w.e.l.c.o.m.e.
get around using the links on the right
leave some love on the shout box
“There are so many hammocks to catch you if you fall,
so many laws to keep you from experience.
All these cities I have been in the last few weeks make me fully understand the cozy,
stifling state in which most people pass through life.
I don't want to pass through life like a smooth plane ride.
All you do is get to breathe and copulate and finally die.
I don't want to go with the smooth skin and the calm brow.
I hope I end up a blithering idiot cursing the sun -
hallucinating, screaming, giving obscene and inane lectures on street corners and public parks.
People will walk by and say, "Look at that drooling idiot. What a basket case."
I will turn and say to them
"It is you who are the basket case. For every moment you hated your job,
cursed your wife and sold yourself to a dream that you didn't even conceive.
For the times your soul screamed yes and you said no. For all of that.
For your self-torture, I see the glowing eyes of the sun! The air talks to me! I am at all times!"
And maybe, the passers by will drop a coin into my cup.”
-Henry Rollins
w.o.r.d.s.
Saturday, June 25, 4:15 p.m.
When I was hunting through bmezine I came across an article called The Darker Side Of Self-Injury. It was written by some random subscriber, but a lot of what she said fits so perfectly to my reasons...fellings etc that I've decided to post some of it.
http://www.bmezine.com/ritual/A50622/rittheda.html That's the link to the whole article. I'm just putting chunks...quotes...whatever.
"nothing that I have ever done to my body has been planned in advance, it is more like a trance that takes over my body and mind."
"Ever since that time I have been a walking façade. I have become a master at appearing "normal" for the general public and almost every friend I have ever had. I suppose that the psychological term "self-injurer" applies to me. According to my readings these unstructured cutting episodes are a result of not having better coping mechanisms. I do not think that anyone really has the answer."
"It was an obsession. It was all that I could think about if I was allotted any time to myself. I made sure to do everything in my power not to give in to the desire but once my constant companion, depression, would hit a severe low it was almost a way of committing a mock suicide. Not many would understand this, but I believe that it kept me alive. The cuts were superficial, nothing that I would ever have to have emergency medical attention for, at least. I kept my cuts secret from the world. They were mine and mine alone. A cutting incident would usually keep me from cutting again for some time. It was enough for me to feel the sting when I made contact with anything or to look at the cuts that I had made. My wounds would heal."
"I needed the pain to stop. I needed my mind to shut down and the cutting gave me that power. It drowned out everything else but the objects of my affection at the time which were my blade, my skin and my blood. I had control."
Sometimes I wonder what's so wrong with using this as a coping technique. And sometimes I knew what's so wrong with it.
I have the word precious carved into my wrist to remind me that when I fall, I fall hard.
