The Thing

"I'm just driving. And thinking.

There's a thought for you. There's a thing out there, a thing you have, a thing that helps you think. Only some people have them. It goes on and on. The symmetry, the flashing lights, out here on the road. That's when you see them.

It's dusky. The cars drive by, one by one, and you see them go by. But there's something wrong. There's not a thought, not a feeling, just a strange buzzing. And things go on. But you notice. And you surely do.

I don't know how they got that way. The ones that don't have them, these things. It's like something has shut their mind down, created them as zombies, with no thought or sentiment left. They just go by, plain as a breeze. And you don't rile them up, or a shitstorm happens. Just don't. Just let them go by.

I've seen them. The little houses, with glowing lights. They just sit there, idling in its glow, not letting a thought go by them. Because they have none. They just sit there and stare. You can see them, from the road, but it's not so much like this. You have to look carefully.

I wonder about it. Why sit and stare? There's no point to it. I've seen what they become. Like screen death occurs, and they just go down like that. Sitting, staring. Sitting, staring. And they just want more. And they just go on and on like that. Shoveling it into their faces. Gluttonous. With no mind or thoughts left.

Like screen zombies.

Oh, there's a little left of that imitation. When they see something on the screen, and later they know how to imitate it. It's not so high. They just pick out a character and sell it, whatever it is. Just don't mind them. Just know it's imitation. And it seems like they have a braindead mind. Like I said earlier, it's a car, it's a road. Just let them go by.

There isn't much else to it. We have a thing, they don't. A thing in our mind, that knows it's there. A thing that helps us think, and feel, and know we're alive. They don't have that. Screen zombies. That's all there is to it. Don't let them rile you up. Remember, it's just imitation.

I'll go back to my driving. Watching the cars go by, wondering what's in them. Thinking, feeling, as I have a right to do. It's still dusky. I think I'll enjoy my night."