╔════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╗ ║ THE DRIFT ZOMBIES: HOW DRIVING REVEALS A CULTURE IN DECLINE ║ ╚════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╝

Every morning on the road, I meet the same ghost. Not the vengeful spirit of someone wronged—no, these are far more common. They’re called drivers, but what they’re really doing is occupying a vehicle, like a low-battery consciousness hitching a ride in a two-ton husk of steel.

The light turns green. I wait. And wait. And then, ever so gently, the car ahead rolls forward—not with intent, not with momentum, but like a shopping cart pushed by wind. The driver hasn’t accelerated. They’ve just removed their foot from the brake, as if that's as much willpower as they can summon.

They drift for a thousand feet before discovering the gas pedal. They meander within their lane like a dog on a too-long leash, drifting right, correcting left, brake lights flickering with every imagined danger. Their turns are not arcs but seizures—sixteen micro-corrections where one deliberate motion would suffice. It’s not just bad driving. It’s degraded consciousness.

I remember driving in the 1990s. Sure, some people were slow. But they were aware. You could sense the deliberateness in their posture, the caution in their turns. They were choosing to drive conservatively. What we have now is something different—a population that isn’t choosing anything. They’re drifting, mentally and physically. And the car has become the stage for their dissociation.

This isn’t just about traffic. It’s about a cultural shift so profound that it radiates into every domain: customer service, communication, even parenting. We’re becoming a society of half-present people, stretched thin across glowing rectangles, with no central core of attention. Driving simply makes it obvious. It is the canary in the minivan.

These are not bad people. But they are eroded. They have lived too long in systems designed to override instinct, to outsource decision-making to algorithms, to confuse motion with progress. And so they tap the brakes when there’s no threat, drift through lanes without intent, and idle through life the way they idle through intersections—waiting for something to prompt them into motion.

The worst part? They think they’re safe. In their minds, this slow, indecisive, over-braking style is what caution looks like. But real caution requires awareness. What they’re doing is the opposite. It’s a kind of automotive sleepwalking.

And so, behind them, I seethe—not because I’m in a rush, but because I’m awake. Because I remember when people drove, when they took responsibility for their lane, their speed, their presence. What I’m watching now isn’t driving. It’s ambient occupancy.

We call them drivers, but let’s be honest. They’re drift zombies. And every day, we must navigate their numbers like survivors in a land where attention has died.

╭────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────╮ │ Drive like you're alive. │ │ Because most people aren't. │ ╰────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────╯