Hello. Who Are You?

Shattered Mirrors

"After mere moments of searching, my eyes fall upon a sight of ineffable atrocity. Unidentifiable remnants of my offspring stain the ruins, horrific, repulsive gore festering & bleeding all around me. And it breaks me."

Corruption, sadistic urges, & malign energy; these atrocities never plagued my soul, though darkness was the puppeteer that resurrected the corpse of my mind... and I loved it.

My thirteen-year-old-self loathed the peaceful, relaxing & utterly monotonous lifestyle of the quiet suburban reality. The peace & quiet; my cage, my parents; the slave keepers. The eternal boredom murdered my mentality, I became nothing more than a braindead mound of gore & flesh, a living corpse, all signs of sentience neutralized by undying placidness. Numb, passionless... until I discovered horror. I was intrigued by the sheer intensity, the overwhelming emotions that it resurrected, it became my existence, my life. I acquired as much horror material as I could, writing, music, film, art, photos, anything that would originate terror. But I wasn't a psycho, a freak obsessed with murder & nightmares, I just had the greater appreciation of intensity & wonder, knowing the pain of nothingness. I'm just as sane as anyone.

But I'm over eighteen now, I've had many years to mature, to evolve as a person. There isn't a single person in this universe that hasn't possessed a strange trait that they have inevitably grown out of, it is just how the human brain has evolved. Our mind matures as do our bodies. Horror is a pointless waste of quarks, it's unproductive & I'd rather gain useful knowledge, like working towards a university course in biology. Though I am grateful to have moved away from that dreadful neighborhood, to rent a house with my beautiful girlfriend Cloe. Horror was my savior, but knowledge is my legacy.

Closing the gruesome collection of novellas, I begin to wonder the true meaning of what I had just read; ...bleeding all around me, and it breaks me... What did the author mean by "breaks me"? Whatever the shadowy, true meaning is, the thought creates an uneasy, perturbed feeling inside of me, so I burn away the thoughts, though a slight scar is left behind. How could I of all people, have ever been so indulged in these gritty abnormities.