a history of monsters

“There is no such thing as evil. The concept of evil is a crutch…To perceive something as “evil” is to imagine that object, that person, is not a part of me. He’s something else…”

I just finished reading a book called Das Energi by Paul Williams, which is where I pulled the above quote from. Published in the 70’s, Das Energi is a quick read essentially about hippie spiritualism (disclaimer: definately not a read for everyone. I usually scoff at this sort of peace, love and happiness, new-age self help, but for some reason I started reading this book and it just struck a cord.)
Now this post is not about cosmic humanism or anything that may blow your mind, man, but rather the quote above got me thinking about my lifelong search for monsters and ghosts.

When I was younger, I was determined to write the greatest ghost story of all time; the only thing stopping me was to be scared to death. I told myself, “once, just once I need to interact with a ghost, run from a real monster or fear for my soul, then the story would come pouring out of me”.

I spent the better part of my youth hosting seances in my basement, playing with Ouija boards, watching horror movies that spanned the eras of film and sneaking out late at night to find demonic adventures. But to no avail, I was left untouched and unafraid. 
Frustration swept over me every time I would sit under the cedar tree in my backyard, pen to paper, ready to write. But I had nothing to write about. I tried to imagine myself as the narrators in the real-life ghost stories I read. I would close my eyes and pretend to be running from half man-half animal creatures or how it would feel to be woken from my sleep by closet door mysteriously slamming shut. Yet, still I was left in a state of still feeling safe and safety does not spur tales of fright.

As years went by and I got older, my pursue for monsters faded as certain elements of real life started to become scarier than any ghoul or ghost I could conjure up in my mind. 

I still love to try to scare myself. I may have forgone the Ouiji boards and the spells but I still like to run around forests at night, watch every horror movie I can and imagine the reason my apartment creeks and cracks is because its haunted not just old. I guess I can only explain it as it keeps my heart racing and forever looking over one shoulder.