|Satan gonna grab you|
My fear of moths blossomed when I was on a family vacation in the Caribbean. One night, I was walking back to our hotel room with my brother, when a gigantic moth the size of my 11 year old hands (they were big; I was pudgy) exploded onto the scene, materializing out of thin air/evil. Rather than remain calm (no one remains calm) and ignore the erratic, flying monstrosity blocking my way, I elbowed my brother in the side, leaving him behind (bait) to fend for himself against the gargantuan mutant created by Satan's underlings. I ran the rest of the way to our hotel room, passing what I remember were hundreds of moths adorning hotel walls - their eyes and antennae followed me (I had offended their master, their king, and I would pay) - and bolted myself shut inside. My poor brother arrived moments later, but I refused to open the door until I was certain he posed no threat to me (bitten by a radioactive moth perhaps? Moth Man prophecies?? Reincarnation of MOTHRA???).
|artistic rendering: looking into the face of evil|
I now associate this fear with my father, because if he had never pushed back that goddamn curtain, I never would've held witness to hundreds of fluttering wings. Even though this fear probably would have developed one way or another on that trip (considering I was fucking surrounded by them almost the entire time), I prefer to blame my father for it because isn't that what parents are for?
Because my mom was competent enough for the both of them, and stressed all of the normal parental advice (don't eat dirt; never talk to strangers etc), my dad took liberties in the truths he relayed to his children. He told me they kept the dead bodies inside the pews in Church so I wouldn't act up. He told me his secret ingredient in everything was saliva. His interests include gardening, eating and sugar.
|my dad is a lot like Homer Simpson|
Then he cackled a little, the way dads do when they stress out their children in psychologically damaging ways.
My logical mind - the tiny, whispered voice in my head - is usually smothered by hyperbole and exaggerated thought. I sit still in Church. I walk around (not on, NEVER ON) sidewalk grates. I cover my ears, close my eyes and take off at a running start when a moth flies near me. This is their world. I'm only living in it.
|the future: December 21, 2012|