The Pen is Blew

While I sit here not doing my job, I begin to wonder how much longer I can go without doing any actual work?

I really love Halloween. If it were an actual holidy, it would be my favorite holiday. The chance to dress up like something dead, to decorate my house with scary, bloody crap, and the release of yet another onslot of horror films to the theaters. All wonderful reasons to love this time of year.

I am not sure when the obsession began. I know that as a child I would only wear black, and was a little too preoccupied with Vampires. It seems that I must have been a goth in my very early years. I never gave up the fascination with the undead, but black clothes were replaced with a variety of other tones and only on rare occasions would I be seen wearing make-up.

As I strive to turn this post into something worth reading, rather than a boring diary of someone less interesting than you, my mind tends to draw a blank.

I once wrote, with the help of a friend, a script for a horror film. The unsettling part about writing a script of this nature, is that you have to dig into the darker parts of your imagination to produce quality horror. Sitting alone in a cafe, writing like mad as the ideas flew from my head to the page, I paused to revise what I had written. There comes a point when you have to look at yourself and say "Did I really think of that?" I mean sure, killing a girls dog and feeding it to her as birthday cake may sound harmless, but when you get to the details of how the knife cut into the fur and blood pours out of the middle, you start to question your personal morals.

To this date, I have never acted upon any of these sinister ideas which pop into my head, so I suppose that is a good thing. I will just write them down, post them or put them in a film so that some other psycho can act them out. I have never been one to follow through with these plans, but I do love to suggest them to those who just might.