brains for breakfast

I feel awkward about starting the blog; posting a real post. I don't know where to start.
so. I'm going to start in the middle. right now, today.
zombies. that's what I've been thinking about.

the prowl began Monday morning. you think I'm kidding. I'm not. ok. so they're not real zombies. about eight-hundred people signed up to play an epic game of tag. humans armed with nerf guns fought off brain-hungry zombies looking to tag them.

a sudden change overcame campus. no, brains weren't really being eaten. astounding things started happening, however. the first encounter I had changed my status to zombie. that's what happens. you don't exactly get a second chance. I started running, realizing that this zombie was desperate to tag me. I was just another number to him. a statistic that no one would ever look at. kill number 3? 4? who knows. he was so intent on getting to me and once he did tag me, he smugly demanded my identity so he could claim the victory. c'est la vie. or rather ... c'est la mort. and so began my life as a zombie.

how is this a blessing anyway? well I promise it's there. secretly. I began to notice how little things can alter a friendship in a blink of an eye. suddenly, I wasn't invited to dinner because I was considered a "threat." in the game. I was a threat. real conversations ceased, because all we knew how to talk about was the game. story after story. each encounter had to sound more exciting than the last. I hated that. the adrenaline of running away exhilarated everyone. a new drug. (we don't even do drugs...) having died early, I simply sat back and watched my friends die off, one by one caught by the growing horde of zombies. I became an apathetic zombie, sickened by the serious comments about how one friend intended to kill another. real friendship didn't cease but the different dimensions of friends were certainly confusing... it's so interesting how a simple game can have such an astounding psychological effect!

I'm just grateful for real life. how sweet it is to be blessed with a real personality, with real friends, and my own train of thoughts and motivations. I am me and I wouldn't want it any differently. I know it's all fake, but the realities of it are a little frightening; they're intriguing.