Post-Mortem Depression

Look Mom. I started a blog!

A place to put all of my narcissistic ramblings, my angry fist-shakings, the memorials for my dead pets (yeah it's coming...wait for it!).

Mostly a way to feed my writing habit and need for attention ... the need to hear people tell me they love me and I'm smart ... or that they hate me and I'm dumb ... the opposite of love is not hate, it is indifference, so hate away ... just don't be indifferent because I have attachment issues.

Seriously, where are you going?

So what can you expect from PMD? Lots about horror movies, gay sexiness, and psychology. Not in any kind of academic way, mind you because I'm a complete idiot. C'mon, it's a blog, not the New York Times.

The focus will be on the dark side (Jung called it the shadow) and how horror films explore the troublesome process of delving into it: Clarice went into Buffalo Bill's basement; Ginny went into Jason’s ramshackle cabin; Father Merrin went into Regan's bedroom. Horror heroines and heroes go into the "scary place where the bad thing happened" and they bring the light. But while they are in there, a lot of cool, gory, crazy shit happens.

Post-Mortem Depression hopes to explore as much of horror films and the shadow and gay sexiness as its creator is capable of enduring. Because I'm such a giver.

But I will also indulge my own narcissistic ramblings (like this one!) on occasion.

So welcome to all. Enter my fevered brain, stroke the slutty attention whore at the center of my cerebellum.

Welcome to Post-Mortem Depression.