razorbladelove

i never liked the searing, burning pain of a paper cutter blade... i sliced across three fingers on my left hand while cutting mounting boards back in art college and it hurt like hell... i pulled the blade across the mounting boards a bit too fast, the damn blade jumped the side and slid across the smooth top surface of the steel ruler... it raced across the hand that was holding down the ruler before i could lift them away from the path of oncoming doom... cutting right through to the bone, three distinct layers - skin, fat and flesh staring at me like a fresh cut of meat at the deli, before a torrent of dark red oozed, no gushed out a few seconds later... i stood rooted and stared... enthralled, in a biological sense, by the stratas of the skin... i mean how often do you get to see all three real life layers? i mean the closest we got was illustrated charts in biology textbooks... i flexed my fingers and they moved, good... i didn't sever any nerves... and off the top of my head, i doubt that there's any important nerves running across the bony top part of the fingers anyways... so there and then, i had to take off my Helmet's "Betty" t-shirt and wrap it around my fingers while my classmates ran around like headless chickens *laughs*

i had people cut me, i had people cut because of me but i've never cut myself... i hate the pain of cutting, not something i can say i would enjoy... i hated the nagging throb, the light headedness and the detached mental-aural feeling where everything is there but it's like you're displaced a few feet away... hence i can never pretend to understand the need of dragging a gillette razor across the wrist... i deal with my problems with ink and piercings... mine is true to that old adage: every piece of ink, every piercing on me is a marker for important/fucked up/happy/sad events in my life... every "whoosh" of the needle through my flesh every and buzz of the tattoo gun on my skin hammers the memories indelibly into my psyche... you need to be pierced with a piercing needle to know that split second wait-rush, that "whooshing" of surgical steel through flesh... none of that stupid sungei wang plastic cap piercing gun shit... you need to be tattooed to know that soothing, hypnotic buzz of the tattoo gun and the high from the slow release of endorphins after the ink settles...

so when i found out a friend of mine did a razorbladelove, i felt somewhat surprised and sad... i should've seen it coming and i should've trusted my gut feelings that told me you're crashing... the "i'm happy"s didn't sound too genuine... the "i'm okay"s snagged at the back of your throat for a split second before coming out of your mouth... and at one point during our chat over the phone, i caught her sobbing once but she quickly sugar-glazed over it with a laugh... warning bells were ringing but still our chat ended rather hastily because my phone battery died on me... i got home, texted you good night and slept on it... we were lucky to have friends that look out for you and know that you're riding that downward spiral... and they got to you in time...

this girl, I like her… but i like her not in a boyfriend-girlfriend kind of way… but from me to her, a very strong brother-sister-kindred spirit way... i am compelled to care what happens to her and get worried when it does... and she has tons of people that cares for her, especially him. So you sillybear, never doubt him…

babe, don't you do dare a razorbledelove again, ever... don't be selfish and deprive me of a beautiful little sister like you... *smiles and hugs tight*





Track Of The Day: Slipknot - Purity