- My coffee overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
Rain drenched Big Sur coastline. Soupy slate blue sea smashing against the craggy, fog covered edge of California. Smeared across Esalen are crowds. Milling quietly to and fro.
Nervous energy in the air, but it could be just me. It probably is just me. Tried to write in my Dollar Store journal when the sun started to bust through a cloud, but got zip. It started raining again. Lightly but wetly. Wet ink on the damn page. The place has a full on communal, spiritual feel – which Google warned me about.
Crashing surf is all over the place. So noisy. Relax on into it. Go ahead. A man in a paisley smoking jacket with gray hair took up a hula hoop on the bright green lawn at the edge of the Huxley Building and dropped it just as quickly while couples wandered aimlessly in Columbia coats holding coffees. Another older man with a graying pony tail dressed like Clint Eastwood from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. A young dude in a Hawaiian shirt and driving cap turned backward playing an acoustic guitar to his Macbook. I sat a few tables away from him, which may have been a mistake. Time to go back to my room for some beef jerky. This place is far out. Maybe too much for me.
Patrick Whitehurst 
I think everything will turn out okay for you, but I’m not so sure about your coffee.
The coffee was thankfully potent. The bed also had a down comforter, thankfully. And the rice cereal came with blueberries.
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies too?
Do gluten free chocolate cake skies and rainy eucalyptus count? Harder to sing…
Absolutely, and I’m singing it right now!
And I’m looking for spoons to play.
I know where I can procure a harmonica.
And a washer board?
I think an Appalachian Dulcimer would fit nicely into this band.
Agreed. And a beat box solo.
Oh yeah. That about completes this extravaganza. Too bad the world will never know our musical genius.
The YouTube videos would have totally gone viral.
They still may do so!
Only if I come up with a sad backstory for myself.
If anyone can do it, you can.
The blogger who lost his way?
I see the emergence of a theme, and I surmise a lot of people will relate to it.
Bloggers who rise from the dead? And the bloggers who fight them? Bloggers who write from the dark side, but have twin children who blog from the good side?
I’m kind of liking the blogger zombie thingy. Zombloggies.
Poems about zombie life, love, and the pursuit of brains. Zombloggie haiku and zombloggie photo essays.
Yes YEs YES indeed!
Middle-aged zombie
Blogging through vast lifelessness
Zombloggers rule worlds
How to color coordinate your dirty, ripped zombie attire – creating an open concept design in your apocalyptic hovel, and zombie heart health. But middle-aged zombies, that’s where the gold can be mined.
Right on. I’m thinking in addition to the open concept design, Feng Shui for the apocalyptic hovel.
Like how to face your collection of eyeballs toward the rising sun?
yeah yeah and like how to place a candle in the south to create a more destructive cycle!
And the direction your yellowish, greenish, feet with the missing toenails should aim when sleeping?
Totally and and like how to reap auspicious rewards by walking with unbent knees and outstretched arms away from the rising sun.
It might make chasing survivors down tricky. They would have to use a circuitous path to their next meal.
I think Zombies should have a special compass for finding humans.
Maybe the compasses could have a special compartment for keeping their collection of skin tags.
Totally, or maybe there is some big Zombie map somewhere that houses pins and skin tags of the kill locations.
With flavor descriptions on sticky notes, some highlighted in marker, off to the side.
uh huh and a big sign overhead that reads “Zombie Domination Map.” Or maybe it just says, “Zombination.”
With the ZombVeganation getting their own little chunk of the pie.
ha ha you won this round!
Yes!