On pain and other small things

8 08 2009

When anyone was asking me why I liked pain, I was used to have very simple answer: pain and pleasure shares the same place in our brain, so in mine some walls might be broken down.
Now I have a different idea about it and it’s rather simple too: pain is beauty. Not in the sense of everyday beauty, in a more deep sense.
Pain leads me to a sort of zen state, to a nothingness filled of everything, to an ecstasy of some sort… a very good one.
It might be erotic, it might be far from it sometimes… but still that place where I somehow disappear and something else take place, something free and vibrant and alive and willing for more.
I still have to understand why or what and maybe that’s because I stopped to worry too much about it and i started to speak of it, trying to understand it.
I can’t say it doesn’t scare me, sometimes. I guess fear is still some kind of residual piece of my over-christian education… maybe a vestigial form of guilt for taking a path of pleasure instead of a path of wisdom.
But is pleasure so far from widsom? Or aren’t they deeply entangled together?

As always what I see it’s a forest of meanings.
Easy to get lost. Easy to find the wolf… but… well… worth the risk.

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