When some of us were children we would take a box to a chosen girl. She was surprised and happy, but when she opened the box she found a severed finger with blood all over it that could wiggle. It is at that moment we find why we write horror. The high pitched sustained scream of fright and surprise when the poor little girl found that what was in the box was no ring, but a gruesome image. The first shriek of surprise and fear thrills us to our core.
We are touched so deeply and profoundly by that first change that it forever changes us. On our most primal level. In the most fertile dark of our own souls a satisfaction begins to live that is uniquely our own. We nurture it, feed it, enjoy it, and love it. We purposefully make it a part of ourselves ensuring that it invades every piece of flesh and every cell we have. Nothing else on this earth or known to man thrills and completes us the way that delicious horror can. It makes life worth living thus it gives our lives true meaning. We gain from this true fulfillment.
Horror becomes romantic to us. The thing that never tells us no, nor will it ever tell us that we are not good enough. Never judging us and complete and total acceptance of who we are and what we want. We love it and it loves us right back. We are in love with it because we are impassioned so powerfully by very little to nothing else. It frees us and we gain every freedom through it.
To conclude. Horror is the warm, soft blanket we wrap ourselves in for comfort, identity, and strength.
Bio: My name is Andy Bove, however I use William Bove for my author name. My home is in St.Charles , MO where I live with family . I have no pets and a wonderful girlfriend. I am 41 years of age. St.Charles, MO is highly know for its very haunted areas. The city of St. Louis , Mo which is 25 minutes away is famous for the Events that lead to The Exorcist