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my thoughts

I can't believe that what I feel is really happening to me
Make it hurt
And point the finger at my insecurities
Well I guess I just don't understand about those complexities in your mind
And I guess I just don't understand why this world seems so unkind
Maybe just once I get what's coming to me.

**"Maybe Just Once" - Nine Inch Nails**

Monday, November 15, 2004

Red and Pink. I can feel the lines across my skin. They feel tight and hot and wonderful. The pain flows from inside me outward to dissipate. I can focus on the present and not what is going on internally. I put my mind to my flesh and I do nothing but let the sensations wash over me. Red lines appear. Sometimes they break the skin, sometimes they stay on the surface.

Red is the colour of love, of lust, of anger, of rage. All these emotions release themselves from my heart along with the pain. The pain frees me. It frees me from the confines of myself. My skin feels hot to the touch. It is because my blood is rushing to the area to heal it, to give it oxygen and life. I touch the palm of my hand to my newly reddened skin and wince at the sting. I don't know how to explain it, but I need the pain. I need to do this whenever I hurt too much to deal with anything else. It is my release.

Perhaps that is why red is my favourite colour. Red reminds me of the pain and the blood and the love. Pink is the safer version. Is it somehow less intense than red. Red is the colour of skin that has taken too much (just enough?) and pink is the colour skin turns after the red fades. The red brings a sting that is unbearable and that I crave. The pink is the reminder of what happened there. Are pink people just people who are too timid to be red people? Do red people hate pink people because pink is the reminder of a fading red?

Me, I crave the redness of my skin, and I also rejoice in the raw pink flesh that remains after. Red may be my favourite colour, but pink is something to be enjoyed as well. Once, I told everyone that I hated the colour pink. After contemplating the meaning of the colour, I don't know if I could ever hate it again. I am still not a fan of pastels, but pink will forever remind me of hurt flesh healing in preparation for another injury. When will I need to cause it? At the moment, I am covered in the creamy-olive tones of my skin. I crave red, I crave pink, I crave anything but my natural colour. Give me pain that lets me release and become whole again. Give me pain so I can focus. Give me blood so I can live. Let me be both a red person; intensely feeling everything around her, so bad it hurts, and a pink person; feeling the sting of yesterday, though not as painful, but a reminder of what could happen again. I need that red to let me open up and release. I need that pink to let me remember what pain the red brings and how I need to avoid situations that bring pain.

In life, you can't avoid painful situations forever and, when the red arrives, you just have to grit your teeth and take it. You'll always have the pink to fall back on so that you can feel the warm sting from the red pain of yesterday. Hold the red close to your heart. It hurts and you'll think you don't have the capacity to grab onto it for much longer. You have to hold on, and when you're full to bursting and can't take it anymore, release the red and the pain you've been feeling and all the love and all the lust and all the anger will rush out with it. Love will return to you, making your red into the glow of pink. Cradle the pink for the few days it will last. Those pink marks will remind you of your pain and how it is gone. Treasure the red and cradle the pink. You need them both in your life. Red people, embrace the timid pink people and let them darken. Pink people, respect the red people and let them brighten.

Are you a pink person, a red person, or both?
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