Horror dream nightmare

I just woke up from an awful horror dream nightmare. It was very gross, and scary, and violent and sexual.

Look, I really do not understand why anyone makes — let alone watches — horror films. The snippets I get from Halloween decorations or 30-second film clips before I look away are enough to haunt my nightmares for weeks. Does it not affect other people this way? There is so  much darkness inside twisted up humans. That is why I want light so badly. Light, and air, and trust, and kindness, and people taking care of each other, and babies.

I know I’m abnormally sensitive, because the Disney film Aladdin was suffocatingly terrible to me as a small child. The aura of arbitrary magic (that could break the laws of nature with buildings rolling on the ground!) and the  Jafar-Jasmine thing (I was too little to know what sex was, but I hated the vibe of predator and prey, using wits and honeyed words–it was sickening as much as the lingering smell of pot smoke and old urine in undergrad dormitory stairwells is).

Maybe there is something in my soul that resonates with recognition towards the darkness. I feel like I can feel the creeping chill of it, long before anyone else in the room mentions the draft and closes the door. But this I keep wondering — can they really not feel it, or are they all pretending?

When this sort of thing descends like a cloud, I hold on to Jesus’ promise to me with both hands. This is why I listen to cheesy evangelical music on loop, lay my head on a Bible, and go to the “fuddy duddy” churches. I want air and light and life. And Jesus is my only hope.



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