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Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Blood.

I love seeing my own blood. Not because it's the life being drained out of me, but because it's a tiny fraction of the life that's still in me. Bleeding and still being alive gives me a crazy little thrill of how strong I am, of what my body can withstand without even getting dizzy.

Blood is proof. Feeling a knife is one thing, that's subjective, but if blood comes out, that means that I was really cut, that my pain is real. If I don't have marks I don't have a way to prove to myself that I was touched with anything more than bunnyfur, and a mark that breaks my skin, that's the most serious mark of all. I can't be completely a poser if I'm bleeding.

Blood is drama. Interest in BDSM is partly rooted in the love of drama that elevates sex into something more mysterious and powerful than ordinary life, and what's more dramatic than flowing blood?

Blood is beautiful. To me at least. Even a little smear of it is a thrill, a flowing line of it a frightening rush, a single drop a single of so much power and terror. It's so red.

Blood is me. It's my life flowing through my veins, and it's my life to do what I want with--to throw away if I see fit, to give to those who deserve it, to spend on sex and fun as well as "worthy" pursuits.

I'm not completely crazy. I don't want to bleed a lot, I don't want to risk even a scar, much less real injury. But that single shining red drop of it. That's sexy.

7 comments:

  1. Mm, I've been trying to explain this to my more vanilla friends for ages. Well put!

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  2. I feel exactly the same way. Especially about the marks.

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  3. I'll say upfront, blood isn't too special to me. Mostly just a signal that I should get a bandage on that before I get blood everywhere.

    And I gotta admit, the first thought that came to mind was "since when is Holly a cutter?" Just the mention of liking blood tends to brand one as some kind of emo teenager.

    I guess I have sympathy for those who have to deal with that stereotype. I can appreciate how blood is beautiful and dramatic with its color and glossiness... I just can't help that my first thought is "tsk, I'm leaking again."

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  4. I'm not going to say that it's disgusting or wrong, but it's not a mindset that I can easily emphasize with.

    Accidental cutting, whether myself or someone else, just makes me feel a bit sad for some reason. Don't know why. Then, in the case of myself, I also make a note to consume extra protein and iron to make up for it.

    Deliberately cutting myself - I don't think I could do that, being mildly phobic due to some bad things which happened in childhood. Cutting someone else... I probably could do that if they really wanted me to, but I would likely associate that with killing and butchering for meat (which I've done before) and that would take things into a weird place that I'm not sure I'd want to take a relationship into.

    Play piercing would also be problematic, though for somewhat different reasons.

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  5. Maybe I've bled too much by accident. I usually get an "uh oh" feeling from seeing my blood. I realize this betrays a lack of romance and imagination, but the bottom line is that stuff's supposed to be on the inside.

    Being a redneck who does a lot of his own auto and home repairs, I rarely bleed in small amounts.

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  6. I generally agree with anonymous. It's usually just an indicator that I may need a band-aid..or some electrical tape, if the band-aid ain't doing the job.
    It was a somewhat different feeling when I came to on the pavement, with little drops of red all around me. That was more like "Oh, shit, is all that mine? I may be in trouble."

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  7. More protien and iron to make up for a cut that you can deal with yourself at home with a bandaid? THAT is a mindset I don't understand.

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