Aug 1
Oh, the things I’ll show you…
I went on this Hellraiser binge a few weeks ago, maybe months, it all blends together these days. Anyway, Hellraiser, with Pinhead, he has all these pins stuck in his face, head, he ushers folks into Hell. Of course, he tries to to make the process of letting a person know that they’re damned, forever, as fucked up and terrifying as possible. Sometimes, in the earlier movies, he simply drags living people off to Hell. In the later movies, he switches up to the “Guess what, Chico, your life’s been so fuckin’ crazy because you’re already dead! This is Hell, you’re already there!” I personally find the latter concept to be more scary. I know I’ve been out of it, drugged up after some medical procedure or another, and I’ve honestly considered, actually felt that, I died and was really in Hell. It’s a bad, bad feeling. Still, no matter Pinhead’s delivery, there’s always this moment, in every movie, where Pinhead tries to spin Hell as some kind of decadent, sexy, not-so-bad experience, and he says, “Oh, the things I’ll show you…” Of course, then he lets you in on the fact that he considers things like being hung from the ceiling by hooks run through your genitals to be decadently sexy, at which point Hell stops sounding not-so-bad.
Oh, the things I’ll show you. I often think about that before I fall asleep at night, like my sub-conscious is telling me what’s going to happen when I can’t fight sleep anymore, and I do fight it. It’s sort of a counter-productive fight because I take medicine to make me sleepy, so it’s not like I can win and stay up twenty-one hours in twenty-four like I would without the medicine. So, I sleep, I have bad dreams, terrible dreams. I wish I could say that they’re interesting, or fun for readers to analyze, like I’m being chased through fields of wheat by giant, man-eating orchids, but they’re nothing as exciting as that, not nearly. I don’t even have the zombie dreams anymore, where I just get bit on the wrist, or the arm, and I’m scared because I know I’ll turn. Rather, every night when I close my eyes I lose someone I love, she’s always so cold, and she always goes. I wake up fast, scared, I feel like my heart might jump out of my chest. This happens over and over, all night long. I start every day exhausted, like I never slept. I’m fucking tired. Right now, I’m tired. I’m always tired anymore.
I’ve literally almost died a bunch of times, hoses break, machines fail, lungs fill with fluid, being right on the edge of not breathing ever again, never ever again, it’s scary. It’s really beyond imagining until it actually happens. It’s definitely like nothing I worried about back when I could talk and breathe without machines. Still, and I’m being completely honest, which I always am here, losing her every night, being without her when I’m awake, it’s worse than not being able to breathe. Whether I’m asleep or awake, everything’s a bad dream. I’m scared, I’m scared all the time. Being alone, without her, it’s more scary than looking straight at death. It shouldn’t be, it isn’t logical, but I’ve experienced both, and being without her is the worst. It makes everything harder. Like, whenever something bad happened, I didn’t feel fear. My head was clear, You’re not going to die, you’ll see her again, be close to her, kiss her, you have to go home. You have to keep breathing, you can’t end here. My home is gone, fighting is harder. I’m worn, afraid, afraid of closing my eyes, not being able to open them again.
Oh, the things I’ll be shown tonight, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.
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“Oh, the things I’ll show you…”
Do you think that was supposed to summon thoughts of Dr Seuss?
I love you