Life Lessons

It's in zombie genre surely, even though, like in some zombie media, they are more aptly called "Infected" , like with the flu in Shaun of the Dead, the Green Flu in Left For Dead.. etc etc.. Humanity is the evil, ex-human, blood thirsty creatures, seeking anything to take their rage out on... Obviously, they aint just "zombie", right

But it has become ingrained into the genre, and may I say, it does well to fit in it. It provides a sorts of commentary, I feel like, or you could imagine it does, which Is common for the films of undead, the risen,,, eh eh, it has this essence to it, Zombie Essence..

The infected, they have the Rage Virus, CAUSED BY HUMANITY, some environmentalists, or or, environment preservationists, ah ah ists, animal rights activists!! you know, they're these people who think they're doin right by breakin into a lab where monkies,chimps, are subject to constant violent television,,the scientist(s) were researching what creates anger, and they isolated this specific thing, and when pairing the thing with an ebola delivery system, it mutated hella crazy... man, and that's the rage virus, spreads only through primates..

This film brought this idea of fast, violent, volatile creatures, it was a turning point in the zombie genre.. Many representations of the undead, the infected, the zombie, would reflect this archetype, this form.. the connections between zombie and infected , it's common, aye? Something fast, something angry... uncontrollable...

Perhaps later on this speed and anger turned zombie films into nothing more than action films, but for 28 Days Later, it was something different

This version has sound onnnn And the other didnt for some reaspn LO SIENTO but i may as well repost

Tuesday January 14th 2025 - On The Subject Of KondemningYourSoul / Love Fool

Somehow I'm kind of tearing up, Iim suprised surpsid , ive been sweating all day, and maybe my eyes were a little wet over the course, im suprised im not dehydrated, or maybe I am.. I'm a sickly sort.. I'm a lovefool, I'm really head under heels and congealed blood and fat. My head aches constant, I get some sense of terrible overwhelming pain, flashing of tormenting images in the brain, things I want to see , wnd things I don't, like I'm young again, the mind drifts to places I wish to not go. I constant miss that girl again, I don't understand myself. I miss her , And i miss Her, and then I miss you, and I miss me. Taking a nap, taking a close at the eyes no longer can help, if ever, for these things chase me everywhere I go. Dreams strike at my soul, sickness plagues my peace. Beautiful women, purity in faces, professional curiosity and improfessional unprofessional nonconfessional gaze and impressionable chants of love and taste, hungering and loathing.. My body jolts against the uncomfortabilities of my own skin, I'm no better I'm no worse. I'm in haze, old me return, new me resolve, retribution of spirit, fall short, fall falls short, losing my time .. The tantalizing land of wonder und dreams, drape of shadow which follow my every move, nothing now seems so bright or magnificent, 15:50, put down in mind, wake up 5 hours later when I was busy wishing I never would have. I don't feel up to par, five strokes from the goal and fifty yards from my heart, watch it walk away and feel self slip like some kind of evilous number.. my head hurts still and it's a day later , i feel unreal , UGH . This is the kind of thing called dissociating, this isnt some playground fucking term. This is Hell, this is horrible. I want to be me , I want to feel me, and I can't do either. This isn't fun. This isnt hashtag hash it out with a friend or family, I can't explain it, I can't fix it. Therapy couldnt cure this sickpy feeling, I know because I'm not a fool, and I know the kinds of things these cognitive behavioral bullshit shrinks pull. I have much to write, but it doesn't come out right. I'm having stiflings in the work, the month long stiflings, of the dystopian future and such. 33.8431° S, 151.2843° E Take a leap across the gap in my heart and head. I feel like I'm you, how many times must I write it, before I shall forget I ever knew a relation between you and I? 26-DEEPJOY-88 bpm Ramble and rate, the thimble thunder and debate, sixty six percent six feet under such sexual sequences of soulless abandon, work and work keep on working and living in a place you dont love. Educate me and birth me here, force me to die here, I want to die to take myself somewhere else. I slip through your arms, slip through my own hands, slip like to clay, but all over my arms. Compress and say , Oh dear do I hope to find someone dear some day. I hate the way you look at me, I hate the way you talk to me, pain is all that wakes this ugly fool, half a woman half a hound, good for nothin men all throughout my life, and I'm something half-pint short from just another one of them. Sweating like a pig und living like one too, ayuda me, por favor, lo siento por mi poor favours

