Imagination be Damed

I and my lovely soon to be wife have made the vast and all too common plunge into debt by purchasing a home. Some would say it isn't really debt but rather an investment. It may be that why when we decide to sell it, but until then it feels like debt. (More about the house and photos will follow at a later date and time.) The house itself is located in the city and since I have an overactive imagination I have been noticing how similar my house is to that of murder victims on crime shows. Years upon years of living in the suburbs will do that to you. Every crime show on TV is showing the most vicious and vile crimes happening in the city too try and shock viewers into sticking around for commercials.

Years of watching that really helps you see dark figures wielding sharpened spoons hiding around corners waiting to slice you open and feast on your spleen while masturbating over your dying corpse. Then they rape your dead body, twice. But lucky there is a handsome young detective there to console your grieving wife who finds the one piece of evidence everyone has over looked leading to a high speed chase down a freeway ending in a full on, no reservations gun battle in an abandoned warehouse. Resulting in the bloody death of they bad guy at the hands of the handsome detective and the happy ever after life for the widow.

Sometimes at night when I look at either one of my neighbor’s houses I start to picture a dark basement full of people they have been drugged and shackled to the wall waiting to be tortured. At night skin is cut off their bodies in little pieces while the toururer draws whiskers on their face with blood and then starts sewing the skin into a suit to fit their cat. That way it isn't weird that they want to have a romantic relationship with they cat, because it is in a human suit, making it look like a little person... with four legs... that purrs...not weird.

Every time I walk into my garage at night I expect to find an underground cock fight ring surrounded by a vicious mob of the most disreputable types of people screaming incoherent curses at the poultry gladiators while drinking some chilled malt beverages. Then I get stabbed in the face because I didn't know the password. As I lye there bleeding profusely from my face the fleeing mob of immoral cock wranglers trample me beneath their feet as the try to avoid the police that have arrived on scene to arrest these perpetrators. The organizer pulls me up as a human shield while he wildly fires and full automated weapon and the police. Once the ensuing fire fight has finished I am arrested for underground illegal cock fighting and get the death penalty.

Most of my imaginary scenarios involve things of that nature. I feel they may be more disturbing than most peoples. I only really saw these imaginary moments of time at night while walking through the darkness to throw that trash out when I first moved to the house. Now I really don’t see them anymore mainly because after I imagine them and they don’t happen to me that means I’ve already seen it and it’s pretty unbelievable to think about. Maybe next season I’ll see something better.