Trying To Make It Through The Nightmare Vision of the Cats Trailer
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(trigger warning for discussions of suicide, hospitalisation)
In March of this year, at about eleven in the evening, I sat down on the edge of my bed. My partner, of six years, who I had met in the smoking area one Halloween when he was dressed as the wrong Doctor from Doctor Who and I just had to pass comment on it, had just voluntarily left our shared home to go to hospital for a psychiatric evaluation after a suicide attempt. From there, he would be committed to a mental ward, where he would stay for the next month (note: would it be funnier if I had titled this article “in the month of madness”?).
Okay but this review made off with my wig and has not been seen since
I feel like I have made my love for creepypastas abundantly clear on this blog already, but in case I haven’t: I fucking love creepypastas. For those who have lives enough not to know what they are, they’re basically the internet versions of campfire scary stories – tales passed around forums and websites, from user to user, growing and evolving with every retelling and every new detail added by all those people bold enough to stick their fingers in and get involved. They’re multimedia projects, that span text and video and chat and sound, that allow for anyone who engages with them to add to the mythos in some way or another.
Just some more light Ari Aster snark tbh
Not all men.
Animals is so nearly the movie of my dreams.
So, I think everyone who’s ever inched close to this blog by now knows that I am a huge fan of Stephen King. My first great literary love, I still have a huge soft spot for him, look upon a lot of his back catalogue with deep affection, and probably always will. But that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t put out some stinkers, too. And I figured – hey, why not share my favourite Stephen King books right here alongside the ones that I think sucked the hardest? I know I have some controversial choices here, but I stand (heh) by them – and would love to hear your best and worst, too. So, without further ado, let’s look at the standouts – the good and the bad – and get down to rankin’ some writin’!
So, it’s been around half a year since I started writing about living with OCD and all the nonsense occasionally hilarious bullshit that comes with it. And thus, I thought now might be a good time to talk about some of the good that’s come from being diagnosed – namely, everything that’s actually worked to make my life a little more liveable now that I know what the heck I’m dealing with.
You ever see a casting announcement and just think: what?