Erich and I got to bed a bit too late last night. I’m paying for it today, even though I got to sleep in until 8 this morning.
We grabbed Chinese food for dinner at a place on the Avon town line– it used to be called Lings, and Erich loved their sesame beef. It was bought by someone else, renamed, changed over to new staff… the whole nine yards. Food was good, but a bit too sweet in large dosages. Then again, I did get General Tso, which varies between ultra spicy and sickeningly sweet, depending on where you go. It was decent stuff *shrug*
Afterwards, we went home and watched Escape from New York, Erich’s kind attempt to get me into brigand mode for our Saturday game. It helped a little, although I have to admit, there’s not quite as much Snake Pliskin in it as I remember. While I had a decent image of the character in my mind, I’m having trouble putting it into action. Granted, it’s still a new and low-level character, so ideas are limited by my abilities right now… but hopefully I can figure stuff out. We’ll see.
After that, Erich decided to watch part of Resident Evil, which he bought at Blockbuster in their “pre-viewed” bin. He said he was just going to watch part of it (given that he started at 11 p.m.) and then we’d go to bed. I remember how difficult it was to watch the first time around, and was a bit worried I’d start having nightmares from it, so I left the room and went to the computer room to play some sunny Tropico for a while. I just can’t stomach viral warfare well. Even in a movie, germ warfare (or nuclear accident illness) is a bit too difficult for me to watch. It’s just too real, and too scary for me. I couldn’t even sit where I’d easily hear the movie. *shudder* For some stupid reason, however, I do okay with the Resident Evil video game– it doesn’t bother me. Probably because I’m always watching someone else play it (I’ve never tried the game myself), and since I’m once-removed, I’m able to relax a bit more. But movies, when there are real actors involved, it’s too real. Special effects are too real these days– too effective in blending in with the film. And my mind tends to run away with things, long after I’ve watched them.
For example, I mentioned this morning to Erich how all of my dreams last night had people walking around like the little people in Tropico– with background music. I’ve had Sims dreams, too. Occasionally with little stalls in the movement as if my brain were a computer trying to keep up with the memory bandwidth.
I’d prefer to stay away from the Resident Evil ones, thanks.
What never has made sense is that I never seem to do as badly with reading. My assumption would be that without the limits of seeing what the horror is, my mind would go apeshit creating its own depths from the page descriptions. But I’m never affected like I am when I see something. The only exception I can think of would be when I first read Children of the Corn by Stephen King. But then again, I was also 14 at the time. Perspective makes a huge difference, I suppose. At 14 (and a rather devout little pacifist Christian at the time), that story struck a nerve in me that scared the shit out of me. Perhaps, at age 27.999, I have instinctive safety catches on how deep my imagination will go down that road of horror or gore, since I am so sensitive in seeing it.
Perhaps it’s that boundary that has prevented me from really going deep into writing at times, too. A fear of the unknown, perhaps? Or is it a fear of what I might find lurking underneath that boundary? And am I willing to break through it?