This week I’ve been see­ing images when I wake up in the mid­dle of the night. Usually in the form of slow, flesh rip­ping decap­i­ta­tion, or bul­lets enter­ing non-vital parts of my body, like my arms. Not of self-muti­la­tion but muti­la­tion of the self. These images, in some form or anoth­er, have fol­lowed me my whole life, and went away after I start­ed ther­a­py1. Now they’re back.

There’s been a new one late­ly though.

I have a one-inch thick, two meter pole through the heart, stick­ing out per­pen­dic­u­lar­ly to my body in both direc­tions even­ly. My heart and lungs have grown and healed around this pole, and even a gen­tle impact on either end, due to the mechan­i­cal-force mul­ti­ply­ing nature of the ful­crum that is my heart, could dis­rupt my organs and kill me.

So as I’m try­ing to fall asleep again, I see myself going about any reg­u­lar day, stum­bling around with this unwieldy pole, hop­ing I don’t trip, and no one bumps into it.

  1. Or per­haps, co-inci­den­tal­ly from something/someone else. []


  1. Wow. That’s an image that will stay with me as much as the Butterfly and the Diving Bell scene where they sew the guy’s eye up and you see it from inside.…



    • I read about that movie after you men­tioned it, and the con­cept alone sounds fright­ful. Now I have anoth­er movie to watch.

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