Zombie

A door closes and I wonder if I am really alive. A hundred wise old men tell me that to breath is to live, but our definitions of life seem as different as a voice and its song. I question if I have ever inhaled the world. I question if I have ever seen the diamond in the dark.

Although I do not anticipate that wishes will bear fruit of the sweetest nature, I found solace in knowing that the seeds of hope are planted in soil too deep to unearth. It is in these fleeting products of the imagination that I place the greatest wager, as to gamble on any other stake would seem far too insignificant. But should I triumph against the odds, should I defy the motion of the world at large, would the winnings afford me any more than an illusion of happiness?

As a child I fantasized of life's great secret. But as all children are prone, I too was guilty of seeing the world through such wonderfully ignorant eyes. "To love is to live!" I coined unwaveringly, basking in the sweet elegance of the phrase. For many years I adamantly followed this mantra, and for many years I was led as straight and true as the most honest of broken compasses. To love, however, I now understand is not to live. Though many who wonder the streets of love still cling to such a wayward guide, I long ago left that path. Love is not the soul. Love is not the morning kiss, nor the melting heart; love is not life congratulating itself on a job well done. I wish with all my heart it was. Instead, science has shown love to be no more than the not-so-romantic matrimony of molecule and receptor. It is Biology that spins the silent truth of love, illustrating flaws and tearing down propaganda from behind closed doors. And though my body pleads a most appealing defense, with the utmost pain I refuse its temptation. I cannot gamble on love... for it pays dividends in a currency as beautiful as it is worthless.

So, I instead place my stake on the smallest corner of life's roulette wheel. The odds? Insurmountable. The payout? Untold. The price...? Absolute. Such is the cost of hope's sweet and fleeting embrace. Hope is all I have now. The great wheel of time hurtles forward upon its axis and I stand idle with an empty gaze towards the future.

I breath without breathing.
I see without seeing.
I love without living.
I hope.

I am the zombie.