Love feels like some kind of lie, for I fail to feel it more often than not. I said I wanted to go to a funeral only because I hate my home and hate this scenery, I feel only slightly bad for the natural passage of what we call time, this thing we call aging, the final passage of this horrid survival, this horrid life. Put on a sad face, or a mourning one, block out the face of multitudinous facial warpings, the faces of a face of another, How can I say how much you mean? When I know not what that might mean, what do you mean? And so I wish I knew, struggle and stry, stray and strawberry, I like to imagine I once knew the taste of you, but I know the truth, that I know not even of how you smell, no fragrance nor scent, not even sweat nor stench.. I pretend instead I may have once felt your blood, and I do so with my own, with my pen, it belongs not to me, and neither do you. This world is not ours, and we are not long for it, sometimes I hope we meet again, in someone else, in ourselves... But I can't be sure I will ever get my own flesh back.. maybe you could say th3 same. I won't pretend I'm you, but I won't pretend either that my mind doesnt trick me, doesnt lead me to wonder sometimes if I'm not so unlike you. Does it get better for women like you? Did it? And how about fools like me? If it never gets better for you, then surely I cannot expect it either.. 10:47 January 15th 2025

Abrasion from something soft like snow, I slip in the glass and get a beautiful tiny dash in skin from rubbing across cold sand...

I search for flesh and here i get "human fleshlight" and other such garbage.... You're fucking disgusting , all of you, I was once a human, but these days no longer, thats why Im in a headache so constantly, I'm become something less man, and more animal , they couldnt define me properly in their statistics and borders, for I am not one of them, and their words cannot so truthfully describe me. I go to search human , oh no, Humiliation? Are you fucking kidding me? Sissy, kink, cuck, cunt, cock, fuck, cum , dirty words and dirty expressions for which in some part I wholly wish for you to express, be free, but.... sex is something of an animal, and In my mind It's wrong to be an animal, or to be human. It's all the worst things, sex, temptations, I swear I sound like some lover of christ, but I love not, and I believe not

I'm backwards and forwards, slipping like one in some sanity bathing funk

Rancid taste, sticks to the tongue

Gumi

🍀💚🍀‧₊˚ ⋆｡°✩˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱グミ ‧₊˚ ⋆｡°✩🍀💚🍀

How cute

went to popmart and a cat cafe with my sister yesterday and she bought this fluffy cat blind box and brought it home and her cat keeps walking around with it in her mouth and grooming it like she thinks shes its mother

I believe I am dealing with the withdrawal, or I simply feel shite, but I reckon that's enough of that. It's uninteresting, and I think there was something I saw in trainspotting that I amplified the horror of in my delusion. I don't like it. I have to watch the movie over again... maybe in a weeks time. It was horrible. I didn't expect that at all. The tragedies of this media.. I didn't know the movie had such dep8ction of heroin use, guess I didn't know the true scope of things. Based off some novel by Irvine Welsh, I need to read that now. It's now clear to me that this movie is more than some comedic stretch of imagination. These are real horrors. It isn't gonzo journalism like Fear And Loathing in Las Vegas. (The film was good buut,.. i still need to read the book). I don't know, I feel very sick. I'm taking a break. I'll have one of my writings wrapped up in full soon. 35 pages it looks like, I don't know. Maybe I should let it go on longer, or maybe that's just one chapter ..

In a world of evil, games often do not allow you to be an evil

Medias , especially these interactive ones, they should allow us the freedom of mistake , of losing and winning, and not just in some half-batch particularly programmed way, , We should be able to observe, to become, to feel, true evil, true loss

Like a book, like a movie , what's with the hesitation, spit up the walls which cover us from truth of horror..