Closet Intellectual

Joseph the Zombie

I’m dead. I died on the 31st of August 2012. I was involved in a car crash, my mum, dad, brother and sister was in the car with me. They all survived. If you are dead, you say, then how are you telling this story? Well it all started 2 months after I died. The world was getting weird. Planes were falling out of the sky, people were disappearing, children never stopped crying and they were reports of alien abduction in every country. The president was shot dead at a conference and from that point on, everyone knew that something big was about to happen.

I was busy turning in my grave when I heard footsteps coming from above. I do not know nor have I ever discovered who was creeping around my grave at 3’oclock in the morning. But it was scary I felt as though it would have been my sister or my brother but that couldn’t be possible, they would be asleep at this time. I felt the oxygen coming in a bit more and me being able to move more freely. I knew then that someone was digging and digging and digging the dirt off the top of my grave. Then that’s when I heard a creaking noise; and I was certain, someone was breaking into my coffin. It was a man who, a part from smelling like cheese, had crazy hair. He said things in a language I was sure was from Africa then poured a liquid from a phial over my body. He replaced the coffin top, re-earthed me then left without hesitation. Over night I moved and shook then found out I had the ability to move my hands and legs. And I was no longer in my head I could actually make noises and sounds from my mouth. With great excitement I knew that I was alive and broke out of my coffin (which was badly put back together).

I felt as though I’d been asleep for a thousand years. My bones were cracking and I had a splitting headache. I looked at myself and saw what I had become – a zombie with skin like I had been eaten alive and I reeked of sweat and regret. Regret of what exactly? I was soon to find out, I was sure of it. The cemetery was dark and cold and the air was moist. I could see others like me in the distance. Could his person he revived me from the dead have done this to everyone else? And that’s when I realised it was not just us in the cemetery who had been turned into a zombie; it was the whole world – or at least the surrounding area. I knew what this was and when I was a human I was apprehensive but happy about this very moment. This was a, nay, the, zombie apocalypse and who knew I’d be a part of it? Suddenly I didn’t care about me dying or being dead or anything else in the world. All I cared about was making friends and being the best zombie I could ever be. I noticed another zombie coming towards me in the midst of my epiphany. In this story, the undead speak English. Who would have thought huh? The unnamed zombie was getting closer so I decided to say hello and attempted to wave then I remembered that I wasn’t very capable in doing so and in the action, my arm fell off. Stupid zombie limbs.

Hello” said the unknown zombie.

My name is Joseph, what’s yours?” I replied.

Sam. Or at least that’s what my name was before I died. The others call me Raaahgu. So what’s your zombie name?

My zombie name…” I said a little uncertain

Don’t worry about it. You’ll get one soon enough”

So… zombie apocalypse huh? Who would have thought?”

Yes I know but it’s awesome isn’t it?”

Yeah it is” I replied.

Sam and I decided to leave the cemetery to explore the rest of the city. To tell you the truth the place was in tatters. Buses were turned over, dead or unconscious bodies were laid out on the ground and the stench was horrendous; it smelt like rotting flesh and unwashed genitalia. I realised my pace as I saw Sam trudging along in front of me. As zombies, running will result in our flesh falling off and our limbs breaking so I guess it was smart to keep trudging. We came across some others zombies by a broken down supermarket and said hello they sort of waved back. Well as much as their arms would let them.

Hello, what are your names?” said one of the unknown zombies

I’m Joseph and he’s Sam” I replied

Nice. I’m Simon and these are the rest. They don’t speak English” one of the other zombies started making a noise that wasn’t pleasant. “He’s saying hello”


what?” replied Simon

You speak zombie dude”?

Simon managed a face palm and said quietly, “moving on”

Shortly after Simon told us about how he died around a thousand years ago and has only been a zombie for around two years (I didn’t know zombies could keep track of time), a loud bang came from inside the supermarket and after a while one could smell the faint scent of burned flesh. Suddenly, we noticed ash falling from the sky. Or so we thought it was. Turns out that there were a bunch of humans in the supermarket hiding out and a bunch of zombies have just been blown up and what we though was ash was actually zombie residue. Yuck. After we had found a place to hide out for a bit (behind a bush), Simon told us how the zombies play a game called ‘Dodge The Bullet’ which requires the zombies, humans and a sawed-off shotgun.

How it is played really is simple. You get in the way of the humans and you try not to get shot in the head. Body, good. Head, bad. Capisce?

