I love to be frightened and then I don’t. What is it about seeking the thrill of horror yet when it comes to close to home, we back away a bit. When it’s REAL, holy shit is it REAL. I ell in love with horror movies at such a young age only because they traumatized me. How does that make any sense. Everytime i seen a horror film, I would end up having nightmares about it. It came full circle today because I can appreciate a good film and separate the underrated from the least deserving.
There was an artist I met who told me about David Lynch and said that it wasn’t scary or anything. I listened to what she had to say about it and kept him in mind to search later. I came across Muholland Drive which messed with my mind so bad because I kept thinking that it wasn’t suppose to be scary but it was eerie as shit! The whole reality vs nightmare/dream state and teasing of the equilibrium did me in. Anyways, the conversation with the artist consisted of supernatural and paranormal stories but she told me that things of that sort don’t scare her but people do. Understandable. To even imagine of someone harming another is enough to wish I was in a horror film instead. Horror films are safe.
Some say the real monsters are found in the people amongst us. Some say it’s not what’s under the bed that scares people but of what hides outside the window peeking in. I say as long as I’m comfortable but slightly disturbed afterwards, count me in for that thrill seeking safe horror film extravaganza.