Horror that is seen or the unseen horror....

Lon Chaney as seen in The Phantom of the Opera...

What is more horrific....seeing that which terrifies you most, or imagining what terrifies you most though you cannot see it???

There are varying degrees of terror in any manner of horror flick...everything from the most gruesome, gory, flesh-destroying monster to the psychological torturer bent on crushing a person from the inside out.

The success of the horror genre is its ability to terrify individuals to the point of panic. The best horror brings the strongest of us to tears. The fear is palpable, the sweat is real, the blood pressure spikes and plummets, you have to remind yourself to breathe. Your heart pounds as if you've just finished a marathon, gasping, you are left reeling, trying to pull yourself back into the reality of the non-horror world.

If you're lucky, the return is uneventful, peaceful even, a wondrous reminder that your own life is not, in fact, a horror film. You go about your daily activities just as you did before watching/reading the latest in the world of horror.

And yet, there are others whose return to pre-horror life isn't so easy. They hold the horror inside, replaying, reliving in their mind the images/feelings that terrified them. They need more than a deep breath to clear their minds of what has invaded. For these people, the best in horror are the pieces/movies that stick with them days longer, weeks longer even.

So, this begs the question...which horror enthusiast are you? The one who needs constant exposure to enjoy the heart-racing episodes, or the one who only needs occasional reminders of horror as the mind is overflowing with all manner of ghosties and ghoulies........

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A-Z Reflections, year 4....

A-Z blogging challenge for 2014 has come and gone, seemingly without my realizing it. And, though I fell behind once or twice toward the end, I finished this year's challenge right on time. Really, I can't believe it's already over. I feel like I just finished my post for letter A... Year 4, for this blogger, was a far cry from the tortured state of despondency that was most of Year 3 -- I'll not mention the irony of this year's focus on death being easier to blog about than last year's foray into supernatural creatures, we'll leave that for my therapy sessions *ahem* As always, A-Z brought with it, not only 26 days of unbridled and far-reaching knowledge (disguised as entertaining and thought-provoking blog-posts), but a chance to connect with new faces while reconnecting with familiar faces--who had perhaps drifted away--from A-Z's past. I am always amazed by the ingenuity and inspiration that comes from lumping a couple thousand folk...

Bitter Honey

Weaving dreams of beguiling gold, a future's price for happiness. What secrets do you, determined, hold? asks the summer wind's soft caress. A guarded name, a hidden hope. Spinning wheels clutching time, grasping straw that falls away, What dreams may come, we soon may find, won't recall at end of day. A cherished life, a memory lost.

Battle Storm...

Storm's coming, war's brewing, rolling clouds choke the light, Cannon's rumble, bodies tumble, exploding stars steal the night. The heavens clap, the battle's snap, sinking deep the wounded fall, The lightning's spark, the thunder's hawk, drinking in the warring pall. Soldiers crawl, the ranks sprawl, beneath the wall of death, Eyes clenched tight, in teeth-bared fight, bequeathed their final breath.

From the Inkwell, From the Vein.....

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