Lurking from within I exacerbate the qualms that maintain me alive. It has been over 2 months since ‘the devil’ has taken over the wheel. Full granted access over
my our body has resulted in levels of intensity never experienced before. Perhaps the need to get out of the box or simply learn to fight for personal needs and desires rather than constantly attempting to meet socially constructed ideals has led to this impasse.
The sweat, the smell, the body temperature constantly rising;
The heavy breathing, the touch, the desire;
The lust, the pleasure and the need to have you now…
Words were left unsaid and moments left to be shared. Nevertheless, despite the incomplete experience, he has still made quite an impact; he has empowered ‘the devil’. Instead of fully embracing the newly gathered knowledge, I naively assumed that I had learnt how to balance both sides and turn them into one. What was I thinking? Did I really think I had perfected it?
In an attempt to recreate a similar outcome to the experience highlighted above, I managed to come out feeling smothered and confused. So naïve, I did not realise ‘the devil’ was asleep and now I remain pleading for it to rise again and take over. I need it as turns out, I am not so strong after all.
‘Marry me, stay the same
Lie to me and try to say you never will.
Being faced with what I’m faced with I feel like I can’t rock
Like a rock hit my heart
Started to chain the day and exploded into pieces. ’
The Used – Pieces Mended
“Well, sometimes life isn’t black and white, there are many other shades of grey.” He said, and I smiled at my screen after a long conversation with the unknown. Since the devil has taken over, I feel as though as life is becoming more thrilling. A daredevil, unafraid of consequences, I am slowly acknowledging that coexistence is the answer. My failed attempts to kick the devil out have only resulted in further defiance. A constant battle; is it really necessary? The exasperation soon turned into tiredness, I have been defeated.
Morality often plays a big role in restraining human experiences. The fear of being judged automatically activates a repressing defence mechanism* to such an extend where evaluating the pros and cons frequently result in following that socially constructed path pre-built for our own existence. As a young woman, I find it difficult to maintain the necessary equilibrium between my wishes and what is socially accepted. By contrast, the devil does not care about appearances. It is constantly gambling for the ultimate experience, to enjoy each and every moment as it was the last.
New experiences, new ventures that could have plenty of repercussions and yet no regret…
But there is more to come, there is an undeniable attraction developing at a fast and scary pace. Something of a new extreme, something “wrong”… This one must be handled by the devil; I need not to get involved.
*If you are curious about repression, suppression and other defence mechanisms, read Sigmund Freud’s theory. It can be quite enlightening regardless of some psychologists not fully acknowledging his theoretical paradigms, it offers plenty of insight.
Transgressing beyond the limit where boundaries cannot remain acquiescent to my bare eyes, I steadily attempt to relieve the strain. Yet, as anticipated, all efforts are wasted. The devil has been unleashed and there seems to be no way to take over again. Each and every step taken towards the light results in doubled the steps backwards and simultaneously, downwards. The body has ceased to respond to its own mind… and the mind has ceased to respond to its own soul. The discrepancy is undeniably evident. Exhaustion… Suffocation… Stagnation… The other side is taking over, polluting every fibre of my being, extenuating consequences with a smile, perplexed I peak from within. Peeping tom… in my own body. Living with the other side had been an easy task to manage my entire life, when necessary, I’d let it take control over me, use and abuse the resources as a reflex, an instinct, a coping mechanism. But soon the other side crawled in and took over at the most unexpected times.
“Sanity is slowly slipping from my hands now, I’m standing closer to the edge than I should be allowed.”
(Alesana – Hymn for the Shameless)
The self has been transposed. The devil now has taken over and fully owns it. I continuously peek from within, enjoying the ride for now. Will I ever take over again? Am I truly the devil who simply confused itself with the daily masquerade? Could it possibly be a consequence of being tainted by your touch? I fear it may transcend this. I fear I may have been polluted from day one.
Sugar-coating experiences is one of my main abilities. I am capable of easily making the worst of my personal choices and mistakes something “not that bad”. Sometimes for my own sake, other times out of fear… Yes, fear.
In a lonesome manner, I exasperate myself for a reminder to remove that heavy mask. The one that everyone sees and praises. But what about me? Me… Do I even know what that means any more? Corrupted to a large extend, I remain afraid, seeking some enlightenment, some sort of reaction. But all fails, all fails as a result of being tainted by your touch.
The energy scarcity from within slowly poisons the real me. Incapable of love. I see life passing by, as an avatar, from the outside I peek and see the mask taking over little by little, day by day. Mesmerised by the inability to react I remain incapable of loving. The unexpected impact of your presence polluted me in such a manner that it seems there is no light at the end of the tunnel. What a dismay…
Conspicuous lack of qualms define the mask. Through continuous torturous events, it seems as though as that one lethargic reaction persistently remains active. Incapable of trust. I continue seeking for enlightenment whilst slowly giving up on fighting against the mask. Perhaps it is a never-ending battle, perhaps I should give in. It does seem to have my best interests in mind. But how can one touch be this powerful? This mind blowing?
I wonder if one day I will wake up and realise it was all a bad dream, a product of my fertile imagination. I wonder if one day I will realise that the mask is the ‘right’ one and me? Well maybe I am the parasite, the outsider, the voyeur. Either way, sooner or later, a reaction will emerge.