Plight of the Living Ted

I sit on the couch and watch images that do nothing for me. The cameras deliver a new angle every few seconds but tell the same old story. Isn't that what you're supposed to do when you can't sleep - stare at a foolish box until you can't stand it anymore? Not much else to do in the middle of the night. If I go for a walk someone will probably call the cops on me again. I turn off the television and just exist for a while.

The expression goes "Life sucks and then you die." I know something worse. They call me lucky because I came back in one piece...sort of. Zoe Hendricks died in a horrific boating accident on Mirror Lake a number of years ago; the propeller chewed her to bits. When she woke up and hobbled into Murphy's General Store it was like the end of the world. Poor Zoe didn't know what the fuss was all about until she caught her reflection in the floor length mirror by the clothing racks. She just about lost what was left of her mind right then and there. They have her locked up with the rest of them over at the State Hospital in Greenfield.

Ever see a George Romero zombie movie? Yeah? Well, let me tell you, he doesn't know shit. Don't get me wrong; his movies are classics and very entertaining. It's just not the way it works. No satellite full of radiation came to our town from outer space. We didn't start shambling around, moaning and trying to eat people. We just came back, simple as that. To be fair to George, how could he have known what would happen? No one else did.

The biggest problem was that life kept moving while we were in the ground, and there wasn't much to come back to. Everyone except me had been dead for awhile and that wasn't so great, either. Needless to say, no one looked their best. I wasn't buried for too long but that rope sure did a number on my boyish good looks. How ironic is that? Ted, the one person who actually wanted to die, gets to live again while the rest climb the walls of their padded cells. Life just isn't fair.

Some day I might write everything down, publish my "memoirs" as they say. I doubt it would be good reading, though. Man kills himself, inexplicably comes back to life, and is bored to shit. The End. I guess for now I will just keep on going, alive on the outside and dead on the inside. Come to think of it, I know a lot of people like that, surviving but not really living, struggling to make it through each day. Maybe I don't have it so bad after all.