Zombies.

In a cave behind my house i found a softer world. The people there knew what i had to do to be happy. They don't believe in technology. I used to spend hours on the telephone and web. I would cry for hours when i realized how fast time had passed, and that i had missed out on life. Then, i awoke one morning and i could fly. I just spread my arms and went. The people said that they understood that. Things like that happen. People who see it, free themselves. Then i told them how, one year for Valentines Day, my mother took me to the beach, and just left me there. And at night, the crabs would come out of the sand, and i would watch them. Sometimes take pictures to capture their souls. One last chance. I built a machine to hear their thoughts, you know. And they were saying, " we will rise, we will defeat." I got sort've hung up on that. I left the beach. Burned all the pictures. I thought i was lucky for escaping before they attacked. Until i got a zit on prom night. Then i gave up on luck. After prom, he drove me down the highway towards a tunnel. Nervous, i turned on the radio. It said to follow the lights towards the smell of freedom. No problem.

Life story, here.

Well, find my mother, and tell her i love her. There's a softer world through there, towards freedom. Millions of pawn shops and bottle caps that say - winner-. Everyone has a chance for a new start. I try to convince myself otherwise. It's all too good, too unreal. But inside i tell myself that it's true. I can be free. So then i go and lock myself in a bathroom and laugh until i cry. Taste my salty tears. Looking back on my day of escape, i have one thing to be ashamed of. One regret. I should have packed a pair of scissors. Maybe now my hair wouldn't be so unmanageable. Who cares, really? When i die, i won't have any hair to worry about. So anyways, In this softer world, they have bombs. Bombs of truth and beauty. No one has to worry about dating zombies. They're all zombies. And to a zombie, a zombie is completely normal. No zombies. I left the real zombies behind, that night. They were nervous around me. I would watch them twiddle their thumbs, and listen to them count in binary in their heads... zero one, one zero, one one... while i would count clouds. I suppose i'm how i am, because the doctor flipped tails, instead of heads. He always flipped heads. There was something wrong with that doctor. He was always forgetting things. Never could tell a straight joke. He'd tell me, "knock, knock." i'd say, "who's there?" then he'd say, "i dont remember." and then he would start crying. I'd tell him that it was okay. that i was leaving. i was going to a softer world, and that he wouldn't have to worry about me anymore. He stopped. Gave me a half smile. That's when i noticed that his teeth were kind've crooked, and that he parted his hair on the wrong side. I haven't trusted a doctor since. The next day i mailed a letter to the President. I said, Dear Mr. President, Your time is almost up. Then i sort've laughed a little, and smiled kind've wicked. I made my own envelope, and mailed it on a Sunday. Two weeks later, the President choked on a fork, and died. It couldnt't be my fault... or could it? Anyways, i dont have any regrets. That night, i got locked out of my apartment. The gum in the keyhole trick didn't work again. I had to stay at a friends house. She was having a sleepover. All the girls talked about boys and fingernail polish. They laughed way too much. When i told them about my uncles un-identified lip fungus, they all stopped talking/laughing, and went to sleep in the other room. Left me where i was. Well, i found it interesting anyways. At least i could get some rest, now. Yeah. Well, while i was sleeping, they all snuck into my room and cleaned my hair. I think they knew it would erk me. When i woke up, i didnt know who i was. I told them thanks, as sarcastically as possible, and left. But it's okay. I'm going to a softer world. And i'm not packing any scissors. I went to get coffee, the people laughed at me. I was fine with that. They have never touched a cloud. It rained that day. It flooded that day. People were running around grabbing all their computers and tax documents. I rolled up my jeans. Walked into water. After all, there is a softer world under the ocean. A softer world where fish talk, and boys actually call you back. But, i can't hold my breath long enough to get there. I'm sticking to the tunnels.

I met a boy. Instead of asking him what his name was, i just screamed out, "i cannot contain my lust!" Now, he probably thinks i'm a creep. My mother had a boyfriend. My sister had a boyfriend. Me, i'm waiting for a nice zombie. They understand me better. They call me back. Anyways, when i get to my softer world, things will be different. People will respect one another, war won't exist. We will finally understand SEX. Sometimes i will mail him letters. I'll wrap up my heart in a box and send it to him. But people would discourage me. They would ask, "why would you want to send him something broken?" In the softer world, there won't be any bad stories in the paper. At the end they will all say, " she's really okay. she was just having a bad dream." thats how i like it. when i get to the softer world, things will be different. no more pretty boys. i'll be dating zombies.

in the softer world, things make sense. people look weird. strange bodies, all messed up and tangled. that's where people like me belong. people who are here because the doctor flipped tails instead of heads.