Haunted By Life

Halloween is often used to portray supernatural terrors plaguing sweet, innocent families, but that is meant as a distraction from the everyday horrors of living. Compared to even the most mundane of terrors, Freddy, Jason, aliens with inexplicable and impractical second mouths, nor ghosts or Babadooks are as scary or anxiety inducing as every day human frights.

Of course I’m reusing this image. It saves me time having to search for clever memes.

I would rather be plagued by a horde of malicious (and justified) ancient Indian burial ground ghosties than have to encounter, yet again, the dreaded “person I’ve met three times but can’t remember their name yet they know mine like we’re old chums.” Eek! What do I do with such an evil entity? How long can I keep up the, “Hey…you, guy pal person dude,” before that person with the super-memory notices and condescendingly points out, “you don’t remember my name, do you?” Instead of allowing me to fake-introduce a friend to this person in such a way that forces the person to reveal his/her name?

Vampires and zombies are easy enough to dispatch when compared to the horror of body image. How do you fight the overwhelming depression of your own naked visage? Diet and exercise is not the same thing as a stake in the heart, it’s not that easy. Even if diet and exercise were a magic cure-all, then I’d be depressed I couldn’t eat pizza or enjoy a cookie without mentally calculating how many miles on the treadmill that equated to.  No matter how yolked I get, there’s always someone with a better body or more confidence or more joy eating that delicious hamburger. Gimme that burger with the white bread bun!

image source
image source

Give me a thousand werewolves scratching my face off or just nibblin on my lil toe so that I turn into a werewolf instead of the strange, slow metamorphosis of my average body. Once a month I sprout a bunch of hair and crave human flesh? Cool. Better than once a week finding hairs of bizarrely random coarseness sprouting up from places I haven’t considered or follicles I enjoy committing ritual suicide. My body is constantly in flux. Wouldn’t it be nice to have the reassurance that it would only be on predictable full moons that my body would completely change.

Pennywise mat prey upon childhood insecurities, but if he doesn’t/didn’t exist, we just have to live with those childhood insecurities that linger into adulthood.

With horror movies, there’s a specific monster, an external threat that can be dealt with. Sadly, real life doesn’t give you the specific threat, no, it gives you a thousand malleable, moveable internal and existential monsters that combatting are all like punching the ocean. Boo, you are haunted by your own brain!

Happy Halloween, the real horrors are conjured by ourselves.


Add yours →

  1. I’m a little depressed now, more than scared…

    Also, I’m confused. What exactly does that ad mean when it says: “Werewolverines go for the werewolf who uses…”? Does that mean werewolverines will be compelled to mate outside their species if the werewolf has fewer grays? What happens if male werewolverines start covering up their grays too? Will there be a power struggle for prospective mates? I’m all for interracial relationships but I’m curious as to why don’t werewolves want to date other werewolves? Or, could it mean that if the mutant, Wolverine, was bitten by a werewolf & turned (He’s a zombie in an alternate reality so why not?) he’d suddenly develop a lycanthrope fetish?

    I’m left with more questions than answers.


  2. I hate my life.



  3. Yeah I hate when I am out shopping and someone stops me talks to me knows my name and I haven’t a clue who the hell they are


  4. But what about house centipedes, hmm? Both horrific monsters AND real. *shudder*


  5. abeerfortheshower October 31, 2016 — 9:53 pm

    I’m currently in the best shape of my life, and the only thing I can think about is how many times I could have had burgers or donuts but I didn’t. Hell, I could be having a donut right now. That thought is horrifying to me. Donuts are way better than abs, trust me. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t become the ghost of donuts that could have been.


  6. I used to pride myself on being so “good with names”. In high school there was a guy who joined mid year and I always said “Hi Andy(I have no idea what his name was anymore…you see where this is going). I knew he didn’t remember my name because he always said “Hey…YOUUUU!” I thought I was so funny.
    Then I grew up and got a job and met approximately 3,842 people a year. Guess what? They all remember my name but I started doing a LOT of “Hey! How’s the family??” I will just about grab a stranger to introduce so I can try to get the person to say their name. The worst is when they just say “Oh hi, nice to meet you.” I mean, come on! Throw me a frickin’ bone, here!


  7. Sweetie, you don’t have an email address that I can talk to you with so it has to be by comments.

    You left me a comment on my blog yesterday about blackface in a video in the UK by a dance troupe. There is an effort in the UK to have this stopped because it is really demeaning to Black people living in the UK. The dance troupe Known as the Morris dancers, paint their faces black with soot or black paint and they have been asked to stop out of respect. If you will look carefully some of them wear the black paint in a cat face. Others still do wear the complete blackface and say that people should check out the Wikipedia page called Border Morris there are different reasons that they give for wearing blackface. Pickelope, give me your email address. I won’t give it out. Email me at: falconstar926@gmail.com



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