Last Girls Night

So I’m out with my sisters the other night, doin girl stuff…ogling…drinking…swearing…that’s right,..we do it too. Across the street, just near the alley, I see this guy.

Now, I noticed him before. And he’s handsome. But he’s been there a while…or we have. He’s always just watching, always watching. (If you heard that in the voice of Roz from Monsters Inc…good. It was intentional).

By now one of the sisters has noticed. I think she’s nervous. Her eyes just got really wide…maybe she knows him! But before I can ask, we are moving, quickly. I’m confused…whats causing this? Surely not….I look back and Mr. Handsome is gone.

I reign in the girls, wanting to know what the fuck the deal is. It’s a bitch to speed walk in these heels after all.

“Didn’t you see that guy?”

Well…yeah…of course I did. What’s the issue?  He was harmless. Just a friendly lurker. The looks I get range from a smirk to complete horror. Now I’m REALLY confused. I point out to my darling sisters that he’s GONE…pointing back the way we came.

The stare. You know the one. It’s the look of pure terror…now pure terror has many faces. Terror that someone’s crush just walked up behind them while his/her name was spoken. Terror of an upcoming project…but this was a sight to behold. This look….the one where your voice ceases, your breath stops, heart pounds, eyes open wide…I see you smiling. You love that look.

So I turn, not really expecting anything THAT terrifying, and I run into Mr. Handsome. Imagine my shock…the guy is a ninja. He’s dressed sharply, looks great in blue, He’s holding an axe. Interesting accessory…must be a free spirit. I turn back to the girls…smiling.

“Hey!! It’s that guy!”

And they’re gone. Nice…my sisters abandoned me to suffer alone. I hate it when I don’t have backup while chatting up a cute guy. I turn back and find the axe raised…

What the Hell….that’s a bad first impres….
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Death Maiden

Bravery

The kids are all excited at the prospect of dressing up as their favourite cartoon characters, serial killers and demons and angels alike.  It is Halloween, or Samhain in my house, and it is usually a joyful time of blood, horror movies, and decorating for my little family.

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This year it’s become very apparent that what I began to deal with at age 4 has come round to start kicking me in the ass.  I am not ready but to bleed cures the soul and so I begin.

My family, by birth, though supportive, does not understand what makes this Dark Governess who she is.  And this will not help any either.  But the catharsis of bleeding is necessary…and imperative

You see, I began to “See” at age 4.  For those that do not know what that means, I had my first experience with the paranormal at that age,  It is one I have never recounted for anyone, save my sisters 3, who though not sisters at birth, are sisters at heart, and they accept and love me no matter what.

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I recount this now, for my own son, has started to See now as well…and what I had buried at the back of my darkest mind, has come to call, demanding its price.

I remember the day well…sunny, warm…I was playing in my room with the Wendy Walker doll I had gotten for Christmas.  I loved that damn doll, dressing her up, fixing her hair, playing make believe…

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I could hear my mother downstairs, talking on the phone, my brother was baby and was crying over top of the sound of my mother’s voice.  The darkness was within me even then, threatening to eat me alive.

I had been harbouring a secret, not old enough to understand why or even to understand what the consequences of silence were.  At this time, my grandfather and the babysitter’s husband had taken it into their minds to begin to molest me.  They were systematically destroying the innocence I had.

Understand, this is the first time in my 42 years I have spoken aloud of this experience, and I am afraid.  Secrecy has gone too long and has eaten at me too long.  As I write this to you I cry, for I know that it will not be accepted by all.

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This destruction of my child’s soul had been going on about 6 months, and I was already at the stage of wanting to leave, to let the darkness take me, justifying it in my mind that they wouldn’t miss me, no one noticed me anyway..  I was thinking on this when I started hearing whispering coming from behind me.  I remember the words so clearly as if I am hearing them now.

“Don’t go.  Don’t go.”

I couldn’t understand who was saying this.  I went to the stairs and listened…no…not from there.  There was no one in the bedrooms…I was alone…as I had been a lot in those days.

The whispering continued…I began to be frightened…but still, a child of 4…trying to analyse what was happening.

That was when it happened…that damnable doll.  She opened her eyes.  I remember my heart pounding with fear…she sat up….I couldn’t scream.  I couldn’t move.  She turned her head, and stared at me.  This was impossible.  This COULDN’T be happening.  She spoke.

“Don’t be afraid.  I won’t hurt you.”

My nerve broke. I screamed…I ran.  The doll sat there as if placed…staring after me.  And that was exactly how it was received.  From that day on, though the molestation eventually stopped, the visions, whispering and sightings did not.

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To this day, I am visited by the biologically challenged…I’m like a fucking parade.  Not that I mind…my Ghostly housemates are wonderful to have around, and they feel like family.

Difficult as it is to live with this…talent? Plague? I continue to try to help the Passed, help the living, and find a place in the middle where I can be happy.

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As for my son, teaching him the ways will be an interesting ride.  He will be stronger than I am, without a single doubt.  And I am fine with that.

Death Maiden

Going to the Matt….Farnsworth that is

If this reads like a love letter, get the Hell over it.  It is, of a kind.

If you stalk twitter in recent months, you will see an influx of panting females, lusting over an extremely handsome man, and, in THIS sister’s not so quiet or humble opinion, one of the most brilliant minds of our time.  Now he is probably smirking while he reads this, but I DID say not quiet or humble.

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Matt Farnsworth, actor, writer, director, producer, Mad King; No matter what you call him, he is still the most personable, interactive and sexy guy out there in cyber-dom and he is bringing the female social media population to its knees

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The first thing that draws you in are those amazing blue eyes.  Jeepers Creeper but the madness of these soul-sucking peepers!!  Yes, he IS physically delicious.  Have zero doubt…you only have to scope out his selfies to see that for yourself.

