The Zombie Apocalypse Effect

Riding a bus, I find myself staring at passing cars wondering “What type of car is the most ideal to survive horde of zombies?” then it hit me. I’m infected! I’m infected with the zombie-apocalyptic-age-mania virus!

Well, who isn’t? Left4dead, dawn of the dead, zombieland, return of the living dead, 28 days later, Shaun of the dead, the walking dead (which is now on the brink of starting their third season) and even Plants vs. Zombies kick-started this craze about the undead grazing your backyard—fought by dancing plants shooting peas, tearful walnuts, and exploding cherries and jalapenos, in search for “BRAAAAAAIIINS”. And now there’s this upcoming movie… WARM BODIES. Right. Thanks, Google… about a zombie version of Edward Cullen that would probably ruin my perfect image of zombies as Twilight had done with vampires.

Ammunitions, painkillers, sufficient food supply and health pack aren’t really the words I encounter in my everyday life. I used to lock my windows because I was afraid someone would try to burglarize our home and not because a multitude of literally brainless walking corpses would try to grab my ankle, rip off skin and gorge on my internal organs. I used to be easily grossed out in a sight of a dead rat ran over by a cab, but after overexposing myself from these eerie creatures, even if I walk across a decapitated mammal on the road gushing with blood and internal organs scattered in the ground, I’d probably just sidestep, cover my nose and be like, “meh”. Wait; perhaps I’d be alarmed that MAYBE somewhere nearby there’s a ravenous zombie wandering, muttering “BRAAAAAAIIINS” and I’m like a sitting duck out in the open.

But thanks to Rick Grimes’ tutorial, (spoiler alert, watch out!) I learned that [a] you can easily fool a zombie by rubbing internal organs from some rotten cadaver in the middle of an alley all over your body, walking slowly and blending in. Well, unless there’s a Howard Stern looking “walker” in the swarm of zombies. That one is really scrutinizing creature in whatever form he is. [b] Zombies, like the cast of Final Destination franchise are live version of happy tree friends’ characters. If you’re out of ammo, just make sure to hit the head, even a stick would come in handy. Skulls aren’t as hard as I once thought. [c] When you lose one of member of your crew in the middle of a zombie attack, (especially a kid) don’t try to find him/her, you’ll just waste a whole season, more people and ammunitions in that search only to find out she/ he is dead. Surprise, surprise. 

And then, there is my left4dead training [code name: Zimmer550] that taught me about the hierarchy of zombies. The average zombies, the totally disgustingly bloating boomer, the smoker, the hunter (which probably were comprised of parkour experts, Jackie chan wannabies and gymnasts in their past life), the witch (the zombie version of overly attached girlfriend), the tanker (which looks like the stone man in fantastic four and are probably the mutated and zombified WWE superstars)

Nuff said. It’s really a crazy world we live in. There are billions of possibilities. Who knows? Maybe in the parallel universe, this world we live in is ACTUALLY overrun by zombies where lives either my zombie or badass survivor version. Nah. Well, the thing about this craze that pulls us into it is its unrealistic nature. It’s never gonna happen but it felt like it has a possibility of happening in the so called “end time”, it’s more like fantasy mixed up with a little bit of reality.

Well, I guess I’d be ending this here. I’d just go outside to zombie-proof our house. Find a car… or a horse left unattended. Remember. Watch your back.

P.S.

We’re all infected.

Real life vs. Movie Scenes

I always wonder: How awesome could it be if my life is like my favorite movie, TV series or sitcom? You know, with those ear-catching soundtracks playing in the background that suggests something big is going to happen so you must keep your mouth shut and tune in. Where slack days are just short good ten seconds flashes and everything happening in my life is interesting enough to draw people’s attention to me, tears escape my eyelids and roll down my cheeks because of something really heart wrenching and not just because I accidentally rubbed my eyes with after I put on some Vicks vapor rub in my runny nose. Where I take the lead role that incidentally comes out with all these witty puns that keep other people from talking. And when I say something very funny in an awkward situation there would be these recorded laughter, cheering and clapping in the background to back me up. 

