The Influence Of Horror

I have to admit that when I said that I liked Happy and Shake It Off I knew that it would make me look weak. I write horror for God’s sake! What kind of horror writer am I if I’m listening to bouncy, sugar fluff? No one is going to take me seriously so I have to step it up a little. As a writer influences come from everywhere and I sometimes draw characters from people I see on a daily basis. If I see someone that looks a little fucked up or drunk I may actually use that. I saw an old lady walking one day and she had a hunch back. Normal people won’t use that for anything but if you’ve seen my Facebook or Goodreads page you’ll know that my reading habits and posts are sometimes full of sarcasm and irony. https://www.facebook.com/splatterpunkmonkey, and the books I’ve read really fuel the question of what is wrong with you? https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8289470.Michael_Noe

Back to the humback lady and how normal people would just walk on by. Me, I have this vision of this lady walking around looking for people to suck the life from. The more people she kills the younger she gets. Her eyes may look bank and expressionless but her soul is alive and vibrant. I think the reason that I have such a warped and twisted imagination is due to the era that I grew up in. In the eighties we weren’t all politically correct. We had this huge fear of the devil but no one really tried to tell you that what you thought or believed in was harmful to others. We grew up listening to heavy metal and watching Jason and even Freddy carve the fuck out of people.. People may have said that what we were watching was harmful but it was fun to watch.

If I trace my twisted imagination i guess it fed off of the vintage Stephen King and album covers from bands like Iron Maiden and Slayer. Heavy metal still plays a huge part of my writing. As I write this I’m listening to Cradle Of Filth.

Filth

I love this record and it shows that as a horror writer heavy metal just fits right into what I write about. You can listen to the most insane, satanic, blackened symphonic death metal and be inspired to write something that people will be repulsed by, The stuff I write would fit right in with stuff like Cannibal Corpse and even Morbid Angel. There truly is beauty in the dark. As a horror writer you need to embrace the dark a little and while other horror writers may not listen to this kind of stuff I do. It’s all a part of me and why I write the way I do. I am a horror junkie that truly loves the dark side of music. it just fits.

There are all sorts of sides to me that all make me who I am an even what kind of writer I’m evolving into. People may just see the dark, sarcastic side and assume that that’s who I am all the time. or that because I like to write stuff that is extremely dark and twisted I must be some kind of weirdo. Not true at all, but highly amusing.

We are all influenced by something. I think as a horror writer my influences are just a bit more scattered. It’s harder to hit a moving target isn’t it? You have to keep growing or else you begin to grow stale and boring.

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Church Adventures

     People are going to start banning me from church I can feel it. I manage to get out of bed hop in the shower and even try and promise myself no blog. It seems everytime I drag myself there I end up with something. This time I wouldn’t write one.

     My mom’s church blended in with another church so I’m surrounded by people I don’t know. There’s some lady randomly yelling; “Yes Lord, thank you Lord.” My first thought was; I wonder if she yells that during sex? How distracting would that be if you’re pounding away and she just starts thanking Jesus. 

     Once I shift  my focus away I notice that the lady in front of me is swatting at her ear and her right arm is shaking. The more I watch her the more I notice all these weird behaviours. She would shake her head or once again swat at her ear. I thought maybe it was a bug but  as she kept doing I realized there was no bug at all.  She was just twitchy.

     Before I had kids and a wife I wanted to be a writer. I would get random ideas from just watching people. You’d be surprised by how many stories I had gotten from watching people. As I watch her I hear; “Yes Lord.” I start panicking because twitchy has become even more twitchy and I start thinking that she’s going to kill all of us.

     This is a  very small building so if she decides to kill because she just got a message from God saying that we needed to die because we’re all sinners I am totally fucked. There’s nowhere for me to go. All the folding chairs are occupied so any hope of braining her with one of those isn’t an option. My cell phone kept bouncing in and out of roaming so calling for help is also out as an option. 

     You read about people going batshit crazy at church but it’s something you try not to think about while you’re there. There I am wondering if twitchy is hearing the voice of God and maybe that’s why she’s swatting at her ear and shaking her head. Is God telling her to mow us down like wheat and she’s resisting because she knows it’s not a viable option? You go to church to serve and worship God not slaughter innocent people.

     Is there anything I’d like to confess? Fuck! I’m not Catholic. Where would I even begin? Knowing my luck I’d be the first one she kills and why not? I am seated behind her so it would make sense right? What nuggets of wisdom would she give to me as she’s pumping my chubby body full of holes? Would I shit and piss my pants?

     What if there was no God? As the walls are splashed with blood and the screams of the dying fill the air this is where all the answers are finally answered. All of these people could suddenly realize that God was a myth like Bigfoot or true love. Once they die and realize there’s nothing will they finally apologize for shoving God down our sinful throats?

