Drifting between the man I was and the hunter I have become. At times the lines become blurred. I think back to times long past, people gone...family...friends...Bart Simpson...Casper Weinberger. I miss them all. At times I feel them walking beside me in my new form..they often smell of alka seltzer cold and flu, with a hint of sandalwood. And then.my mind clears..I refocus on my task at hand. Take another breath, walk forward, persevere, never fail to acknowledge these gifts of free Christmas ornaments and pop tarts. Thats right, the undead care not for pop tarts or toaster strudel. Therefore by default they are all mine. REJOICE in that simple victory! Masking tape by the pallet load holds my lonely heart firmly in place and unlimited Oakley sunglasses allow my focus to remain clear, even though I actually prefer Ray Ban. I seem to now give off a vibe of centered contentment combined with a star child quality, perhaps its just altoids? But I digress. Ever vigilant, waiting for contact, hopeful but absurd I continue to prowl. The undead now keep their distance like Lucifer when confronted by the taster freeze guy. I wait, I wait. I wait....send me a postcard! GETURZOMBIEONNN!!@#$%&??!@##!!
Posted on: Mon, 10 Mar 2014 01:02:26 +0000
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