if only tonight we could sleep...

[blustocking]

When I was young, maybe 7 or 8, my parents took me to the largish amusement park about an hour and a half away from our hometown. The only part of this specific visit that I remember is the magic show. The only specific part of this magic show that has been etched on my brain, clouded from time and refurbished by my own mind, is the part that didn't seem appropriate for me to be viewing.

There was a girl, by now in gauzy white, flowing strands of it behind her. The magician, in requisite tails and top hat, cape optional. He somehow lifted her into the air and and placed her above a giant, gleaming dagger. He lowered her and the dagger pierced her back, emerged from her stomach, trailing rivulets of blood...though the blood my mind might have concocted as a way of comprehending. I watched in complete awe. She sank to the bottom of the blade, gesticulating with fluidity, and was removed seconds later, being lifted up the same way. I've seen this trick done, though with variation, since.

And this is what irks me about this. This obviously shaped me in some way. I have a weird thing for magicians. I have constant visions of being impaled. There's something personally thematic about the whole event. I somehow wanted to be that girl. Just now, as I was laying on the floor, my mind drifted to how it would feel, look, to be run through with a sword, a pole, a dagger. But what if that was a dream? What if I'm remembering that whole scenario as a dream I had, possibly when I WAS that age? Ah, brain...you are a tricky bugger. I suppose it doesn't matter. It's enough fodder for artistic purposes.

And no, I don't really want to be impaled. It's not some weird fetish...and for all you armchair-Freuds out there...No, being "impaled on a pole" doesn't mean what you think it means.

Well, fuckshitbitch, looks like they might be refurbishing(click "refurbishing"...I need to change my link colors) the Haunted Mansion on the day we're planning to go...and the days before and after. It's ALMOST not worth it. *scowls, kicks things*

****

Comments

[rapier.livejournal.com]

Ignoring the obvious Freudian stuff, yeah, I think I can understand where that preoccupation comes from. To have something foreign and violent and human-made entering you, piercing your guts; what sort of physical sensation would one have? How badly would it have to hurt before you can't feel the pain anymore? Would the steel of the blade be cold, like it is in the open air? Would you feel the individual splinters of the spear's wooden shaft? How surreal would it be to look down at your abdomen and see the bloodied sharp end of a foil or rapier? Would you touch the blade, just to feel your own slick blood on the steel, just to be sure? What sort of "last words" would you say if you died?

Eh, there probably are some psychosexual .. somethings going on with that particular preoccupation, but it probably doesn't matter a great deal. We all have our weird-shit that goes on in our heads. And I hear ya -- being stuck with a spear or a knife is probably no kinds of fun, and I'd probably just skip it if someone offered to stab me. It's certainly possible to be curious about a sensation, yet have no desire to experience it.

I kind of have the same curiosity about being caught in an explosion, to tell you the truth. As a kid, I'd seen plenty of bad sci-fi TV shows (Buck Rogers, Battlestar: Galactica, etc.) and classic sci-fi movies (Star Wars, Star Trek). If you've seen these kind of things, you know people or robots would fly little space ships and die in fiery, acoustically-identical explosions. It intrigued me for a good long time, how would it feel to die that way? Would you vaporize instantly and feel no pain? Would you have a few agonizing fractions of a second where your body is being broken and torn apart by intense pressure? Would you be thrown from the vehicle to suffocate in space? Or bleed to death, if you're on earth? Despite wondering that, I don't think I have a sick fascination with death, nor do I want to be caught in a fiery explosion, but the curiosity that asks, "Man, what has that got to feel like?" is still there.

So, nah, you're not weird. At least, not in any unusual sort of way. ;)

That doesn't sound too bad.

[locopuff.livejournal.com]

I have discovered that a great deal of my current sick sexual fetishes originated from reading a Woody Woodpecker comic book when I was in church with my ma at age 5. Woody Woodpecker was captured by some maharaja-type guy and was tied up with rope, suspended from the ceiling and tortured. I was obsessed with that page.

Re: That doesn't sound too bad.

[blustocking.livejournal.com]

Cocksuckers need to stop walking by my desk...I'm trying to slack off in here! Damn youse!

Yes, but did you see the part about the Haunted Mansion being closed?! AAAAAAAAUGH! p.s. Staci's coming. Heheh. :}

Yes, there was a scene in the bad 80's t.v. show Riptide that stuck with me as well. Some "bad guy" had all of these gold mannequins tied up and lined up, suspended from a wire. The mannequins themselves were in quite submissive poses (though I don't think, as mannquins they would be fighting much). He walked down the line of them, kissed one on the stomach, said something cheesy and dumb, I'm sure, walked a few paces back, and blew each one away with a gun.