My Crazy #1
Fear of zombies is my crazy. I have tried desperately to get rid of this crazy, but because I insist on feeding the crazy with television shows like The Walking Dead, it’s impossible to cure the crazy.
I love The Walking Dead. What a gorgeous study of human nature and how it doesn’t change when faced with a life-threatening crisis such as the zombie apocalypse. Assholes will still be assholes, there are still leaders and followers, sex/food/water still drive humans to steal, lie, envy, covet, etc. There are moments of “no man is an island”/kumbaya/we’re stronger together…but really, it’s a fucking soap opera.
Yesterday, I watched 7 1/2 hours of zombie television. I don’t know why I did that to myself. It’s another argument that this show is that good. They got a straight up, pee-herself-scared-of-zombies-sissy to watch a marathon of their show…and still want more.
The first 30 minutes of the show stressed me out. They break down on the highway and a massive herd of zombies are walking down the road. They hide under cars and dead bodies, and damn. It was a slowly built, tension filled, gross scene that I couldn’t take my eyes off of.
After the show, I had to read some rubbish romance novel to get the zombies out of my head. My crazy was waiting behind the door to tackle me. I could feel it there. I read about a strong viral lord ripping the bodice off of some “no means yes”, voluptuous virgin who can’t stop staring at her lord’s manhood….until a zombie burst in and started eating them.
I decided to watch some comedy on TV. That finally put me to sleep. I turned off the television and dreamt a fucked up dream where a creepy old man was asking me if the kids in the park were fornicating while his creepier wife in a house-dress was pointing a shotgun at me. Yeah, real nice dream.
The alarm clock went off and I woke up thinking, loud noises attract them. I instantly looked out the window to see if there were any zombies roaming the street. I shit you not. I did this. I then told myself to ignore the crazy and that there were no zombies. If another person were there, they would have had me committed.
I went into the kitchen, turned on the light, and thought…the light attracts them. I called myself things way meaner than idiot.
I was all right the rest of the morning. I forgot about the zombies while trying to figure out what to wear to work. It was good to get my mind off of how stupid I was being. I got dressed without being nuts. I was free of my crazy.
But I had to get to my car in the dark. My crazy bitch-slapped me when I wasn’t looking and I ran to my car like I had a swarm of bees chasing me. Seriously. If my neighbors were looking out their windows, they would have either laughed or called the cops. After I got the car started and doors locked, I started to laugh. Really hysterical laughter. Who wouldn’t? I’m a freaking dumbass who just ran down her stairs and to her car like a lunatic.
Needless to say, there were no zombies. I’m ashamed to admit that I lost my mind for a few hours this morning. My crazy was hungry and I fed that bitch with guts and brains. I’m okay now, but really…I’m just stupid.
Will I continue to watch The Walking Dead? Hell yes, just not at night. Never again. And not a marathon…never never never again will I feed my crazy like that.
But just in case…remember to destroy the brain.