Awesome!” exclaimed Sam

Excuse me!” I protested “I’m already dead I don’t want to die again! And permanently this time“

Anyway… so Sam you ready?” asked Simon

What… what now” said Sam? Suddenly he wasn’t so enthusiastic about this.

joseph, you ready?”

No Simon. Just no.” I replied

Great so we’re all set then. And one more thing- don’t speak English you’ll freak them out and they’ll run away making the game not so fun so I’m going to give you a crash course on how to speak zombie. They don’t understand it so I’ll teach you a few words and you just have to repeat them over and over even though they don’t make sense. So, first things first – raahhh. It means raahhh. Basically. Humans understand that one. It’s a child-under-the-sheet-halloween-ghost kind of thing. I…”

I couldn’t keep a serious face on (as if my zombie face wasn’t comical enough) but I continued to listen.

“… like this next one It’s simple: arghhhgurahhh. It means ‘I’m going to eat your face off’ so you can just say those two and…”

I burst into hysterical zombie laughter. “dude! You have got to be kidding me”

I could tell that Simon had had enough of my crap. “shut up joseph. Okay let’s do this”

We zombie walked to the nearest supermarket where we heard that loud explosion from before. We made noises and spoke angry zombie and we heard some of the humans scream and a gunshot. We were entering the supermarket now on the hunt for humans. In a matter of seconds it was game on. We heard more gunshots and surprisingly we were able to run really fast. The humans came out of hiding and were shouting profanity at us. We all dispersed into different directions. “die you undead foul unhumans” said one human. I got close to one human and started clobbering at their heads. Then I bit him on his arm and he screamed “Sarah! I need a bit of help here” all of a sudden, an overweight lady of about 30 came charging from the sweets and biscuit aisle with an AK-47 she shouted “get off my husband you naked mummy” and fired shots around my chest. I remembered that I only had one arm and just as I did, my arm got shot off and I fell to the floor. The man got up and ran away with the lady called Sarah and disappeared into the drinks aisle.

I started to get up and I trudged along to see if I could find Simon and Sam. I couldn’t. there was too much blood and dead bodies everywhere. I was getting the hang of the game so far no one I knew had got shot in the head but not for long. I heard crying coming from around the corner and ran towards it. It was a little boy of about five. I instantly thought of biting him but then I remembered my brother and it all just came back to me. I stayed still for too long. I had not paid attention to my surrounding. Then all I head was “JOSEPH LOOK OUT!” I heard two piercing sniper shots. And the third? Went straight through my zombie brain. And that was the end of me.

After all the humans were dead Simon and Sam were still alive they realised I was gone and mourned the way zombies did. I do not know nor was it ever discovered who shot me that day. I just guess it was fate and I deserved to be put to rest. And permanently this time.

National Coming Out Day

i almost forgot its #nationalcomingoutday. dear straight friends, are you straight ? you sure ? come out the fucking closet please. i heard there are monsters in there but idk you know? i could be wrong. id just like to say that coming out was a huge step for me and im just one more in the trans community. it was hard but ive never felt better for doing it. for those who came out today just remember that you are worth it, you are important, you are b-e-a-utiful and you are loved and im always going to be there for you all. in the day of national coming out id like to reach out to those with trans, gay, lesbian and bisexual friends. forward them to me because i need me some lgbtq friends in my life. if you know any other ftm’s let them know that leonard is here for them. and lastly if coming out to your family is hard but you wish to be out to at least someone, come out to me. its better than the closet and like i can give out binders, packers, condoms, lube, love and friendship. that will be all.

Tuesday 30th September 2014

After school: I can feel the relapse approaching. All my apparent friends are perverted therapists in more ways than one. That being said, I do not just jeer at others or my peers without looking in the mirror simultaneously. Thoughts of negative thoughts. Negative thoughts of thoughts altogether – should we be all together?  Are we the social creatures that is said we should be? Why? Why should I spend my time trying to be a part of society instead of just accepting and acknowledging that I am a stranger – the earliest recorded kind – one who belongs to another country; (planet) an alien. I do not acknowledge, thus, suicidal. If I did I would be killed. It could be a homo/hetero erotic desire for humans that I encounter. But I still feel like an outsider and everyone else has learned the art of psychological penetration.

