Luxuriate in your shame and embarrassment; gorge on it like a mother eating her own placenta. I wanted this to happen
January 7, 2017 § Leave a comment
Luxuriate in your shame, and embarrassment; gorge on it like a mother eating her own placenta. I wanted this to happen; I provoked this humiliation with my wildness, my love of drama and storm. Do more, and more! Delight in my provocations. Now may be the perfect time to travel again—how I yearn for the Intercity now. Insouciance is my middle name. Disappear when they think you surrounded; reappear in their midst splashing them with your waves when they have forgotten all about you. The Cocteau way. Provoke, provoke, throw more bombs, throw more stones in the pond. I need to be on Eurostar at St Pancras, I am breathless for it. Pulling in to Brussels Gare du Midi and straight on to train to Nuremberg and Munich. After a day or so, on to Berlin. Live wilder. Already I feel more alive. This is what humiliation does for me. I feel the electricity prickling on my skin. I am feeding off my humiliation, I want more and more of it. Throw more at me, and I will gorge on it, laughing as I destroy all that is most holy.