It seems like forever ago when I actually wanted to waste an hour of minimum wage to scare the living daylights out of myself. Going to the theaters to see a horror movie was the closest thing I did to being dangerous, other than that one time I jumped off that bridge because all of my friends were doing it (we all do dumb things). Once upon a time I looked forward to watching a scary movie all alone while I held my hands over my eyes, all the while peering through my fingers because I was revolted but had to know what was going on. After all, if a tree falls in the woods and no one hears it, did it really fall. For me that’s a yes. If I close my eyes the movie is still playing and it does exist.
In the midst of high school I was an avid Saw fan. That just means I looked forward to being creeped out with recurring nightmares along with my other friends. I didn’t long to repeat the brutal tragedies in regards to breaking human both mentally and physically. I just wanted to feel something. Compassion, pain….more so the adrenaline pumping through me without any real physical movement.
Now scary movies have jumped down to one of my last picks, right above those movies that have no real plot other than just enjoying blowing things up. What happened? Most of my friends say they feel the same way. Perhaps it is because we no longer have parents in the other room that we could rely on. Going home to an empty house makes you question every bump in the night. Maybe it’s the fact that we crave security and those movies give us doubts no matter how unrealistic they are. Of course I’m sure there are many people out there with a stomach for the dark and grotesque I am sad to say that I lost that side of me, but not completely. ,Aubrey I no longer deem other people’s ideas to scare me because my mind is wicked enough.
I’ve seen that even though I have a lack for the scary movie, my mind, in my own writing, can get dark enough that it makes my stomach ache as I picture the thoughts in my head. Today I’m setting my mind straight. I want to welcome a healthy insecurity that makes me sleep with the lights on or disregard going into that creepy basement because someone or something may be living there. This year I’m going to enjoy watching scary movies because in reality my mind is much more decrepit and I figure it can’t hurt.
If you feel the same then join me on the wild side where daylight is the differentiator in what is safe, not. Bring on the insecurities of the world and take a journey in your dissociative nightmares. Just remember that most the stuff you see doesn’t really happen, at least not to you. If it does then one day someone will write your scary movie.