Maniacal laughter of the temporarily insane in The Automatic Redirection of Negative and Often Repetitive Behaviors and The Instruction on How to Focus on a More Positive Way of Life

I can’t stop laughing as the knife presses against the back of my calf, sliding slowly around the curve of my muscle. My hands grip her arm, my nails biting into the tender flesh of her forearm, leaving crescent moon shaped indentations as she holds on to me while the knife does its work. My vision blurs and all I feel is the cold piercing metal against my soft yielding flesh. Red welts spring up in the wake of the knife, yet no blood appears. Strange, I think to myself, that it could feel as if it were biting through the surface layers of my skin and into the meaty part of my flesh, yet it wasn’t.
Control.
Who really has control? I don’t want it. I’d freely give it to just about anyone in order to not have to make decisions for myself any longer. Yet, at the same time I know that’s not exactly right. Confusion about what is “right” vs “wrong” doesn’t seem to be an issue. My mind knows what it wants.
The knife knows what I want.
Objects don’t “know” anything. It’s the people wielding the instrument that really matter. How do you trust someone you’ve only just met? I thought I was supposed to set limits and keep them but I am tossing them aside without a care in the world. Press my limits you say? Well press them as hard as you want. How do you expose yourself so intimately to a semi-stranger. If it is wrong, I wouldn’t know because it didn’t feel wrong to me.
I want to fight against you. Aggressively protecting my body. I want to struggle so hard my body is no longer capable of struggling any longer. I want to be forced into submission, even when my mind tells me this is what it wants, my body still hesitates. Or maybe, I am thinking too contradictory.
Voices asking if I am ok. Old habits of assuming people should know how I feel without saying exactly how I feel, surface. I think to myself, don’t stop, what are you doing!? But, I have to remember to communicate, even if my tongue doesn’t want to say the words, my mind at least knows I should.
Pain equals laughter. Sure maybe I’ll look into that later. Maybe I just enjoy it so much that I cant help but bubble up with laughter. Maybe…
Why?
Because my head hurts again and it might be time to sleep.