Life as a Zombie

I used to tell my son that I though Vampires were better than Zombies. He was obsessed about the show "The Walking Dead" and at the time I was mostly just watching "Game of Thrones" and "The Big Bang Theory" so I wasn't sure if I could get into a show about life with Zombies. I said, "Vampires are better looking monsters." I suppose that was my way of being "snobby" or my pride and vanity talking. If I had to be a monster, I thought being a beautiful monster would be better.

But I don't think that I am 100% right. Beauty is obviously desirable, but survival is not always beautiful - hence, why we even have a word such as Monster. I had written a poem about the difference between Zombies and Vampires, and I may dig it up to add or change some things as my opinion on the matter has matured as some years have gone by since I first thought about the subject.

Thirty years ago, I was fresh out of high school and I was a strong and beautiful vampire. I could have any guy I wanted for one night or a long-term flling. I was empty inside and so I related to every character in Anne Rice's "Interview with a Vampire" because she expressed that existential void in her novel. I never actually read Kirkman's comic books, but I know that many fans have so I listen to what they have to say about the show based on his writings and I did watch the first 7 seasons of The Walking Dead so I have formulated an opinion about Zombies and life in the wasteland.

This month I celebrate my 52nd birthday. I don't know how to explain my feelings about it. There are so many days that I really don't care if I wake up the next day. The past five years have been so horrible that I do not value my life anymore. I'm not suicidal. But this is not the life I ordered. This is not the life I worked for. This is not the life my mother wanted for me. This is not the way I'm supposed to look. This is not the status I should have at this age. All I do from one day to the next day is get by and dodge other monsters. I wake up, think about if brushing my teeth is even worth it because I'm probably going to die anyway, eat something because the hunger dictates that action, and search for a strategically safe and comfortable spot to sleep, hoping that maybe I won't wake up and have to do it again. That's Zombie life in a nutshell.

I'm not like the Vampire I was at the age of 21 or 22. No. I'm just a 52 year old Zombie. My knees hurt and I walk like I just got off an extremely long ride on a horse. I can't make it through the day without crying or wanting to break something if I don't have a pack of cigarettes. I've tried to throw my arms around the world with every positive or kind or loving thing I could think of only to be met with hostility, competition, jealousy, and hate. The beautiful people don't want me in their world whether I act like them or not. The successful people don't want a little Evita to have purchasing power at the Hilton on the beach or Rodeo Drive. They want her to give up Zombie life and be their little whore. These are the options? No wonder so many people prefer to be a Zombie. It's be a whore for the Vampires, or be poor and free as a Zombie. So I guess I'm going to stay a Zombie.

An article on Google's front page today was pointing out subjects in society that are overly "glorified" such as psychology, food obsessions, drug addictions, crime, and what not. At first, this Zombie thought it might hav a point and I was going to praise the writer. Then it ended with a slap in the face to Soldiers. At that point, I could not agree. I don't care what you think about nationalism or society, but I won't spit on or slap a soldier in or out of uniform. Only those who have never been there and take the freedoms and luxuries they have for granted could or would be so disrespectful to do something like that. I can't stoop to that dishonorable level whether I'm a Zombie or worse.

The beautiful people love to put others down. They are SO perfect. They don't smoke. They don't do drugs. They don't break the law. They have lots of expensive things. They eat all the right things. They never curse. They have perfect children in perfect schools and their perfect families have perfect traditional get-to-gethers on the perfect holidays. They have perfect jobs and perfect credit and perfect houses and perfect cars. How nice. We the Zombies of the world who have survived the destruction of "perfect life" smoke cigarettes, drink beer, and sneer at those delusional people. You can call us monsters, but we call you Plastic. You are just an invention and you will never know the glory of being Authentic, like us Zombies know.

Hey, don't get me wrong. I still think Vampires are sexy and beautiful. It's just that I happen to believe that surviving ugly and poor gives Zombies an inner beauty that is more intellectual and interesting - defines inner beauty. Tatoo artists are talented and they can make your flesh look like the Sisteen Chapel; but scars (seen or unseen) are the true marks of those with the best survival skills. Not a gucci purse, or a Rolex watch, or a Mercedes Benz. Those are just props for uncreative actors who are still mesmerized by the Vampires who want to make whores out of them.