I've always been a fan of blood. Gore cinema is one of the greatest things on earth if you ask me. Up until now, though, I had yet to experience anything myself that involved blood, and all the fun that blood creates [other than the little scrape here and there]. I made the decision to fix that about a month or so ago.
At A Glance Author gogosavvy Contact gogosavvy@bme.anon IAM gogo_savvy When A month ago
Out of pure curiosity, I ran upstairs to my shower, bringing a set of blades, needles and a camera along to start some fun. At first I was thinking that my boyfriend would think I was insane if he saw the cuts afterwards, but I figured he would understand, because he knows how much I enjoy blood and gore. Afterwards he did question the scabs, but was quick to tell me again how he thinks it's almost crazy to pay someone to cut something into your skin. His only experience is with tattoos, so he doesn't really feel so confident by way of blood loss.
I climbed in the shower and turned the water on to a very high temperature, letting the room steam up. As soon as I thought it was hot enough, I started the process of making small cuts into my chest. At first, I was a bit timid, only making very shallow cuts, but as soon as my endorphins started to kick in, I got a little more courage in me to go deeper. Just like the scars on my wrists, it only hurt for the initial few seconds of cutting, and then the feeling started to become almost soothing.
You never really know how much you bleed until you cut yourself and find out.
I had made around ten small cuts into the area above my breast, and was bleeding just enough to write words on the walls of the shower, and smear it around a little. I wrote a short letter on the wall to my boyfriend, proclaiming my love :). Then I started playing around. I wrote "REDRUM", and "KILL",etc. I was mostly pretending that I was creating the set for a horror film. Blood all over the walls. The splatter after someone gets decapitated. I found the splatter hardest to recreate. I just wasn't bleeding enough to make realistic splatter. To solve this, I cut a little more and a little deeper. And, with the aid of a few little needles I pierced myself a few times over to create more avenues for the blood flow. I never really succeeded in getting good splatter, but I guess all things will come in due time.
After screwing around for about an hour, I decided that I had smeared and written enough, but how could I not taste it before I bandaged myself up for the night? I felt that I had to, for one reason or another. Being vegan, the taste of blood is somewhat hard to come by. The only blood ok for me to taste is really my own, and I hadn't had a good, bloody experience for a couple years. Thus far, I had been living like a rock star. Staying out late, loving everyone without making love to everyone, going to concerts and clubs and lounges every other night. Reflecting on that, I felt that I was a bit out of touch with my own mortality. I still am at that stage in my life where I feel invincible. I can do anything, and nothing is going to stop me.
I think it is for that reason that I felt somewhat relieved in tasting my own blood. At first there was a bit of satisfaction. I thought to myself, "I'm bleeding, and I'm having fun, and this is wonderful." But knowing that I do bleed, and my blood is as red as everyone else's, is a kind of comfort. Yes, I smoke, and I drink and do all sorts of crazy things, but I never really think about dying anymore. After my little bloodplay session, I basically felt as if I had effectively reminded myself that I would die someday. The thing about that is, I still don't mind the thought of dying. It's forgetting that fact that scares me a bit. Forgetting that you're going to die, makes you forget [somewhat] that you need to live a life that will make you happy. If you're not happy, then what's the point in it?
With that, I cleaned up my bloody mess, and watched the pink-ish water stream down the walls. I climbed out, took a good look at myself in the mirror, and bandaged up my cuts. I went straight to bed after that, passing up the usual World of Warcraft session, and making friends with my pillow a little earlier than usual. It had been a long night.
In any case, a friend of mine from LA also started toying with the idea of blood play, as he is also a big fan of blood and scars and the general goriness of it all, and we both got some rather negative feedback in response to our cutting.
People would say,"Are you crazy?", and "Are you depressed or something?" Honestly, this was not much appreciated. We had both been stuck in this category society had created.
Neither of us are mentally unstable.
But who cares what everyone else thinks? I'm going to cut myself and play around in my blood if it's what makes me happy. And, dammit, I think it's fun.