I am a zombie, myself along with the other millions of children. Every morning we wake up like the hordes of the un-dead, sprouting up from our seemingly short rest, we swarm to our motor vehicles a force that compels us. Soon we arrive by the hundreds sometimes thousands, we swarm everywhere, some of us even have others we prefer to swarm with. Bells and whistles move us to our next location, the same everyday, hallways crowd with our masses, like a river we move turning and moving, those who attempt who try to resist the tide are pushed back, soon we arrive this time in smaller numbers of a few dozen, we attack the small rooms often for hours at a time, soon another bell moves us, and the cycle repeats, over and over until lunch, a zombies' only time for "free will," once more the lines fill with us, by the hundreds we beg for food, often paying with our own arms and legs for a bite of none of the essential food groups. As soon as lunch begins it ends and the process of the river of flesh moves. Soon a bell, different than the rest rings, and so like that morning by the hundreds we move out into the world, some swarm the nearest belly filler others swarm to even more monotonous tasks. Wherever we are our lives are the same, no color, no surprises, just the same predictability that follows. Soon it'll be night time and the process repeats for years at a time. We know no change, no variety, no joy we do what we must do, never breaking stride. Like the legions of the undead we are, marching forward to our battlefield that is high school.
Day in the life (of a zombie)
November 17, 2010