     If there is no God this woman just killed a church full of people because she was fucking nuts! Why would God tell her to kill a church full of people anyway? The Bible is full of that shit isn’t? “Hey, it’s God. Kill your mom.” They they’d run home and kill their mother because God told them too. Fuck the commandment that says thou shalt not kill because when God tells you to kill someone you better fucking do it or else He’ll smite you and your entire bloodline.

     I try and focus on the service but at this point I’m fucking lost. I have no idea what’s going on and there’s a pregnant woman seated an aisle over and behind me. Now I’m totally pissed because she’s pregnant and hot. Why oh Lord is this happening? A hot pregnant and a twitchy lady?

     It was at that moment that I realized I am way beyond the help of any church. No priest is going to listen to my confession sober and if he does he’d need a shit load of therapy aftterward. Again, thank God I’m not Catholic. I shift away from all the distractions and wonder why is it that other people can go to church and have no issues but I go and I have no control over my brain?

     If there is a God why in the hell did he curse me with Add? Why do have to think about everything and question everything? Just once I would like to not think or imagine that a crazy lady is planning to make it rain blood and bullets.

     From here on out no more church. I quit, give up, throw in the towel. Let someon else try and write a decent blog about church that makes people feel good and shit. I have failed miserably and I should feel some type of remorse or at least embarrassment yet I feel nothing.

Can’t Sleep

     Maybe the title is a bit misleading. I can sleep and fell asleep reading. I woke up hugging my tablet like it was my girlfriend. It was an awkward moment because I remember reading and I just fell out. Woke up and realized why I never go to sleep at eight in the evening. I have no cable, no television. I’m fucked.

     I decided to grow a beard this winter and I don’t get why people have to ask why I grew it. is there supposed to be some deep meaning behind facial hair? Ever since man evolved there has to be a reason for everything. God really screwed us up because everything has a purpose including facial hair.

     There are actually two reasons for the beard. The first is obvious. I got tired of shaving. I shave my entire head so I’m actually cutting out on time spent in the bathroom. Every week I shave my head and then my face. One morning I said fuck it and now I have the beard.

     The second reason is far deeper. I have a disease. It’s called I don’t give a shit. This disease affects my entire life. I wake up in the morning plaster on a fake smile and plow through my day. I’m oblivious to everything and it sucks but what can I do. I’ve had a rough few months thought I finally hit a corner and now I’m right back where I started.

     I just don’t care how I look and if it wasn’t for my job I’d stop showering and doing laundry. I wake up fake enthusiasm and come home and pretend that I actually give a shit about whatever topic I encounter until I’m alone and can read and pretend that the world doesn’t exist.

     I’ve been through far too much shit. I feel like a discarded pumpkin. I’m all hollow inside and have no idea how to fix me. I keep hearing about prayer and God and I chuckle. I’d like to thank God for allowing my life to continually turn to shit. Awesome job. For all those lovely people that want to pray for me please don’t. I can’t handle anymore stress and if my life gets any worse I may just end up in the whacky shack eating crayons.

     The phrase I keep hearing is confession is good for the soul but is it? Religous folks are all about confession. We all want to be absolved of something don’t we? The only thing that confession really does is give you an excuse to do it again. If we can be forgiven why not do it again?

     Sin is such a broad area and people are consumed with this idea that confession will somehow make their lives better. All confession does really is make you look like a horrible person. Confession may not be good for the soul. You know what’s good for the soul? You shutting the fuck and talking to God or whomever on your own. Why bring in an intermediary?

     Lastly because I’m getting sleepy and I think this blog is sucking, I’m trying to pinpoint the exact moment when I started to fuck up everything I came in conract with. The other night I was looking back on my life and I realized I’ve fucked up every relationship I’ve ever had.

     Everything I touch I break. It’s that simple. I end up screwing up a relationship because I was freaked out and scared and I noticed that it’s always been that way. I either push them away or say something that makes me look like an asshole. I find the one woman that I truly wanted to be with and I screw it up.

     There’s nothing you can do to fix it. Once you fuck it up there’s no way to unfuck it up. There’s always that hope that they’ll see that you didn’t want to push them away you just did what you always do. Some people are perfectly content with being happy and enjoy it while I usually just fuck it up. The part that sucks is when you see her and she’s just as beautiful as the last time you saw her. That’s when you realize you may have lost the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you.

     I think at some point though we need to rely less on what could happen in a relationship and just focus on what’s important. I broke my one cardinal rule and that’s to not think ahead. I did and went all panicky and shit. I am a walking disaster that’s totally screwed up. I hit that moment where I freaked out and then hit a period where I just said fuck it.

    I doubt very highly that I’ll get a shot of redemption anyway. It’s never worked out for me. If I could confess maybe it would be that I don’t have all the answers, I’m not a very good savior at all because when it comes right down to it I’m just scared as everyone else. I fell in love with an amazing woman and totally fucked it up. It happens. All I can do is keep moving forward. It’s all I got left.