An Assortment of Not-Rights

Recently, I’ve found myself leaning into horror a bit more. I always found the genre a bit meaningless and uninteresting. Jumpscares and spooky things got me but I didn’t really believe in ghosts or religious exorcisms (religious horror movies were my most despised genre) and so I was never truly scared of them. However, I’ve always listened to a sort of cybersomething eerie cult Ring jumbo EDM music [that could only be described by a word dump] and really what I realized is I have to stop taking everything so seriously. I want to float in the terrifying gore of a boring horror movie and be able to say: The Conjuring was terrifying! with true authenticity. Let me be scared. I want to be afraid to sleep at night.

My professor sent their blog to me a couple months ago – I had asked them how I should go about starting my blog. I wanted a place to curate my writing and a place to speak without being heard (or to be heard. It doesn’t matter to me, as I write for myself). Their blog spanned from 2003 to 2016, and I had only glanced at the recent year’s posts. It was all very professional and sophisticated and very much analytical. It was a good consideration but not what I was looking for; I still appreciated my professor – they are the type of person I cannot find anywhere else in the world. Thoughtful. Down to earth. So intelligent beyond my years. Everytime I spoke to them, I couldn’t help but think – THIS is a human, in the rawest form. Felt a bit like my Julian Morrow in the distance. So reading their blog, I felt somewhat disappointed. This is not what I wanted to know about them, but it was a good use for a reference on blog formatting.

On the last day of that specific course, a couple of my friends and I stayed back, just for a little catch up with my professor, and they had mentioned their blog in that conversation, asking me if I had gotten around to starting my blog. 

That night, I went home, scrolled through their blog a bit more, remembering that I still had the link to it and felt I should glance at it again. It felt a bit stalkerish and eerie – was I supposed to know this much about somebody? And of course, I stumbled upon the posts between 2003 and 2006. Extremely personal. Raw and I couldn’t stop reading. Bona fide. My professor was a 25 year old graduate student talking about dating and people and struggles and all-around bullshit and earth shattering epiphanies with beautiful words and unfiltered thoughts. After 2006, the blog had started to become much more organized and strict. There were posts with poetry and observations- not much of the diary entry like ramblings of somebody figuring themselves out, and I suppose it’s more beautiful that way. This glimpse of a person that existed before I was born speaking in a language I’ve been trying to find since I could start reading. Ugh! 

I’m going to try to get more personal in this blog. What am I afraid of? I think I will get into those horror video games, too. I will start with Fatal Frame.