one. So, thank you.
As most people know, sometimes my mouth does not engage the "mute" button when it should. This usually happens when I'm angry or surprised. The bat I found the other day did not experience a "mute" moment.
Today, I came upon a snake. Now, it was just a little garter snake, but I caught it sunning itself on the concrete. I managed to say "Oh! A snake!" We stared each other down a few minutes before he retreated. My mother can attest to the fact that I used no profanities because I was on the phone with her.
So, there you have it. A little sleep, good food, sunshine, and a snake makes for a very happy Mother's Day!
ps. We now have Frogzilla, Fluffy the bat, and Fang the snake.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Going Batty...
I got a new table for outside.
It's very pretty. Instead of the hand-me-down 80s pink metal and plasticky chairs that I've had for many years, I've gone with brown powder coated metal and earth tones. It's just lovely. The chairs are sturdy and comfortable.
As my husband dutifully put the table together and put the chairs around, we opened the umbrella.
I was so excited for some crazy reason. As my mind's eye was relaxing and planning parties, I watched the umbrella being opened. It was a basic thought: opening up the umbrella was also opening up ideas for the summer. I envisioned warm summer nights, candles, wine, food, laughter, and friends. I could hear the music faintly playing in the background. My wind-chimes tinkling to a soft breeze.
As the umbrella opened up, I looked up the underside. I was appreciating the smoothness in which it unfolded itself as I cranked the handle. No more wrestling it open or closed. Then I noticed up in the top was what appeared to be a crumpled leaf. A large leaf.
I looked at it curiously. How did that leaf get up there? The umbrella is fairly new. New this spring. It wasn't outside during the fall. It was so odd to see a leaf stuck up in it already. I really started to focus on the object until it moved on it's own. My eyes saw and my brain connected. Too bad my mouth was not engaged with the "mute" switch.
For there, in the upper reaches of the umbrella was a tiny bat. Did I say something welcoming? Original? Flattering? Inquisitive?
No.
How about, "Oh F$#@ a bat!" Then after mild hyperventilating and frantic pointing I said, "Run away."
And I did.
It's very pretty. Instead of the hand-me-down 80s pink metal and plasticky chairs that I've had for many years, I've gone with brown powder coated metal and earth tones. It's just lovely. The chairs are sturdy and comfortable.
As my husband dutifully put the table together and put the chairs around, we opened the umbrella.
I was so excited for some crazy reason. As my mind's eye was relaxing and planning parties, I watched the umbrella being opened. It was a basic thought: opening up the umbrella was also opening up ideas for the summer. I envisioned warm summer nights, candles, wine, food, laughter, and friends. I could hear the music faintly playing in the background. My wind-chimes tinkling to a soft breeze.
As the umbrella opened up, I looked up the underside. I was appreciating the smoothness in which it unfolded itself as I cranked the handle. No more wrestling it open or closed. Then I noticed up in the top was what appeared to be a crumpled leaf. A large leaf.
I looked at it curiously. How did that leaf get up there? The umbrella is fairly new. New this spring. It wasn't outside during the fall. It was so odd to see a leaf stuck up in it already. I really started to focus on the object until it moved on it's own. My eyes saw and my brain connected. Too bad my mouth was not engaged with the "mute" switch.
For there, in the upper reaches of the umbrella was a tiny bat. Did I say something welcoming? Original? Flattering? Inquisitive?
No.
How about, "Oh F$#@ a bat!" Then after mild hyperventilating and frantic pointing I said, "Run away."
And I did.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Brains, brains, brains...
I've been thinking about zombies lately. I'm not sure why because they scare the bejesus out of me.
Maybe it's because zombies in today's movies are quick, smart, deranged, dirty, and will get you.
Of all the movies monsters I find them most disturbing. They give me nightmares. Maybe it's how you get the "virus" that scares me. I don't like being bitten. My kid bit me once. He didn't even break the skin and it hurt like a mother.
Maybe it's because once you've been infected, you become a human animal. No longer do you care about your life, loved ones, car, job, pet. You don't care about anything. You completely let go. All you want to do is feed. You become destructive and dangerous.
Maybe it's allusion of the breakdown of society when zombie shit goes down. Every man/woman for themselves. You would throw your neighbor in front of a speeding zombie to save yourself. I know I would.
Then there's the real question - if your loved one - husband, wife, or child became a zombie would you be able to kill them? Could you be merciful and put them out of their misery? Knowing that this is not a good life for them? I don't know if I could do that. I'd probably be gnoshed on by my family members because I couldn't take them out.
I wouldn't want to be a zombie. But, what if I became a zombie and loved it? No, that would never happen because I don't like touching other people and I don't like them touching me. I also don't like being dirty and I'm too much of a control freak. I would suck at being a zombie. I'd probably be a real whiner about it.
Ah, pondering deep zombie thoughts on a Sunday night. Maybe I should stop watching those kind of movies and try something different - like psychological thrillers.
ps - I think I could take out some of my family members. And, part of me seems to feel that they don't even need to be zombies.
43%
Maybe it's because zombies in today's movies are quick, smart, deranged, dirty, and will get you.
Of all the movies monsters I find them most disturbing. They give me nightmares. Maybe it's how you get the "virus" that scares me. I don't like being bitten. My kid bit me once. He didn't even break the skin and it hurt like a mother.
Maybe it's because once you've been infected, you become a human animal. No longer do you care about your life, loved ones, car, job, pet. You don't care about anything. You completely let go. All you want to do is feed. You become destructive and dangerous.
Maybe it's allusion of the breakdown of society when zombie shit goes down. Every man/woman for themselves. You would throw your neighbor in front of a speeding zombie to save yourself. I know I would.
Then there's the real question - if your loved one - husband, wife, or child became a zombie would you be able to kill them? Could you be merciful and put them out of their misery? Knowing that this is not a good life for them? I don't know if I could do that. I'd probably be gnoshed on by my family members because I couldn't take them out.
I wouldn't want to be a zombie. But, what if I became a zombie and loved it? No, that would never happen because I don't like touching other people and I don't like them touching me. I also don't like being dirty and I'm too much of a control freak. I would suck at being a zombie. I'd probably be a real whiner about it.
Ah, pondering deep zombie thoughts on a Sunday night. Maybe I should stop watching those kind of movies and try something different - like psychological thrillers.
ps - I think I could take out some of my family members. And, part of me seems to feel that they don't even need to be zombies.
43%
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)