rosemary’s baby (1968)

mhmm. spiralling down the rabbithole of cultism, manson and the 1969 satanic panic murders as this month’s hyperfixation…then choosing to watch rosemary’s baby alone in your room at 3 am for the very first time well aware that i am but a meek little fuck….a profoundly jarring experience that almost qualifies as psychic self harm. but fr, there’s something inexplicably eerie about watching a film so steeped- scratch that, foundationally embedded- in cultural paranoia and occult hysteria knowing the creepy historical shadow that hangs over it. look up the uncanny coincidences surrounding this film it’s fucking nuts. every rustle of leaves outside my window and faint clanking of utensils from our neighbour’s flat above suddenly sounds a lot more pronounced (why is someone even handling cutlery at 5 in the morning oh my god) feel good trashy tv love island reels NOW!!!