(no subject)

[blustocking]

The image of my chest bursting open like a flower just flashed through my head.
It was somewhat appealing.

Comments

[ex-sia857.livejournal.com]

Thursday I had to do a Customer Appreciation Day thing at work, which basically means that we barbecue for our customers and it's the lamest, most fucked-up, GAYEST thing in the world, and I hate this annual tradition.

Anyway.

I was walking back to the breakroom with a very sharp knife after slicing some tomatoes, and a vision flashed in my head - what would happen if I took this knife, jammed it into my stomach, and twisted it a few times?

For someone who hates blood and physical pain as much as I do, this brief fantasy of disemboweling myself was somewhat disturbing in its appeal.

Uhm, anyway, I'm not sure if this relates at all to your entry, but hey. At least I'm sharing.

[blustocking.livejournal.com]

It does, because I do that ALL THE TIME. I think I would have a hard time with the actual act, as the breaking of bones FREAKS ME THE FUCK OUT, but I play with my letter opener constantly. Often, when I go back to fax something, I wonder what it would be like to jab my pen into my stomach. Sometimes I make the motion of doing so...I hope no one sees that. :}

Wee! Too much info! ;)

[ex-sia857.livejournal.com]

It's of concern to me because I NEVER have these thoughts or fantasies, but they come often and easily these days.

For instance, EVERY time I'm on a freeway transition that curves and is significantly above ground, I fantasize about continuing to go forward instead of steering with the curve.

It's scary - mostly because car crashes and blood and all of that jazz normally sends shivers down my spine, but for some reason lately, I just ponder these things with the interest and emotion that I feel when flicking a speck of lint from my thigh.

Re:

[blustocking.livejournal.com]

Oh...crap....should I be worried. I do that nearly all the time, especially in cars. What control, complete release of control, and freedom, for however brief, to not "stay within the lines". This is why it is not good for me to drive near large cliffs or bodies of water. There are other reasons for the water-thing, but yes...as I have recently proven, I crave a loss of control.

"What if I just kept going, straight line, right into that guardrail/underpass/building? I could do it. Everyone trusts me not to do it. But I could. And then what would happen." At which point, the various scenerios speed through your head, all broken and bloody.

The simple fact that I could take someone with me, that it would devastate my family, that most of the time, I don't REALLY want to do it, keeps me alive.

[buscemi.livejournal.com]

I think I wrote a poem like that once. All sorts of dark shit used to course through my head. (It still does, but mostly in brief flashes.)