But apparently, life isn’t like the movies. AC/DC and Foster the People don’t play in the background whenever I walk down the street wearing clothes that I think are dazzling and look damn cool on me. Well, not unless I put on my earphones and listen to my playlist—which wouldn’t count because I’d be the only one hearing it and would see how amazing and badass it would look like. My comments aren’t always clever… or articulate. I am not as hyper-verbal as Emma Stone or Robert Downey. No. Not even close. The people I meet in my everyday life don’t suddenly break into musical numbers with other people just minding their own business in the background then get back to their normal lives as soon as the song ends as if nothing happened. There aren’t always romantic scenes, and when there is, I can’t help myself from ruining it just because I find it too cheesy. There isn’t a narrator that can explain to me what on the earth is happening whenever I lost track or miss an episode in my life. There aren’t recaps, no encore telecasts. When I reminisce, the flashbacks aren’t as accurate or vivid, and my everyday life isn’t as eventful or dramatic as Keeping Up with the Kardashians—which, just to be clear, I DON’T really watch… Well, there’s just couple of times, I guess? Anyway, as I was saying, my life isn’t as awe-inspiring as the chick-flicks and drama series. I don’t even think that I look half as good as my favorite character. Duh. Belo didn’t even have the chance to touch my skin. (Wow. That just sound so bitchy) but the thing is, life don’t have to be always incredibly awesome. It doesn’t always feel relatable to other people. Emotions aren’t well rehearsed; the lines aren’t well fabricated and memorized; the dialogues don’t always sound witty; Monologues in an empty room often sounds creepy; I’m the only one hearing those thoughts in my head; and even if the people I talk to don’t follow the script I plan in my head, the camera won’t stop rolling even how often or how loud I say “CUT! DAMMIT! I SAID CUUUUT YOU FREAKING @&^*$!!!”

In the real version of my life, my body is actually made up of bones, muscles and billions of cells and not titanium, springs, soft cushion and all other stuffs. I don’t think I would survive a twenty storey fall just because I slid down a very long red fabric that magically appears out of nowhere or because I accidentally grabbed a rope midair and rappel my way down and where window-smashing won’t hurt my skin. I’m a definitely destructible creature. I bleed easily, way too easy, I must say. My clothes actually get dirty after I roll in mud-spattered road and they don’t magically dry up after two minutes of walking. Plus, I’m not as stupidly brave as those people in horror movies who walks straight to the kitchen when they hear strange noises without even caring to turn on the lights. What? Do they have some sort of night vision? I see my life in a first person point of view, which is of course a very subjective way in looking in life. There aren’t special effects; no editing, no take two’s or director’s cut. There isn’t this overwhelming sequence of events that leads to the climax.

But the good thing is that after that climax, we get to see what happens next, the awkwardness, awesomeness and all that. It doesn’t just automatically flash to the next scene. Life is spontaneous; there isn’t always a well structured plot. And if there is, we always have an option not to follow it. That is why real life is fun. We get to enjoy, suffer and feel every bit of it. We are our own director, playwright, cast and crew. It is unremitting. We don’t always have to cut it short for a matter of two hours of entertainment. Movies are just second rate trying hard copycat versions of the real life situations. Life cannot be pirated or downloaded in .avi or .mp4 format. And the best thing is: Life is always seen in HD and is way better than digital 3D.

A little introduction

Oh. Hi there.

Welcome to my universe. You read it right, I OWN this place. (Yeah. Try saying that. It feels freaking awesome.) Please, take a seat. Make yourself comfortable. Do you want some tea? Soda? Coffee?—Yah.  Apparently we’re out of stock. Water’s pretty nasty, too. 

Anyway, I’m Aly. And you are…?

Oh, what a beautiful name you have. But I guess you wouldn’t mind if I call you ‘buddy’?

Alright, BUDDY. As if you have a choice. Probably as you reach this point you’re either thinking why the heck am I reading this rubbish nonsense? Well, it’s either you have nothing else to do and you’re randomly shuffling through webpages and stumbled in here (99% true). Or you were apparently fascinated and intrigued by the title of this blog and everything about it (1% possible). 

But either way, I would love it if you’d stay for a little longer and keep reading. Let’s talk about anything and everything under the sun. Oh right, no. scratch that one. Let’s not limit ourselves here. The universe is pretty interesting topic, too. Do you believe in parallel universe? Well, I do. But I also believe in the tooth fairy. Yeah, the creepy version. 

Okay. I’m going to stop here. Since I’m becoming very random. Well, basically that’s really my aim here. This is not a fashion blog, food blog, gaming blog, backpacking diaries or whatever specific. This is for all the random minded people who love to talk about STUFF. Stuff that might not be very useful or practical to know, but is really fun and interesting to brood over. I promise I’ll try to keep you interested. (But please, don’t be too harsh. I’m new here. (Nah. Screw that. Say whatever you want to say. I’ll listen. Or should I say read it?)

And I also promise to keep it random.

Ciao. Enjoy your meal.