coming out

life is a journey. I myself have made the longest one and to think how far ive come its just amazing. Ive waited a long time for this and I wish it wasnt true because it would make life so much easier. I dont know I think sometimes I ask myself who cares ? Will the people who matter to me most care ?. Ive been through hell. My mental health went south because of it I lost friends family loved ones and it hurts because people hate when your fake yet they cant take it when your being real. After so much confusion I can finally say it. And with great apprehension I can say that I am transgender and it feels good to let out yet im afraid of what may come my way. I always tried to cover up but the truth is ive always felt like this. Always known that ive been a boy all along. Crying every day when having to face a body that I feel doesnt belong to me. I… I hate myself. Just got out of hospital but part of me still wants to die. But im also happy because now I cant be fake anymore I want the world to know that im done hiding. So where do I go from here ?. Therapy, testosterone ?… I will conquer this. On my own if I have to. Ive always said that if I ever became sure of myself and told others then id have to die. So… call me Leonard

How do you feel (4/7/14)

I feel like impurity. I’m no longer innocent, I’m lost without a cause. I’m liar and a cheat and I am disobedient. For reasons I’m too ignorant to recollect; for reasons I’m not worth to even check. an empty abyss, there is ground in an abyss, though my heart and brain feels like they have a gaping hole, making me feel less than whole. I’m an incompetent complication, to get love I must feel love and be willing to accept love but I couldn’t detect love if it had bitten me on the nose or stabbed me in the chest. I feel like a car that’s run out of fuel but keeps going. I feel like my body is being eating alive and I’m dying, continuously but still living. When I don’t feel I feel like assisted suicide is worth it. Why would you let someone suffer until death as if a jump of a bridge or a bungee jump with broken equipment due to emotional setback wouldn’t be graceful?. When I don’t feel, I feel unfaithful. its my fault, I’m sorry, forgive me, I’m not stable. when I don’t feel, I’m high; I’m confused, I’m delirious, hysterical, unfathomable and no more technical than a layman’s as possible because my level of everything depreciated and was destructible. I feel like a bomb that’s gone 5, 4, 3, 2, and kept choking on one. I feel like 20mins of sex and the climax ? there is none. Pause. Has an unfamiliar hand ever touched you ? When I don’t feel, I know I don’t do it on purpose and fuck what you say I’m dirt and I’m worthless. When I did feel, it felt pointless, I’m not selfish or self centred but its too much, I don’t deserve this. I shook in fear at the words “I love you”. My body radiated disgust at the themes I wasn’t used to.

One made the attempt to die – suicide because one decided to decipher the meaning of life. one had a relatively okay life; a family, no more dysfunctional than thy neighbours, had frequent cognitive examinations until one had honours and certificates to prove such procedures, and free will. Genuine happiness would have made it an idyllic life. one discovered that genuine happiness can only be achieved by manipulation of the brain. This is why such a prominence is said emotion is frowned upon by society. One cried for days in a psychiatric institute because one “suffered” from a mental disorder to which one called an excuse to take pills and put one back on the systematic course of life and deviate one from uniqueness and individuality. One made an attempt to die; suicide – and succeeded.


The suicide discrepancy

How do you kill what’s already dead ?
Do I kill the demons inside my head,

Or scar the surface to scare them instead ?

Today I felt that I needed to embellish
My canvas wasn’t good enough
It was too plain
The sight was quiet and it drove me insane
So I took my instrument
It was pristine and sharp
And with precision
I made all my deep incisions
Inevitably, my mind was elusive
I couldn’t fathom the meaning of the activity
But my canvas was looking better
It was looking better
It looked better
I was sure of it now
And as I paused to view and as I waited
My genital regions throbbed and pulsated.

To my therapist.

Do you mind taking a trip of intense interrogation in an atempt to address my obvious appeared sadness? What would you ask first? Am i’m okay today? Could I spare a smile, or has my happiness decayed ? Am I on pills? Prozac you presume. To that I reply: prozac? I refuse. I’d go on to describe that I would lose in a race to survive, that I would lose my drive just before the finish line and I’d realise that no one was cheering me on from behind or at the side line and I couldn’t recall an optimistic, nostalgic memory from any sector of  my miniscule mind… and I’d run out of breath, hyperventilate then cry and spend 10 minutes being the submissive guy. A slave to my own mind, a slave to my own kind. a slave to the unknown, pending secrets to be told and unfold. I realise I’ve gone too far. I’m out now. I’m in the car – mentally. I freeze. You sneeze. I smile because I knew your action wasn’t legit. Your excuse to break the awkward silence was… shit. I’m neutral again. You ask how im feeling as if you couldn’t decipher.

I drifted off into the unknown
And told my conscious mind to go home
Told my demons I’m done fighting,
My soul is here
My body is hiding.


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