pat.riot (sardiuswinter_) wrote in ljspores,

Theory + Thoughts on Self-Multilation

PS: its been a long time since i posted prose onto LJ so i forgot how to do LJ entry cuts. anyway, noticed that this is a prose-prone (hey alliteration) community so my first post shall be one of the few pieces of prose that i wrote. (i do poetry most of the time, mainly.) leave a note about your opinons. it would be highly appreciated. thanks.

Sometimes I wonder why people slash their wrists and multilate themselves after falling out of love, or simply when they are fucked up with life and its drudgery, that they resort to self-destruction.

A sharp knife is a powerful tool. It can pierce the human flesh without sending any painful nerves to the brain, allowing the free flow of blood - crimson, warm juice; with it comes the release of torrents of pent-up emotions.

We remember the story of Adam and Eve, right. And so they started the history of sin after being tempted to eat the cursed apple and falling from grace. From then onwards, beautiful, strong man then became a symbol of imperfection and suffering; once reflecting the very glory of God but now, carrying the burden of sins which then became deeply ingrained into man's entire being. Man became a sinner. Born of the seed of man, descendants of Adam and Eve subsequently took on in their forefathers' footsetps, releasing their primitive nature of fury, showing their temper which had gone out of control, and inventing a whole new lline of heinous acts: murder, rape and adultery, each more gruesome and unpleasing in God's eyes. The blood that flows in our veins now saturates with the poisons of sins, encompassing our whole body and transmitting more warped and perverted impulses to the human mind (which, by the way, are better known as gut instincts).

Returning to the topic of discussion, it is then through logical deductions (from all above observations), that one can conject that when the razor blade permeates the human flesh with flaws fashioned into it, the release of intoxicated blood would give release to the tormented soul; the trapped spirit and the vexed mind.

Some exclaim the mild exhilaration, and sense of freedom to watch blood running away from the pale, white wrists; its sins being diluted by water from the running tap.

And after everything, they'd clear up the mess, place a clean, fresh plaster to cover the wound that has been created, put on their daily, ritualistic mask and face the world again. They feel that they have been renewed, repaired and restored. It felt so good, they say.

Here's something that they'd left out though: the wound takes a long time to heal, and after which it would leave a scar that would stay for good. It would serve to remind themselves how they had hurt God, their Father, and nobody but themselves.

why did you
why did you
gotta take it out on you
just because of that rookie chick
who cheats girls and steals their hearts
why did you

He's not worth it
It's not worth it
Nothing's worth it
so why did you
why did you
why did you
Promise me, that you never would,
ever, again
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