Graveyard

I was in a graveyard last night. I wish I could remove the memory from my mind. Yet it lingers like a ghost on the forefront of every thought.

I mean I thought I was in a necropolis when I entered. I never found out what the place was actually called. Some say it was the holy wood, or perhaps the remodeled york? I never believed those conspiracy theorists.

But the skeletons, the aliens, the creatures... I don't know what to call them. Are not of our kind; and I hope they won't ever be.

They were existing as anyone would. Yet they looked queer- other aliens would be able to attest to that. Bones jutting out of their skin. Rib bones, pelvic bones, bones I didn't even know existed till I saw them on these creatures. Faces taut, eyes bulging out. Skeletons, thats what they were.

These aliens weren't wearing much clothes. It hadn't occurred to me before- but now that I was staring at the bones, I realized nothing was covering them. It was almost a contest here. See how much bone to show, then flaunt it to everyone.

What happened to dignity? What happened to self respect? I guess those are traits that belonged to a previous generation. Not to this liberal, modernized one.

I felt awkward being there. Me, with an excessive amount of clothes and curves to boot. I was an interloper on this graveyard's personal hell. But that didn't stop me from noticing more.

The corpses were walking bent over, as if walking through an invisible snowstorm. They were staring downwards, as if the ground was more appealing than the sky.

Scrutinizing led me to the realization that they were staring at something in their hands. It was a dense bulb. Fingers were having seizures attempting to hold it.

Instead of staring at the sun, they were staring at their own personal bulb.

Nobody was talking to each other. The streets were silent. People (honestly, I don't know what else to call them) were walking all over the place yet no words were emitted. As if the grinch had stolen their voice-boxes. Eye contact was a foreign concept to them. They looked like robots, each absorbed in their own world.

Communication became a necessary part of their life, but not an essential one. This infuriated me instantaneously

Music broke the silence. It was coming from a few blocks away. The aliens didn't notice the sound and continued on their voluntarily-chosen solitary ways. Were they all deaf? I didn't have time to figure it out as I turned and followed the music.

It was an intoxicating rap. The words incohesive except for the curse words which matched the beat of the drum's instrumental. The closer I got, the louder it got until it reached a deafening tone.

The music overflowed out of a rundown shack. At this point, it was so loud that I couldn't hear anything else. Not that there was something else to listen to besides it. Instead of walking in, I gazed in through a shattered window.

It took me a minute to actually realize what I was staring at. Chairs everywhere, yet no one was sitting. People. Emaciated bodies pressed up against each other. Lying on tables. Dirty promises. Flirting. Drinking. Poles. Fighting. Dancing. Whispers. Sex. Music

Bodies became instruments, objects, distractions, obstacles. It was blocking them from their desire yet they needed it at the same time. Love and HAte in the same place. I stared in shock.

This was their twisted idea of socializing. Having a body pressed up against you until you can't breathe or think for yourself. I was disgusted.

I had seen enough. I rubbed my eyes and walked away.

I wanted to leave this graveyard, but I had lost the way. I was approached a skeleton to help me but she couldn't hear me. As I looked carefully I realized she had earplugs in. Then it dawned on me why they did not notice the music blaring from that shack.

Her earplugs blocked her out of this world, so that she could maintain her world, She, along with every other alien, blocked out everything so that they could stay connected with the pathetic world that they had created on those bulbs. Anger coursed in my veins. 

Didn't these people realize what they were missing out on?

I came to the conclusion that I was indeed at a cemetery. Although everyone here had a pulse, they had died a long time ago. They died the day they were born and were trained to stare down at a bulb, and not up at the sun. They became mute, ignorant, emaciated skeletons waiting for the day that they will be placed underground. Using people, drugs, and money for their own pleasure to pass the time away. They weren't living, they were dying... Each and every one of them. I was disgusted with myself for knowing such a group of creatures.

I never knew humanity could stoop so low.

And I realized my role for the night. They were walking graves and I was to be their mourner, crying over the life they could have lived, Tears streaked my cheeks as I mourned for a forgotten generation. Forgotten before they even had a chance. The whole thing was lame but I couldn't stop. 

There was no sun, so I couldn't tell how much time had passed with my crying. After that sob was let out I ejected a shaky breath as my vision cleared up.

I never learned the way out of this necropolis. I gave up trying to get help and decided that I would just sit this one out. (Maybe this was a bad dream and I would wake up soon in a cold sweat while breathing hard.)

I sat on the bumpy sidewalk. Confused I stared at the bumps. They seemed to be making patterns, then it him me, they were handprints. What were these for? Criminal records? How could a skeleton so fragile and weak do something wrong?

The ground was cold. I brought my knees up to my chest to warm up and protect myself from such an alien environment.  Empty bottles and cigarette packages were strewn all around me.

Guilt washed over me. I felt so bad for all the children that grew up in such a sex-centered, isolated, anti-social environment. The guilt was passive as I could do nothing about it. The thoughts of this place killed me.

So I let my mind shift to different thoughts; and within time, I wasn't in the graveyard anymore. I was swirling and flying within myself.

I blinked. The cemetery was gone. I was laying in bed; and as expected, I was in a cold sweat and breathing hard. It was a nightmare. That's it. Trying to reassure myself.

Man, am I grateful our world is not like that.