day trader zombie
Random Observation/Comment #86: No one could tell if I had my eyes open or not. I couldn’t see if this was because I had black paint around my eyes as a zombie, or if it was because I’m Asian. Regardless, it was an undeadly combination (zing).
Only a few hours have passed since the bite. I’m losing grasp of reality and my train of thought. These urges keep my temper erratic and volatile. It’s a hunger. It’s a thirst. It goes deeper than a simple desire. I cannot fight such basic needs that I feel are essential for my survival. I’m beginning to lose my sense of self restraint. Everyone looks so delicious. My nostrils tingle and I’m blindly following the aroma. The smell of flesh sends my cravings into overdrive. It reminds me of that head high rush from that longing kiss. I want it to escalate to something more satisfying
Conversations have been difficult to maintain without looking above the eyes. There’s nothing wrong with your hair, I’m just interested in what it’s keeping protected. I love talking to Cooper students. They’re so … interesting. I just want to pick their brains… about everything. . I don’t ask for a bite – why not just a lick? No, I must stop!
I’ve developed this hobble in my step. I feel no pain, yet my normal stride is awkward. My leg stays twisted as I drag it behind me. My arms and fingers are tense and stuck in a permanent typing position as I walk. My eyes have already lost most of its focus. I am driven on that smell alone. It’s luring me into a darkness I’m afraid I can’t escape. It won’t be long before I start gnawing the arms of those around me. There must be a solution. There must be something to keep me at least partly civil.
Beer? Liquor? It’s worth a shot (hah! Zombies can make terrible puns). So many places to go, but where will my changes be least noticeable? St. Mark’s place is a good start. I’m frightened by the characters that place produces. If I’m lucky, I’ll leave there with my sanity and my fashion sense. I can deal with a little bit of blood complimenting that severed foot in my left hand, but why would you wear so much metal?
Wait – I know the perfect place. It’s already infested with those that are ready to turn to our side and give to our cause any week now. Their thirst is different from mine and their chains do not let them leave the office, but surely we have much in common. Wall Street, here I come.
~See Lemons Brraaaaiiiinnnssss.. uhh.. Beeeerrrrrr!!!
working stiff 🙂
zombies for obama 🙂
