Monday, 2 August 2010


I've just got home after watching a film with some friends. Edward Scissorhands. If you have seen it, you will know that the film itself isn't really that scary. It's the thoughts you get afterwords that get in that category. The thing about a charming boy who, in reality, is very dangerous. That thing about dark things that draw. And the one with being different and not fit in.
When I drove home in a empty city, with lights that flash for nobody, Edward seemed more real. 'Cause even if Tim Burton means everything as a joke, there's so much reality in the story.

I'm having quite a lot nightmares at the moment- I don't know why it's necessary to dream about dead people and darkness all the time. I'm even taking myself in looking over my shoulder, half expecting to look into red eyes, every time I get home in the night. As if someone would sit on a swing in my garden. This surprises me, because I'm usually not scared of things I should be scared of. Like walking alone in empty, dark streets. Darkness feels soothing.

Every time I wake up with a jerk (yes, just like on film), I almost laugh of myself. But when I close my eyes to go back to sleep, there's just fear waiting.
x A.

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