No sign of life

Its mystifiying sometimes as to just how out of touch we are with ourselves sometimes. Just how out of touch we become with this world until you can't even tell that someone has just slapped you across the face. It's like some sick and twisted variantation of, "Invasion of the Body Snatchers," where people just randomly disapear and are replaced by duplicates that have no emotion.

Went out one night just because, and couldn't help but notice a strange amount of people preparing for something or other that night. To many people this would be nothing strange to think about, but I've seen how this town is around 2 A.M., and it's empty; so part of me wondered what we're all these people doing here tonight of all days, and what we're they all preparing for? I was out trying to clear my senses of Zombie's smell, look, and just everthing that Zombie embodies for the uptenth time this month, and I couldn't help but look into the crowd and think as to just how many people where just like him.

How many people in the room had fallen under the same spell that had affect Zombie, to where they were nothing but complete and total automations. Repeating themselves over and over and being completly oblivious to thier own ineptitude at being cognizant. So ubelievable uncognizant that they change thier paths at even so much as someone's wisper, like watching a hypnotist play with thier volunteers. Such a presumptous blood sack that even in death they will probably try to go about thier same repetition until they realize in how many untold hours later that some greater force has since blocked thier movement.