The other day as I sat watching Zombieland,
yet another zombie movie, albeit a
funny one, I suddenly felt very amused with our love for zombie movies. And by us, I mean all humankind of course,
because we just love to generalize, don’t we?
There’s something so captivating about
seeing the hero and his family run all over the world from the drooling
bleeding brain-dead zombies, while everyone around them is devoured and turned
(like EVERY zombie movie ever made).
And it’s so so ironic.
Because the real zombies sit outside the TV
screen, captivated by this weird brain dead species, when really their brains
died years ago without them ever realizing it.
The real zombies wake up every day, go slog
at work, come back home, eat and sleep.
The real zombies manage to not even write a decent
blog post in months, because they’re just too exhausted to do anything.
The real zombies crib, and then wake up and
do the exact same thing all over again.
The real zombies spend their weekend
sleeping, or glued to the idiot box, laughing at what they think are zombies.
While really, the joke’s on them now, isn’t
it?
And it’s so sad, because at least in the
movie, the hero survives and manages to finally find a cure to save the
remaining world. Or a way to survive without giving in. A way to live.
And I’d kind of always hoped I’d be that
hero.
But then, this is real life.
And here I sit, staring at my excel sheet,
dreading the two hour traffic ridden route back home, hopelessly trying to
write, and cribbing.
Again.
