The TLP Network

Sharing the Hate, Spreading the Pain: On Whispers and Screams

by on Feb.28, 2008, under Articles, Sharing the Hate

This week I’m bringing you an article so intense it will drain your essence and make you second guess your choice of waking up in the morning. Welcome to sharing the hate and spreading the pain.

It all continued with waking up to small impressions of rounded bamboo ingrained into my arm. An arm that I no longer feel with the exception of a numb tickling sensation. Perhaps numb is not the best word to use, because each movement of my fingers brings intense pain.

The kind of pain that you get mentally from finding out your wallet is gone because that one night stand ripped you off.

The kind of pain that continues because you cannot go to the doctor to receive an STD test, because your medical insurance card was in your wallet.

Perhaps, you will remember to take a photo copy of the insurance card when they reissue you one this time around. Isn’t that what you said exactly the last time this happened? Yes, that kind of pain.

It is always comforting to welcome someone into my lair before dismembering their morality from their psyche. In a way we were both warned. Once warned people are free to make their own mistakes, and once they make those mistakes they were just stupid for not listening to the warning. Common sense said this story would end poorly, however libido tends to yell louder than common sense whispers. Common sense that many stories will end poorly, for that’s an ending point.

If you take time to listen for the whispers over the screams, life tends to take on a different meaning. Instead of focusing on what is loud and in your face, look for who is pulling the strings. Look for what is going on behind the scenes. Take time to enjoy your favorite songs at a volume level where you can hear the subtle extra instruments and touches that make the song so powerful with its hooks. When you turn up music too loud it becomes distorted and just plain loud. You can neither enjoy it, understand it, nor can you listen to it. You can just hear it instead.

There is a reason that silence is deafening, because the sounds of your own internal monologue takes over. Your worst critic, harshest confidant, and the one that can point out each of your flaws is the only one speaking. As I lay there on the bamboo mat waiting for the ability to stand up without pain to kick in my internal monologue has center stage. Usually when in any environment, my internal monologue takes center stage, but now I cannot act on it or quiet it except with pain.

Warning signs, pings, and red flags are all internal reminders that you are about to engage in an activity that most likely you will later regret. However, when there is not deafening silence abound the voice is hard to hear over outside stimuli.

Not listening to the internal monologue could have potentially cost me a wallet containing fifteen dollars and two credit cards that would have been cancelled before sitting down to pen this piece. I realized that she would be trouble when she was not startled by one of my two black Katana firmly impregnated into the corner wall under a the dim hue of a black light. I would remove it from the wall, but not the wallet chains I wear hang from it when I come back from the bars.

Most normal people wouldn’t use a razor sharp full tang sword as a tie rack, but my ties are all metal and worn on my pants. I thought it would add a bit of flair to a completely empty room except for one desk, one chair, and small bamboo mat I regret I slept on without a cover. Plus in the back of my mind, common sense tells me that a wall mount makes for a better sheath for a faster draw especially when it already has chains attached to it.

sincelery,
Leo

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