Hello, Again

Been a while. Recently, I've been quite consumed with visitations though not of the undead kind. Family in and out, travel up and down and seemingly through the mountains--my brakes can attest to the accuracy of these statements. Thank you GPS for "losing" us in somewhat steep hills of PA. I suppose I should update those maps or maybe pray for a better sense of direction. Truth be told, I knew how I could get out those windy, 9.5 % grade mountains--I just didn't listen to my gut.

Of course, you may now be asking yourself after having read several of my fragments and run-on's what does this demented and delusional blogger's discourse have to do with zombie. Well, as I'm just free-thinking, not really much at this second. But, at a deeper look, perhaps my quite fully meandering mind has more to do with creepy, crawling corpses than originally thought. I feel like the song, "Wish You Were Here." If you don't know who wrote this one, shame on you though I could have typed it way faster than the time it took to admonish you. My head feels lost, foggy as it has since my job let out about 6 weeks ago. I feel like I am flitting from one day dream to the next and wondering what will actually shake me from this malaise. I would assume the piercing, ironic shredding of my flesh by a zombie would help stir my sense of reality a bit.

Really? Did she say a zombie biting her would make her feel more real? Perhaps, perhaps it would at least make me feel more physical. I've been swimming in Gaskell and B-rated Romantic comedies for days and need to wake the flip up. Still, have you ever had that feeling--the hypnotic notion that the only way to feel normal is to get bitten on the a$% by something paranormal? Sometimes when I read those gory books of the undead, I get lost there, as well. Adrift in a sea of severed limbs, rivers of blood, and the shriveling lumps of humanity wasting away on the side of some long forgotten back road, I feel myself becoming as fictional as the characters I read about. Other times, it is the interaction between my dazed life and something not so mundane that shakes my roots and shivers my leaves (yes, I made an awkward metaphor out of a tree). I stand taller, take longer gulps of vision at the world me, and actually feel alive.

Zombies give us a moment to fight against the real disease/infection/avoidance in our lives. Their sharp claws tear not necessarily at our soft bellies but at our gauze-mar veils of existentialism--the sense that all is subjective and never REAL. Zombies are really good at dismantling our defenses and making us run screaming for our lives (yes, I'm being densely figurative--please bare with me :) ).

I like that and more importantly, I need that.