the first time i died

November 14, 2003 11:16 p.m.

The first time I died, it was a miracle.

During that life, I searched for ways to injure myself, to cause pain. I had tattoos everywhere, broken boys, cuts from knife fights. It wasn�t masochism, but its opposite. The flooding of endorphins, blinding, filling every breath.

It is true that we are dying since the day we were born.

Life is a continued state of denial that death will ever happen, that it is happening. And every time my brain released the endorphinal flood gates, I came closer to realizing that. It leaves a taste behind in your mouth like salt water, dehydrating you and making you crazy. It becomes a craving, like a lashing tongue on your pussy, taking you to the edge but not letting you cum, your body rejecting it.

When you die, this happens, but it culminates. It is the acceptance of it, it is quietly screaming �yes� with your entire being. It is life fucking you from everywhere, every opening and pore of your body. It is unimaginably erotic. The suicides, they remember this feeling, and birth themselves only to reach abortion, like addicts.

But it is also true that we are living since the day we die.

-Wislawa