I was aware on some level, as a child growing up in Wisconsin, that there was some predetermined role that I was being cast into, as though in a social experiment involving some kind of ill-intended scrutiny. Having participated in social-psychological experiments, it always begs the question of what the nature and purpose of the experiment is, since it would most lifely defeat the purpose if they told you up front.
After I took up self-mutilation at the age of 12, as a teenager I became more and more obsessed with fantasies involving bleeding and disfigurement. In my mind, I would visualize the slow-motion physiological destruction of classmates screaming into the void while being displayed as living dissections. I would study myself between 2 mirrors and visualize carving my head and face like a pumpkin.
To this day, I still have similar associations with these words in the “vein” of bleeding, disfigurement, decapitation, dissection, mutilation, dismemberment. They are words that my mind has charged with an odd form of catharsis, and I do see this as at least somewhat predetermined. Understandable, though, since it was one way to process abuse and in that sense it has served its purpose.
In contrast to all this, I have always been very much into physical self-maintenance. I enjoy strength and vitality, and I generally respect others who do as well. I cannot relate to those who don’t care about their bodies.
Meanwhile, somewhere behind the scenes of current events, blood circulates through animated human bodies, beating hearts, organs, tissues and systems accommodating for all the nonsense consumed by the individual in order to maintain an identity and self-image, hard-wired conditioned responses behind pretenses.
And as those in the west become more and more detached from their physical bodies, it begs the question: What sort of catalyst would bring them back to themselves?
May 1, 2017