Where is my head? I know I have dark brutal thoughts or I would never be able to write some of what I do, but today it is like oxygen. A need, a craving a desire and yet it is also a place that sometimes frightens me. I was raised to be a gentleman, to see women as soft and feel the need to protect them. This is how the world according to my upbringing was for the most part.
It sounds like the epic battle of good and evil but it is much deeper than that. It is the battle of who and what I am verses the who and what I think I am supposed to be in the world. “Life is pain, anyone tell you otherwise is selling something” a classic line from the princess bride and full of a deep truth. Life is not about princess rescues from the clutches of the evil monsters that haunt nightmares. It is about being true to who you are, even if it is just a few degrees off the normal path.
This morning I was sitting sipping coffee trying to get the images from a dark and battle filled dream out of my head. A picture of a young lass standing there nude was on my screen, for a moment I could hear the screams again. More so I wanted to hear the scream, see her face the fear and feel the pain of the implement passing through her. There for that moment I sat frozen, the images running through my mind, playing like a film as she faded to the next realm.
Picture after picture passed and I did my usual fake a good side gesture. Most days I do it so well I believe it myself. Today I wasn’t buying it, it felt more than fake, it felt wrong. I stopped as decided I need to write this out. Of course not before going back and looking again. Thinking how she would look with the crimson dribble flowing from her lips as the stake had run her through.
It is a fantasy world after all, a place of demons and darkness. Things that in polite company one would never dare speak. Limbs torn from bodies, screams of agony that echo off the stones and give a sadistic smile to the listener. The beauty of death itself, the ultimate doorway that one day we all will pass. It is a moment of total control, not just showing the victim the door but pushing them through. To gain pleasure from that, it is exhilarating; it is revolting, even more so it is sexually exciting.
Taboos laid down from some forgotten moral code that has been muddied in the blood of all nations from the beginning of time deem things like this wrong. People coil back in horror when they know of another who thinks this, but in fact they too crave something. If not why are horror movies so popular? Why do people flock to videos where a person is tortured or killed? What if we opened the arenas again, let the games resume? The crowds would be a few at first but soon the events would rival even the super bowl in attendance. More than just man pitted against man but man against beast and for the more blood thirsty crowds later women fighting. How long before the baser craving turn even darker? In some countries it already is so, but we are civilized. We need the masses to be calm and passive to maintain order and watch the world vicariously on youtube and other media.
Yes I traveled to some strange places in my dreams. Men and women being impaled, rape, violence, death, with no regards for gender, age or color. Meat for the kitchen, sport for the masses, carnage for the sake of carnage, all haunts deep inside. From the executed prisoner being cooked and served to the others remaining to the “sport” of listening to the screams of the dying as death find them. Even darker at times, to the villain who desires a maiden, her actions resulting in her death, but even death will not deprive him of his desire.
Fighting back, repressing, and choking on these things but most of all tailoring myself to the masses and internally lamenting all the while. It is not my desire or design to offend, but rather to broil up the depths and let the things and images that haunt mankind come to the surface. I desire to no longer be mournful in my editing, cutting out the juicy parts so to protect the dulcet senses of morality, but rather a truth to myself. Even if in the end I stand on the mast of a sinking ship holding fast knowing that the depths will soon claim me too. Topics I will breach will have an appeal to some, others will shy away, this I know. Tendrils will reach up out of the feral ground and be given life in words.
I have been asked before where the images come from. I have my suspicions. Seeing death face to face so many times will change a person, having violent relationships will do the same too. What lives in me will always be for it is a part of me, made one with who I am. Therapist of the past deemed me sane, I do not question them, they know best. I just know what broods deep inside, and that all mankind has some darkness and craving in them.