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Leering and suggestive comments aside, the ladies agree, Matt has one beautiful mind.  He gave life to Dying For Meth, Iowa and the problem child we all know and love, from a distance, The Orphan Killer.

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Dying For Meth, the true life story of a family hooked on Methamphetamines.  Along with Diane Foster, he opened a window into addiction, and invited us to gaze upon the devastation.  For me personally, it provided understanding and closure. I invite you to watch and learn.

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From the success of Dying For Meth, came Iowa, the feature film based on the documentary. Matt’s portrayal of Esper Harte was a delight to watch.  It was my first peek into the Well of Madness his mind contains.

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A seed was then planted in Matt’s mind, and this seed did grow, to give birth to The Orphan Killer, the cult classic slasher of our time.  This is truly the bloodiest, most brutal, insanity driven slasher I’ve ever seen.  Not your typical gore-ridden delight this movie.  It brings the bloodlust to a fever pitch and you find yourself drooling with hunger for the next slice.

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There is so much more to this Delightful Devil than what appears on the surface.  In the words of my sisters, “Eye-candy, Brutal, Genius, Beast, Smart, Hot, Enthralling…” Yes….all that and more. He is also kind, sweet, nice…they seem like small insignificant words in comparison, but they speak to the man’s nature in the best of ways.

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Professing to be a beast, which he is indeed, he draws us in and pins us to the wall, helpless but to adore.  This girl is delighted to remain so.

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So begins the next chapter, TOK 2 Bound x Blood.  Matt Farnsworth is preparing to feed us more brutality, bloodlust, and cruelty and we accept the gift he offers gratefully.

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www.theorphankiller.com  The Bloody Official Site

www.theorphankillerstore.com  Where to buy the movie

Iowa (2005) – http://www.imdb.com/rg/s/1/title/tt0372346

Dying for Meth (2006) – http://www.imdb.com/rg/s/1/title/tt0823624

The Orphan Killer (2011) – http://www.imdb.com/rg/s/1/title/tt1179071

Follow @Mattfarnsworth on Twitter

 

Diane Foster: Worship at the Bloody Altar

“Awesome, Beautiful, Intense, Intelligent, Hot…”

These are just some of the words floating around Cyber-dom being used to describe Diane Foster. And this girl wholly and with pounding heart agrees. They eye can’t help but ravage this beauty.

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In today’s day and age, there are few true classic beauties that strike eyes and crush our hearts quite like Diane. This lady is the whole package; a brazen lovely with killer eyes, a body to shame the Gods, and a mind that blows us all out of the water.

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And she is more than just eye-candy, she is a powerhouse of talent. Diane has provided a strong role model for women out there. As co-producer of Dying for Meth, along side Matt Farnsworth, they brought us the story of a family hooked on Methamphetamines, that has taught more than just myself the true story of addiction. A deep and true to life story of how just one small town has fallen victim to this drug and the people addicted in it.

As Donna in Iowa, the film based on Dying for Meth, she acted a stunner of a role, dragging us gasping alongside. If you haven’t watched either of these films I heartily recommend both.

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Just when you thought it couldn’t get any more intense, born is The Orphan Killer, the problem child of Matt Farnsworth. Diane brought Audrey Miller to the brink of insanity in this gut-wrenching, cringing role, bringing her audience along through each terror filled, agonizing step of the way. The strength she portrays is incredible, and you find yourself cheering her along as she struggles to survive the deadly attentions of her Big Brother Marcus.

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The talent of this cruel beauty has woken the world to a new type of Pin Up Queen…a woman comfortable in her own skin and unafraid to show us her whole self. In this sister’s opinion, Diane brings her fans, all of whom love and adore her, men and women alike, to their knees, to worship at the bloody alter and for that we are all grateful.

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Iowa can be purchased on iTunes or Amazon.com

The Orphan Killer can be purchased on iTunes or at http://www.theorphankillerstore.com

Check out www.theorphankiller.com for interviews, videos and news of TOK 2 Bound x Blood

Love is a Beast

“Love is gentle…love is kind”….I call bullshit. Love is neither. Love is a vicious voracious animal that can and often does eat you alive. It is fiercely protective of its own, fighting to the death to keep itself breathing.

Love is cruel

It bleeds, spouting poetry, or explicatives, screaming in silence or singing movement. Nothing is stronger, as it fights to its last breath, usually shouting curses.

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I speak of love as a starving Beast…beautiful to look at but with huge glistening teeth and sharpest claws. And it is truth, as I stand true before you I testify to this. It feeds on happiness, sorrow, on our blackest days, or most joyful moments.

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When you feel the darkness calling, look about you. You are being stalked by the Love Beast. It cares, it bites deep, and it can shout you home. You just need to expose your throat and let it carry you.

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When Worlds Collide

I know you can hear me.
You say I’m cold. I don’t feel cold.
Seems my hands are as warm as yours.

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It’s cold here.
I can feel the heat blazing from you in waves.
Like a bonfire…a pyre.

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Can you feel me?
Waving my hand by your face,
running it down Your arm.
Goose pimples rise from the heat on your skin.

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I’m here. Feel me pinching you?
Memories whisper of perfume…cologne. Powder.
Rustle of clothing.
Tinkle of chimes as I run my fingers through them.
Here where you can’t see me.
A glimpse. A different place. Time.

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There are others here.
Our personal afterlives.
Merge, linger, move away..overlap.

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Sometimes they merge into the same place and time.
Different perspectives.
Then it’s a love story.
A lifelong friendship.
A family.

Death Maiden