From as long as I can remember, I have always loved the horror genre. Movies, characters, memorabilia, and haunted houses have filled my life with thrills and chills. I must give my late father credit for my taste in horror, as he loved the horror flicks on television, often introducing me to a world of spine-tingling narratives and iconic monsters. I don’t recall my exact age when I became captivated by horror films, but I do remember tuning into Philadelphia channel 48 on Saturday nights while growing up in New Jersey. Those were the cherished times for me in my preteen years, a magical age where every jump scare felt like a heart-stopping adventure. One prominent memory that clings to my brain is a very late night spent sitting on the couch with my sister in the darkness, scaring ourselves relentlessly while watching the 1972 zombie horror flick ‘Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things.’ The eerie sound effects and unsettling visuals left an indelible mark on our young minds, igniting a lifelong fascination with the macabre. I own that movie on physical DVD as well as on digital media as of this writing, and though the film doesn’t frighten me as it once did, I enjoy trying to experience that thrill once again by watching it with the lights out, immersing myself in nostalgia that brings back those innocent yet exhilarating moments of fright that made our childhood memories so vivid and unforgettable.

You’re too evil for me

It used to be just horror movies that I would introduce into a new love in my life, and in an innocently way, I would bring up the topic of horror films just to feel them out in their taste for this genre. If they were dead set against anything horror, they would find themselves back on the dating app and losing my number. That’s no exaggeration. Over the years, my horror taste would expand beyond just the movies that gave me hours of enjoyment, displaying a long grin across my face as I watched the unsuspecting meet their demise at the hands of my horror character icons.

I’ve always and still do root for the monsters of the movies that scare others to the point of putting sheets over their heads, while I set a table of snacks waiting for them to knock on my door. I envision moments filled with laughter as we share the thrill of jump scares and chase scenes in the movies. Perhaps that’s where I became too much to handle for the countless lovers that would enter my lifetime, each introduction steeped in a blend of terror and thrill that only true horror fans can appreciate.

As I grew, so did my taste in horror movies and their accompanying props. I started collecting many horror collectibles, which subsequently birthed my “house of horrors.” This isn’t just a mere collection; it’s an extension of my passion and personality. Each item tells a story, reflecting my journey through the eerie and macabre world of horror. From vintage movie posters to intricate figurines of iconic characters, my collection transforms my living space into a sanctuary for those who share an appreciation for the genre.

In hosting gatherings, I aim to create an immersive experience, where friends can relive their favorite horror moments, critiquing plots and debating the scariest monsters. Every corner of my house is filled with memorabilia, fostering discussions about the evolution of horror films, their impact on society, and the psychological effects they invoke. This space, filled with eerie decorations and a blend of nostalgia and fear, becomes a haven for like-minded souls, inviting horror enthusiasts to deepen their love for this genre.

Ultimately, my fascination with horror transcends mere entertainment; it weaves a rich tapestry of memories, connections, and shared experiences with every person I’ve introduced to this thrilling universe.

I’m not a cover on a book

Sadly, no one knows the real me. The passionate guy who cares deeply about that one special person in my intimate life and the friend or friends I would stand by thick or thin, supporting them through every challenge and triumph. Unfortunately, I stand thin in all the relationships I have at this very moment, feeling more like a bystander in my own life than an active participant. Relationships come in many forms, and I’m thin with every one of them because of my passions and who I am as an artist and person, often consumed by my creative pursuits, which can make it difficult to forge genuine connections. I say this because I had two or three potential long intimate relationships I could’ve had in these past eight years, opportunities that might have blossomed into something beautiful, but because of being my real self and showing up authentically instead of presenting a polished facade that hides my true essence, I’m judged before I was even opened up and read, leading to missed chances and lingering loneliness, making me question if my openness is a curse rather than the blessing I hope it to be.

Sincerely,

David L

Healing With Art