for connoisseurs of horror

just because pol ang appreciates my morbid dreams.

this one has been a recurring dream since childhood. started way back when i had an irrational fear of my uncle the ex-band member (they played in club dredd together with the fledgling eraserheads!)

he looked like slash of guns n’ roses fame, and he covered his room with posters of a very hirsute James Hetfield with his Metallica buddies, damn their commercialized anti-piracy souls to the pits of Billboard Top 100 hell. when he started working, he cut his hair to conform with corporate standards of good grooming. stuffed those long curly locks inside a plastic bag and then into a drawer.

i lived with my grandparents, uncles and aunts in a two-storey rental apartment in San Andres Bukid, Manila. there were two bedrooms, reached by climbing a proper staircase with thick, sturdy wooden steps. they had floors made of wooden planks, polished by generations of soles. we rarely closed our bedroom doors. we weren’t sticklers for privacy. and it was hot. come to think of it, that place was haunted. by a newly married couple bayoneted by the Japs. but that’s another story altogether.

i remember, in that dream, i went up that staircase, turned to enter the bedroom to my right, and found my uncle affixing electrodes to my aunts’ skulls. apparently he wanted to fry their brains while still in their skulls and eat them afterwards, nice and tender and flavorful.

jeebus, i was an eight-year-old, i think. it scarred me for life.

come to think of it, my aunts were never tied up. they were just seated on the floor mewling in fear. that was kind of stupid.

cthulhu lovin’

riled up, i am, because it seems that i will be unable to shimmy my ass to the UP Fair due to grandparental restrictions. but, as i’ve said, i’m gonna play nice and sublimate all my tempestuous energies into something more productive. that’s the adult way, you know. beat up a couple of naked underage girls after you’ve lost a big sale… so, make me happy!

a cthulhu chess set!

a clearinghouse for darkly funny fashion… plunge into the abyss here.

basically i just moped online looking for hp lovecraft nuggets, while intermittently staring at my cute pug wallpaper. console me, my terrier-japanese spitz mongrel Porky just died, and i am ready to honor his memory by replacing him with an absolutely horrid-looking yet adorable pug. me want pug.

oh, and i have to type this lovecraft-inspired dream down. it’s so bizarre. i might have been reading one of his cannibalism stories again. anyway, in that dream, me and a group of friends were traveling home, when one of us decided to ask the driver to make a detour and visit the home of a strange cult, you know, for anthropological curiosity’s sake. cue dark warehouse in the midst of a forested nowhere, with a tall thin man with stringy straight hair to his shoulders leading the worshippers in some strange rite. and lo! when i look inside the door, there is this naked (yeah, naked!) woman with one leg sawn off at the knee, lying in a basin of blood.

she was alive, in a trance, and chanting. and there were huge gouges of flesh bitten off her other thigh, the one which still had a leg attached to it. then said cult leader comes up to us and invites us to observe and make ourselves at home. coming up to me he gives me this long, deep sniff, as if he was trying to ascertain how tasty i was from the way i smelled. basta this animal, hungry sniffing.

so, trying to act intellectual and relatively unaffected by the gruesome rites, i asked a woman what they were doing a few moments earlier. apparently they were savoring the meat of a willing sacrifice, something spiritual about eating someone who’s still alive and willing to be eaten, right?

then we all went home, but we were quite surprised to find out that only three of us alighted from the bus. i swear on azathoth’s unspoken name, the bus was full of people.

then i woke up in a sweat, proceeded to sleep again and dream of going around in my dreamland version of greenbelt looking for a starbucks. i dunno why, i already passed a CBTL and a seattle’s best at the last corner, now i’m at the fruit market but can’t find my coffee fix.