The Perks of Being a Zombie

VERSE 1

I once had wild dreams of being a creator

But everyone else was a heel commentator

“Fix computers, scoop ice cream into cones

Do it all for your wallet and future home”

But I resisted every obnoxious voice

The ones in my head gave me no choice

“Listen and conform to everything we say

If you don’t want bleed for the rest of the day”

CHORUS

“Move it! Move it! Get your fat ass in gear!

Let’s go! Let’s go! Before I kick you in the rear!

Faster! Faster! Listen to what’s in your ear!

The perks of being a zombie are always clear!”

VERSE 2

I packed up and went to the indoctrination center

The closest place to hell that I could ever enter

I wouldn’t know it from the numbness in my brain

When it comes to pain, it all feels the same

Psychotic behavior was disguised as laziness

Torment and anguish was disguised as craziness

I never felt so naked in all of my goddamn life

The suicidal tendencies always felt so right

CHORUS

“Move it! Move it! Get your fat ass in gear!

Let’s go! Let’s go! Before I kick you in the rear!

Faster! Faster! Listen to what’s in your ear!

The perks of being a zombie are always clear!”

VERSE 3

I had a Broken Universe before it became cool

My pillow was always soaked in undead drool

My dreams were grayer than the winter shadow

Doing my homework was always such a battle

One day in psychology class, I found the name

Of the force inside me that brought me shame

A condition that I thought was traumatic cinema

Name of my disease was paranoid schizophrenia

ALTERNATIVE CHORUS

I am the master! You are the slave!

Nobody tells me how to behave!

It took a whole decade, but my eyes are wide!

I don’t have to run, I don’t have to hide!

My nights are cozy, my dreams are sweeter!

I’m a positive force and a negative eater!

You call me crazy and I give my thanks!

I’m the captain of the ship, I’m pulling rank!

High School Dreams

It’s hard to believe that I graduated from high school way back in 2003. And yet, the past refuses to rest in its shallow grave. Of all the dreams I’ve had in my adult life, going back to school is the most common. According to Dream Moods, going back to high school suggests inadequacy. I’ve graduated from college in 2009, but I haven’t been able to find a career that will make me independent.

So what do I have now? Dreams where I’m trying to figure out what grades I got by logging onto the school website, but I forgot my username and password. I’ve also had dreams where I go to school completely naked. Despite my overweight frame, nobody seems to notice or otherwise care.

And then there are those really interesting dreams where I sign up for a math or science class and I’m in danger of failing, so I drop out with a W for a grade. English literature, on the other hand, I have no problem with. I read the books and complete the assignments in a timely fashion, so my teachers couldn’t be happier with me.

Here’s a weird one for you: going to gym class and forgetting my exercise clothes only to have a fellow student buy them for me at the student store. I’m forever in that kid’s debt.

But sometimes school can’t last forever (bummer). Sometimes I have to ride the bus home…and then a foot ferry…and then a military grade submarine…and then an airplane. Did I leave anything out? How about me going to school in a really tiny building, almost microscopic. And then once I get to class, I try to find a seat, but all the desks and seats have graffiti on them.

There are a lot of different ways for a subconscious to tell a guy how inadequate he really is. Is there something else my brain is trying to tell me? Do I really need a reminder of how I’ve only made a 60 cent profit this entire time of selling my writing? Do I really need the point driven home that I couldn’t even make it as a library scientist (because they wouldn’t hire me in the first place)? Do I need to be told over and over again how all of my work experience has been voluntary?

Not everybody’s life can be rainbows and skittles. Very few people can say they’re part of the 1%. Should they start having high school dreams too? What exactly constitutes success? Money? Fame? Happiness?

I don’t claim to have all of the answers, but if my subconscious is going to keep throwing these high school dreams at me, it should at least have the decency to provide me with honest answers about myself. And if my subconscious doesn’t have all the answers, who does, and is this person within reach? So many questions, not enough answers. It’s the story of my life, even when I was still going to high school.

　

***MOVIE QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“I’ve been doing some web design.”

-Peter Parker aka Spiderman from “The Amazing Spiderman 2”-

Dreams About Fighting Criminals

I haven’t been in a fight since 2003. I’m not talking about a pitty-patty slap fest, I’m talking about a real, down in the dirt, drag-out brawl. In 2003 when I had my last fight, I punched my opponent in the face and then he ended up dragging me to the floor and returning the favor tenfold. Ever since then, I’ve thought about getting in more fights, but I’ve never actually done it. It could be that I’ve developed allergies to a jail cell and the people who occupy it. But lord knows there were plenty of people in my life worth kicking the shit out of. I could do it too if I put my mind to it. This must be the reason why I keep having dreams at night about getting in fights with criminals. Not just anybody, but criminals. High school bullies, street thugs, people who think they’re street thugs, and just plain guys from Seattle: in my dream’s theater, they all want a piece of me. Every time they look for a battle with me, they always lose. I’ve done everything in these subconscious battles from twisting them into submission holds to breaking their necks to just plain delivering punches and kicks. Hell, there was even one dream where I collected the scalps of everybody I fought. What exactly do these dreams mean? Do they mean that it’s time to kick some ass again? I’d like to think so, but again, I’m not looking forward to a life in prison. That reminds me of a little trope about growing up. When you’re a kid and you get in a fight, you get a time out. When you’re a pre-teen, you get a one day vacation from school. When you’re a full-blown teenager, you get a five day vacation from school. But when you’re an adult, that vacation can last anywhere from a short-lived night to a 25-year sentence behind bars. The lesson here is that the older you get, the worse the punishment. If you have people to beat up, do it before you’re old enough to go to prison for a life sentence. This is especially important if you come from a poor family. Matt Taibbi wrote an entire book about how poor people are punished worse than rich people. If you’re a working class black lady and you slap your cheating boyfriend, you’ll go to jail for a long, long time. If you’re a rich white cocksucker who molested his children, the judge will give you probation because rich people “don’t do well in prison”. No wonder I have so many dreams about fighting people: there are lots of people to fight and lots of anger to go around. But this is just the dream world. In the real world, I do all my fighting through my short stories. I have characters who fight for their lives, for justice, for love, and for honor. They don’t always do it with an AK-47 and a Sherman tank. Sometimes they just scream with all their soul power and that’s often enough.

　

***FACE BOOK POST OF THE DAY***

“If Mike Tyson asks permission to do something, is it wrong to tell him to knock himself out?”

-Me-