I’ve been thinking about monsters.
“We’ve all got a monster inside of us, Clarke. And we’re all responsible for what it does when we let it out”. — Lincoln, The 100
Sylvia Plath, Mirror. Frank Stanford, Death and the Arkansas River. It’s about honesty, it’s about confronting your demons, it’s about coming face to face with lurking shadows. Most people are just fine with ignoring them, but when they come out when we’re not ready, we’re either too scared to confront them or too scared to understand them. And then, when some people decide to confront those demons, we mistake fascination with obsession; the line between good and evil shrinks and therefore seems poorly drawn. But that’s not it. Monsters and darkness and demons—those things are mesmerizing because they have no place in our “right” world. In the deepest, most suffocating way, they remind us of estrangement, of a shattered world, of death. Because monsters aren’t just reflections of otherworlds and the uncanny; they’re reflections of ourselves.