Thus Spake the Zonbi
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A Coward's Justification

9/10/2017

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Zombie
I have come to realize that I know so little about them, and therefore it follows that I know so little about myself… Agh, no, this cannot be expanded upon now, there is no time. The procurement of cat food is my primary objective, and Shilah’s wavering mortality will not wait on such labyrinthine discourse. Time is of the essence. I made a vow, and I am a zombie of my word.

Yet, here I am somehow justifying the construction of sentence after non-contributing sentence, providing little in the way of a solution to the situation at hand. Oh, the burdens I bear, subject to such distracted and convoluted thoughts; author to such triviality. Perhaps it is in my nature, this persistent creation of nonsense under the guise of insight, like free-flowing sewage posing as clean drinking-water… or something, I don’t know, a more suitable simile evades my mind. But wait, let us return to the notion of nature. How can this possibly be determined – that which comprises of my nature – if I am unable to define myself in any coherent manner? I imagine some form of self-awareness is necessary if we are to proclaim subconscious tendencies, and be honest in doing so, otherwise the very notion of nature can be abused, misused, and misconstrued.  Oh, good lord. This is really getting quite ridiculous. Focus, Xander, you can do this. Wait a minute… Xander the zombie? Ugh, I shudder at the alliteration. I am surprised at not having noticed that before now. Okay, no more. Let us start again.

We shall begin with what I know thus far… and therefore, unfortunately, the list will be quite short. I have witnessed a single most unsettling event, which involved a cooperative congregation nonchalantly feasting on Eduardo’s guts and such. Though, I suppose 'feasting' may not be an appropriate description. Judging by my own non-digesting digestive system, I would warrant a guess that Eduardo’s flesh wasn’t torn apart for its nutritional value. Rather odd behavior, truly, as I’ve neither gorged myself on human flesh, nor felt compelled to do so.

However, it is important to note that Eduardo’s consumption was a collaborative effort; they did not push and shove, nor did they attempt to chew on one another. Do I trust what my eye beheld and simply search for the food without worry of attack? I mean, truthfully, besides the whole thing with Eduardo, one may saunter by here and there, but they’re generally fairly boring. Or was this a proper isolated incident–an accidental glitch of teamwork–and after rounding the corner and obscured from my vision, they snapped out of their funk and turned on one another. The strongest of the group plucks off the arm of the zombie closest to him and brandishing it like a meat sword, beats the entire group into a pulpy mass, then, standing atop the pile of his vanquished enemies, he howls into the sky in barbaric glory. Looking down upon his gory banquet, he resolves to devour the entirety of their corpses. Yes, this possibility is too plausible. I cannot proceed without a plan. At square one I will remain.
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