A few days ago, I woke up to the sun cascading it’s glowing aura down on me. I lay there trying absorb this moment in time and I felt the world slow down for me. I felt the knowledge of time slip away from me and I was in this impermeable bubble of suspended animation. For a spilt second, nothing was wrong and I was content with everything until I sat up and looked down at my legs. Since it was quite warm the previous night, I had slept in nothing but my underwear (pardon the awful mental image) so my odious and contemptible thighs were exposed. My bubble had burst and the beautiful glow from the sun had turned into a spotlight, showing my shame to the world.
As they shone in the sun, I initially felt anger mixed with this actual nausea but strangely enough, it turned into this incredible sense of reverence. For the first time in my life, I thought they looked beautiful. Some of them white, some of them raised and some faded in time. As I traced them with my fingers and I felt the memories wash over me, some of them decaying me, some of them regenerating. I was mesmerised by my own skin and I felt like I was touching the skin of another. And for some strange reason, it made me realise I am in love.
I am in love with the distorted. I like the ugly. I like the wrong and the macabre. I am a masochist and I like leaving blemishes on me that will stay with me for the rest of my life. I like the pain and I’ve grown to love the shame. I’ve grown to love the guilt of the blood leaving my body. My mind has spun upside down, I love what I should fear and I fear what everyone else deems normal. It scares me how much I like the other side. It scares me how much I want to just give in and go.
Alas, I won’t. All I will leave will be more lesions and more blemishes on people. I wish to lessen the effect I have on this disgusting keloid scar covered world. And I just realised that this post makes no sense. Thousand apologies.