Saturday, April 17, 2004

Cosmopolis. Self destruction. Self realisation. Self awareness.

I surround myself with so many layers of facades, of self imposed realities that I construct for different individuals, I wear masks, I lie, I hide, I smile, burdens, weights on my soul as my reality is fragmented, the links between each reality increasingly fragile and tenuous. If I could view my lives, with a single camera, my actions my thoughts my everything, divided up into tiny boxes, what would I see? A desperate, pitiful attempt to prevent hurt, pain and death. And in all this turmoil, I yearn for something that defines me, something that exhilarates, something that reminds me that I are alive.

Thrill in destruction. Yes there is. When you discard your various defences, physical, mental, till you are left, the infant fresh out of a dead mother's womb, you exist, a purity of being, your naked flesh against the raw primal forces that have ruled over you. There is an eroticism about it. Its an intimacy, both chilling and warm, an intensity of emotions that only exist in a love hate relationship, the same obsessive passion that can save you and tear you apart limb by limb, at the same time.

Why do I cut. I cut because i feel. Alive. Because i can feel blood flowing out of my veins, flowing, there is movement, there is life, there is purity in the release of life into the open as it merges with the external, it is sacred. I cut because my defences are shattered, and I am forced to feel, but i can't feel simply from tears, salt water isn't enough, only blood is. Blood is inextricably connected to life. And without a link between my life and my emotions, they are but a reaction to externalities. With blood, i have a powerful trinity between the world, my emotions and my life. With blood, I know that my emotions are not artificial, not a reality I created for that particular circumstance. It is real, it is authentic.


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