|Current mood:|| blank|
|Current music:||Clipse .x. When's the last time|
Love it when it hurts so good.
There's definitely something about self-inflicted pain, it's intoxicating. I have a hard time walking downtown, passing tattoo parlor after tattoo parlor with the flashy piercing signs setting off the fireworks in my brain and all of the alarms and warning alerts for my body.
What else, where else...what now? There's always some place, there's always another type of pain to tolerate.
Lately, I've loved to fuck with my own head and play with the softer spots. Anything to make it sting that much more, make it feel all the more real. Sounds almost sick doesn't it? It's not or maybe it is but it's art. It's art and I like nothing more than putting my trust into an artist, making my body their canvas and giving my money as their reward. I love the quick and sharp sting from a gun or needle. I'm addicted to it, wildly even and I don't know if it's a habit I'll ever be able to kick.
And I'm not really sure I want to either.
We played with surface piercings today, walked out with three. Each was more intense and made my eyes close tighter. It was hot.
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