posted on Tuesday, May. 30, 2006 @ 0103
"place to be," nick drake
if i've spoken with you about the scars on my arm, you may recall me mentioning how the skin "feathers" open. it's really fascinating, but i don't know why it happens. maybe it has to do with severing all the layers of skin? obviously superficial scratches are straight lines. but to those of you interested or just unlucky enough to make it this far, i found these pictures online to illustrate what i meant.
there's a small glimpse into six years of my life (ages 13 through 19). do you want a truly momumental moment in the history of chelsea? read this. march 5, 2003. the very last day i ever cut myself.
i have to wonder why i'm obsessed with gore. looking at those pictures of the cut-up arms, it makes me nauseous. almost immediately my eyes fill with tears because that's exactly what my arms looked like.
here we go. now that i finally have an awesome camera, i can photograph the most damage.
exhibit number 1: the only time i had full intentions of killing myself. this was made on december 17, 1999, and was worse than anticipated because i used my left hand (this is on my right arm); i wasn't so skilled with my left hand in the exact amount of pressure to apply for the degree of injury i wanted. the length and width of the line represent the original size of the cut, and it was about 1/4 inch deep. it was horrifying; i could see the blood pulsing out. this is when shannoff came and rescued me, and kate and i watched sleepy hollow and crimped our hair. this one really deserved stitches; it was open for about a month, but i never let my parents see it. it was the one i was ashamed of. talk about pain, having to pull an ace bandage off of an open wound (ace bandages are many cutters' friends).
exhibit 2: made in october 2002. if you must know, read this. it's more complicated than described there, however, but basically what i put: it wasn't about losing jonathan; it was just not being good enough for anyone. i had actually called him to break up, but he beat me to the punch and i didn't expect it. the shape of the scar is pretty cool, though.
exhibit 3: the very last. thank god.
i've got several smaller scars that the flash drowned out. i love my scars. i wouldn't change a thing about what i have endured in my life. to quote marilyn manson, "the body is a road map."
back to the topic of loving gore, i love scars, too. they're fascinating and beautiful. i love hearing the stories. layla's got a scar on her knee in the shape of a seven, and that's how old she was when she got it. my mom has a scar on her hand from our old cat, meat (n�e tyson, but he was really fat).
the japanese, in their infinite awesomeness, have come up with a division of animation known as "guro". that links to the wikipedia entry, which is very insightful. you can also check out gurochan, which is an image board. i don't recommend the scat board, but to each his own, right?
let's see if i can't find you some good pictures. i've got hundreds of them. seriously. let's start with gore/death.
i really love this picture; i am absolutely entranced by blood (and who doesn't love boobs?). blood is an incredibly beautiful thing, a deep, rich red liquid that is responsible for sustaining all animal life. it's remarkable not only asthetically but biologically. would you bring on the straight jacket if i said it tastes good, too? of course you detect the metal because of all the iron, but it's not bad. i guess it's an acquired taste.
would you have sex with a dead person? i think the maggots are pretty gross. maybe if they were freshly dead. am i joking or serious? that's a fun aspect of being me�you don't know! ;)
i think this one is drawn nicely.
another image board at gurochan is freakshow, where you have just that, weird fucking shit. this includes tentacle porn, sex with random fictional creatures, s&m stuff (as long as there's no blood), bug girls, amputees, etc.
people seem to be big on cyborgs and robots.
this is bikko. everyone loves bikko (and her kitties!). her obvious deformities include a missing eye covered by scar tissue, and a missing calf with scar tissue over the joint. sometimes she's more presentable:
she gets an eyepatch and prosthetic leg, or just bandages over the two.
so are you sufficiently horrified now? it shouldn't come as a surprise if you know me all that well. i wish i knew what all of this stemmed from, though. i'm an inherently violent person; i can remember screaming at my grandparents when i was very young, and i used to punch walls until my knuckles bled in middle school (which gave way to cutting since mom complained about how noisy it was). i watched the exorcist when i was 10 or 11, but even before that i remember watching dr. giggles. the part where he pumped some chick's stomach and then started pumping out blood and flesh really got to me. i actually walked into the kitchen at that point. now i've matured into someone who watches the saw movies and thinks to herself, that's it?
silent hill really won in my book. even though it took away from the psychological aspect of the games by combining them, pyramid head's presence was enough for me.
yeah, there's a rainbow there, but it's the best picture i found in 5 seconds or less. to quote one person, "pyramid head is the physical manifestation of james sunderland's true personality. he's the punisher; he kills the people whose transgressions have passed beyond atonement and expresses sunderland's sexual frustrations by raping or assaulting the more feminine incarnations of james's psyche." when he walks around he drags his blade behind him, so you can hear him approaching. his best part in the movie was when�totally unexpectedly�he grabs this chick, rips off her dress, rips off her skin, then hurls her bloody bits against the church doors. then at the end everyone is killed with barbed wire (more thrilling to see considering where the barbed wire was coming from). this one chick was held up in the air by it, spread eagle. she prayed to retain her purity, and i knew what was next. i was excited it was coming, and when i big strand of barbed wire thrusted its way through her uterus and out the top of her, i smiled in the darkness of the theatre, knowing owen was doing the same. yes. yes yes yes.
does this kind of talk validate my claims of mutilating and killing people?
anyway, i've been up prattling on for far too long. i guess the mania hasn't completely died away after all. damn you, depression! return whence you came. i'd rather be sleepless and energetic.